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 The sun shone in Mrs. Marston's face.
 
 \ 
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 The Closed Balcony I 
 
 
 
 BY 
 
 ANNE GARDNER HALE 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 h 
 
 m 
 
 JOHN GOSS 
 
 and 
 
 ', 
 LILLIAN HALE 
 
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 iMF **"' "?& !< 
 
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 THE C. M. CL^JLK PUBLISHING CO. 
 ;g BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS 
 
 1907 
 
 i
 
 Copyright, 1907 
 
 By 
 
 THE C. M. CLARK PUBLISHING CO., 
 
 Boston, Massachusetts, 
 
 U. S. A. 
 
 All Rights Reserved.
 
 ?$ 
 
 "We live in deeds, not years ; in thoughts not breaths, 
 
 In feelings, not in figures on a dial. 
 
 We should count time by heart throbs : 
 
 He most lives, who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.' 
 
 Philip James Bailey.
 
 "True life is the realization of the higher virtues justice, 
 love, truth, liberty, moral power in our daily activitives, what 
 ever they may be." 
 
 Charles Wagner.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Page 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 AtHillsford 1 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 A Morning of Excitement .... 19 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 Mistakes and Mishaps . . . . . 81 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 Pleasant Hill 48 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 First Impressions 69 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 The Mordaunts 87 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 Finding Out for Himself 105 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 Mrs. Sinclair's Story 124 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 In Denver 130 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 Edith's Surprise 149 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 Polly Tells a Story 162
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 Coming Home . . . . . .177 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 A Happy Evening 193 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 Additions to the Marston Family . . .' 213 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 Going to a Party 221 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 Sitting for a Portrait 238 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 The Balcony to be Opened .... 249 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 A Chain of Circumstances .... 266 
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 The Thieves Receive their Punishment . . 277 
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 Harold Discovers His Vocation . . . 281 
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 Willie's Confession 297 
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 Dr. Hamilton Pays All Demands . . . 308 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 A Blunder and its Correction . . . .317 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 Courage and Perseverance . . . .328
 
 ILLUSTKATIONS 
 
 The sun shone in Mrs. Marston's face Frontispiece 
 
 Page 
 
 a We didn't mean to make so much noise, Oldie 
 
 dear," said Polly 10 
 
 Mr. Marston had Maud in his arms, fast asleep 64 
 
 A small figure tottered out from the dimness to 
 
 meet them . . . . . .115 
 
 " Coming home! Coming home I" shouted Tom 149 
 " So this is the wheel of flame," said Mr. Goodwin 202 
 The four Marston children rushed along the road 227 
 
 A vehicle rushing past .... strikes against the 
 
 wheels of the buggy . . . . * 269 
 
 He silently grasped his partner's hand . . 285 
 
 Miss Maria saw him approaching and frightened 
 by his woe-begone appearance, came down 
 the stairs ....... 324
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AT HILLSFOED. 
 
 ON a bright morning in early May, Mrs. Philip 
 Marston, a lady of pleasant face and gentle mien, 
 stood at the entrance of her home, a fine old- 
 fashioned house, in one of the city's quiet 
 streets. She was gazing anxiously at a homely 
 vehicle coming slowly up the carriage-way. It 
 was the quaint, but comfortable family buggy, 
 driven by a stout, middle-aged man, her hus 
 band. At his side sat a tall pale young man, 
 
 apparently about eighteen years of age 
 
 Harold, their eldest son. The young man was 
 evidently ill, for he was closely wrapped and 
 muffled. 
 
 The buggy drew near the door. The sun shone 
 in Mrs. Marston's face. She put up a hand to 
 shade her eyes. The eyes looked weak and tired, 
 as if from lack of sleep; and her face was thin 
 
 i
 
 2 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 and care-worn. " Well, what is your decision? " 
 she asked, in a low, eager voice, a smile breaking 
 over her features as she returned her husband's 
 eager glance. 
 
 " I like it," he said quietly. " I want you to 
 decide. Get your wraps, for it is cold, riding. I 
 haven't much more time to spare this morning 
 and wish to know what you think of it as soon 
 as possible." 
 
 Harold attempted to speak. A cough pre 
 vented, a hard, convulsive cough. When it 
 
 was over he leaned back in the buggy, as if ex 
 hausted. With a slight movement of his hands 
 he signified his wish to alight. His father put 
 his arm tenderly about him and assisted him un 
 til he stood by his mother. He remained there 
 an instant, gazing sadly at the flowering shrubs 
 near the door. 
 
 " Come, my son," said his mother, " it is 
 hardly safe for you in this cool breeze." Draw 
 ing his arm within hers, they walked slowly 
 through the hall. 
 
 " My poor, poor boy," said Mr. Marston to 
 himself, watching them till they had passed 
 from sight, then pacing the driveway uneasily 
 for a few minutes. Hearing footsteps descend 
 ing the hall-stairs he knew his wife was ap 
 proaching, and ceased his walking. She was 
 drawing on her gloves as she came, and said
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 3 
 
 mournfully, " The dear fellow is so pleased with 
 the place ! But he seems very feeble to-day." 
 
 " Encourage him all you can," returned her 
 husband. " A great deal depends upon keeping 
 up his spirits, Dr. Houghton says, and if we 
 make the change it must be immediately." 
 With a sigh, he helped her into the buggy and 
 drove off rapidly. 
 
 Mr. Philip Marston was partner in a com 
 mercial house engaged in the East India trade. 
 Though not wealthy, he had acquired property 
 enough to bring up his eight children with every 
 comfort, and also to spare something to others 
 less favored than himself. He had inherited 
 from his father a plain, old-fashioned house 
 nearly a mile from the centre of Hillsford, a 
 small manufacturing city. 
 
 When he first took his wife there he had many 
 misgivings, for in her parental home she was 
 surrounded with all that could make life enjoy 
 able. The house was comfortable, and in good 
 order, though in an uninteresting neighborhood, 
 among people engaged in the factories and 
 workshops. But from its upper story a fine view 
 of the ocean was afforded, and this, with the sun 
 set stretching its glories along the western cor 
 ridor compensated, she declared frequently, for 
 all denial of the costly furnishings of her father's 
 mansion. And none could have been blessed
 
 4 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 with greater happiness than they during the 
 twenty years in which they had lived there. 
 
 Now a removal seemed impending. How 
 could they leave it so dear it had become? 
 The rooms where the children were born; the 
 nursery, where the babies had frolicked and 
 taken their first steps; the little chamber where 
 Harold had first lisped his prayers; the closet 
 of her daily devotions; and grandmother Mar- 
 ston's room, which seemed the very chamber of 
 peace, where in her serene old age she waited 
 her summons to a heavenly home how could she 
 give them up? 
 
 But for Harold, her first-born, the pride and 
 joy of her heart, no less than of his father's, 
 what should she not do, what would they not 
 give for his restoration to health? Their own 
 individual advantage, comfort, ease, should not 
 be a feather's weight in the balance against that. 
 And the boy should not feel for a moment that it 
 would be a sacrifice for her to give up this dear 
 old home, and the friends, so kind, in the neigh 
 borhood. When Dr. Houghton told of Pleasant 
 Hill, a pretty farm in Pippoton, an adjoining 
 village, where Harold could have clear, dry air 
 to breathe and healthful surroundings, and 
 stated that it was the only chance for the boy's 
 life, she resolutely crushed down her regrets 
 and went immediately about preparations for
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 5 
 
 moving there. But she was so quiet in all her 
 movements, Harold and his father did not even 
 know that she was ready to acquiesce in their 
 decision whatever it might be. 
 
 When setting off with his son this morning for 
 the daily drive, Mr. Marston had said, " I'll take 
 Harold up there and see how he likes it, then 
 you must go and give us your opinion." Rapid 
 growth together with close application to books 
 (to say nothing of severe athletics with his class 
 mates) had made great inroads on Harold's 
 strength the past two years. His parents were 
 not aware of his perilous condition till exposure 
 to a storm in early April developed a cough. 
 At the same time he complained of feverishness 
 and lassitude. Then they became alarmed, and 
 called in a physician, who prescribed a careful 
 course of outdoor exercises, complete cessation 
 of base-ball as well as of study; if he did not 
 improve soon, a change of climate. 
 
 When Mr. Marston convinced the doctor that 
 a change of climate was out of the question, for 
 neither he nor his mother could accompany their 
 son, nor would they consent to his going from 
 home alone, he ordered a few simple medicines, 
 and hunted up this healthful spot, to which the 
 father must immediately move the whole family. 
 
 None but those who have passed through the 
 moving of a large household to a new home when
 
 6 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 illness in the family absorbs thought, weighs 
 upon the spirits, and requires careful attention, 
 can have an idea of the dismay and distress 
 which Dr. Houghton's words gave Mrs. Mar- 
 ston. But she kept resolutely about her duties, 
 and cheered Harold, no less than herself, in find 
 ing all sorts of occasions for a merry speech or 
 a gay little laugh. 
 
 Lottie, the faithful Swedish girl, who had been 
 in her employ several years as kitchen help, was 
 ready to co-operate in all her plans. She worked 
 indefatigably, cooking, cleaning, scrubbing, 
 packing, with alacrity and with amazing quiet 
 ness. 
 
 Grandmother Marston and the children, even 
 Edith, the eldest daughter, were to be kept ig 
 norant, if possible, of the change of home till the 
 day before. Because of the excitement which 
 would inevitably follow upon their knowledge 
 of it, and of the bad effect excitement would 
 have upon Harold. Lottie was always ready to 
 undertake anything that would be of benefit 
 to Harold, however arduous or unpleasant, and 
 she did her best to keep the house quiet and 
 calm. Susan, the nurse-girl, did the same, 
 though in a less agreeable manner. 
 
 The seven other children, well aware of the 
 illness of Harold, were usually as careful as they 
 knew how to be of his comfort. Yet, what could
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 7 
 
 be expected of them? Edith full of the life of 
 gay sixteen ; Tom, a year younger, quick in per 
 ception and hasty in action ; Roland, twelve, and 
 Robert, ten, as impulsive and as impatient of 
 restraint, as young colts; Pollywog (so called 
 by her brothers because of her clumsiness), an 
 inveterate blunderer of seven years, but the 
 kindest little soul in the world ; Tad Thaddeus, 
 according to the family record, being Polly's al 
 most inseparable companion, dubbed accord 
 ingly, a mischief maker of six ; and Maud, the 
 baby, not yet three, the pet of the household. 
 
 All but the baby were in school five hours of 
 the day. Three of the boys spent most of the 
 time when not in school, out of doors, with 
 schoolmates. A carpenter's shop in the neigh 
 borhood absorbed much of their leisure ; Robert 
 was especially interested in that. Yet one or 
 more of them was somewhere in the house at all 
 times. And in spite of their mother's frequent 
 plea for Harold's aching head, there was more 
 or less merry chatter, and occasionally, some 
 wrangling among them ; and when Pollywog and 
 Tad came from school Susan was apt to get into 
 a " fluster " trying to control their irrepressible 
 spirits. 
 
 To-day, Pollywog was the first to appear, 
 her new spring suit burst at the belt, the ribbon 
 gone from her hair, her whole appearance de-
 
 8 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 noting more than ordinary commotion. In her 
 wake followed Tad, his boots muddy, his stock 
 ings loose, an unwholesome-looking puppy in his 
 arms. They were on their way to the nursery 
 and, it must be confessed, striving to step lightly 
 Pollywog's finger on her lips to impress si 
 lence on Tad. 
 
 But Tad's boots would creak. Susan heard 
 the creak. " That boy'll wake the baby," she 
 growled to herself, " An' then there'll be a rum 
 pus." 
 
 She rushed into the upper hall, upsetting her 
 works tand as she went. All the spools trailed 
 after her, rolling out their thread, like so many 
 demoralized spiders, till they went bouncing and 
 bounding down the hall-stairs. Glancing back 
 ward, with a scowl and a groan she tried to save 
 a few from their precipitous course. Tad's bob 
 bing head coming up and the burden he carried 
 claimed her attention. 
 
 " Taddie Marston ! " she exclaimed, forgetful 
 of Lottie's charge to keep the children still, 
 " What have you brought Will Leonard's dog 
 here for? " 
 
 " Tain't Will's. It's mine. Bought with my 
 whistle'n' popgun," said Tad. 
 
 " You can't bring it upstairs." 
 
 "It's upstairs now," drawled Pollywog.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 9 
 
 Maud's voice was heard calling " Tad ! my 
 Taddie ! " 
 
 " There ! you dreadful children ! Now you've 
 waked the baby, and she hasn't had half a nap," 
 was Susan's response. 
 
 To add to the confusion the dog yelped pit- 
 eously. 
 
 " Take the ugly thing away ! " cried Susan. 
 
 " He isn't ugly. He's poor. I guess that's the 
 reason you don't like him," said Tad 
 
 But Susan didn't hear what he said, for Maud 
 was screaming for " Taddie, my Taddie ! " and 
 for Susan to take her up, and she had hurried 
 back to the nursery. 
 
 Lottie, busy in the parlor, left her scrubbing 
 brush on the floor, wiped her hands on her apron 
 and came softly to the head of the stairs, where 
 the two children stood irresolute longing, yet 
 scarcely daring to brave Susan's anger by going 
 to the nursery. 
 
 "Why, Polly Mar'sen!" she whispered. 
 " Don't you know what you' papa say erbout 
 bein' a good, quiet girl now Harol' ees seeck? I 
 fought you won't do so." 
 
 " I didn't make a noise," said Polly. 
 
 " Eet was t'poppy, t'en. Now, Taddy boy, you 
 giv'me t'e car' of t'e pore creetur'. Some nice 
 col' meat in t'e pahntry for him, now." 
 
 " You're awful kind, Lottie," said Tad. " I'll
 
 io THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 go with you. He's half-starved that's why I 
 bought him." Of course Polly went too. 
 
 Harold was in his reclining chair at the gar 
 den end of the hall, his half-closed eyes lan 
 guidly taking in the beauty of the blossoming 
 peach-trees near the window there. 
 
 Lottie, followed by the children on tiptoe, 
 went through the parlor. They were obliged to 
 pass by Harold on their way to the pantry. 
 
 " We didn't mean to make so much noise, 
 Oldie dear," said Polly, putting her arms around 
 Harold's neck and kissing his forehead. " Is 
 your head worse? " 
 
 " I guess not," he said with a little low laugh. 
 
 " I'm awful sorry you're sick," said Tad. He 
 thought kissing babyish, so he only patted 
 Harold's cheek, and held the dog towards him. 
 
 "He's not pretty, is he, Tad?" said Harold, 
 as he stroked the puppy's shaggy ears. 
 
 " I know it," returned Tad. " But he's a dun 
 animal, and I wanted to be kind to him. Papa 
 says we must be kind to dun animals. Will 
 Leonard was teasing him awfully made him 
 cry. And he hasn't given him half enough to 
 eat, see how thin he is." 
 
 He held the dog for Harold's inspection. " He 
 is a dun animal, surely," said Harold ; " he's 
 neither brown nor black." 
 
 " I knew he was a dun animal the very minute
 
 "We didn't mean to make so much noise, Oldie dear," 
 said Polly.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 11 
 
 I saw him," said Polly, " because I've learned 
 about that color in my definitions. " N' I told 
 Taddie we ought to be kind to him if Will 
 wouldn't." 
 
 " An' I an' I I " stammered Tad, in haste 
 to set himself right in Harold's eyes, " I wasn't 
 going to be mean, so I didn't say anything about 
 being kind, only asked Will what he'd take for 
 him. He said he wanted my pop-squirt, and I 
 gave it to him, and my bird whistle, too." 
 
 Tad stretched himself to his greatest height 
 when he had finished, as if conscious of great 
 magnanimity in bargaining. 
 
 Lottie had come softly from the pantry and 
 stood, beckoning, in the dining-room door. 
 
 " Come Tad," said Polly, " let's go and feed 
 him Lottie's waiting." 
 
 Harold detained her a moment, laying his thin, 
 pale hand on her wavy brown locks. "Polly- 
 wog, my dear" he said, "what has happened? 
 I used to have a little sister, and her name was 
 Pauline " 
 
 " Pauline Maria Marston, Oldie. I wish you 
 wouldn't call me Pollywog, ever. I don't care if 
 all the rest do every one," she said hurriedly, 
 tears coming into her eyes. 
 
 Harold's hands were stroking and trying to 
 smoothe her disordered hair as he went on,
 
 12 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " Pauline Maria Marston was a tidy little girl, 
 she kept her pretty hair neatly, and " 
 
 "O Oldie, dear! Is it pretty?" she broke in 
 again. " I never knew before that it is pretty. 
 Nobody ever told me so. Susan says it is ugly 
 and dreadfully bothersome." 
 
 She felt of her belt. " I knew that button 
 would come off the first thing told Susan so; 
 and she said it would stand the racket one more 
 day." 
 
 " The racket? " asked Harold. 
 
 "Yes, that's what she calls things when I 
 play. We had a splendid game of walls of 
 Quebec, and that button just flew off, all itself, 
 when Lizzie Murray and May Nelson took me 
 into the ring." 
 
 Lottie having given Tad food for the puppy 
 and seen them in quiet content sitting on the 
 garden steps, returned to her work. At Harold's 
 suggestion she took Polly to the nursery and re 
 paired damages; Susan, looking on sulkily the 
 while. She left her amusing Maud with a long 
 story about the poor dun animal to which they 
 must all be kind; and, finally, good, faithful 
 Lottie, took up her scrubbing brush again. 
 
 The carpet had been removed from the parlor 
 floor and the furniture, its linen coverings ad 
 justed and securely fastened, was in the library 
 when Edith came from school. " What does this
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 13 
 
 mean?" she said, running in to Lottie. "I 
 thought you finished spring cleaning last 
 month." 
 
 " I fought so too," said Lottie. " Seechness 
 makes it to do now," and again her brush was 
 cast aside, for the door bell rang and she must 
 answer its summons. 
 
 Mrs. Nelson, a neighbor, had called with 
 flowers and a glass of jelly for Harold. She 
 saw Edith in the library, and passed by Lottie 
 impetuously " Do tell me, Edith ! " she ex 
 claimed, " if the report is true? Is your father 
 really going to take you all up to that dismal 
 Pleasant Hill?" 
 
 " I don't understand you," said Edith. " Pve 
 heard no such report." 
 
 " This looks like it all this disarray of furni 
 ture and things," I said to Mr. Nelson this morn 
 ing, I didn't believe, I wouldn't believe such a 
 ridiculous story. But I wanted to ' make as 
 surance doubly sure,' as Shakespeare says, 
 you read him, my dear, I suppose? " 
 
 Edith smiled and shook her head. 
 
 " Oh ! you ought at school, at least. I knew 
 most of his plays the best ones before I was 
 your age." 
 
 " I haven't time with my other studies. Papa 
 says a person should be twenty years old and
 
 14 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 well-informed on other matters before taking up 
 Shakespeare." 
 
 " What matters for instance? " 
 
 " He hasn't said. And, besides, I have my 
 music." 
 
 " Ah, well. Get it into your heart 
 
 ' The music in my heart I bore 
 Long after it was heard no more 1 ' 
 
 " That's Wordsworth. You could apprec 
 iate him, I'm sure. But, there's your mother, 
 a word or two with her, and I must go." 
 
 Mr. Marston had driven the buggy to the 
 door; Mrs Marston alighted just as Mrs. Nelson 
 came out. They shootk hands cordially, and 
 Mrs. Nelson soon found that the report was 
 true they would move in a few days. Though 
 not precisely what she would have chosen for a 
 residence she was sure the children would enjoy 
 living at Pleasant Hill, and it was the best that 
 could be done for Harold ; " Consideration for 
 his comfort and health is now our paramount 
 duty," remarked Mrs. Marston. 
 
 " But the dreadful stories about the place its 
 closed balcony and the fiery wheel, and the ter 
 rible wires, and all ! " returned Mrs. Nelson. 
 " How can you go there to live? " 
 
 " I have never listened to those stories," re-
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 15 
 
 turned Mrs. Marston. " Pippeton gossip never 
 troubled me." 
 
 " Of course it is for Harold ; but we are not 
 obliged to sacrifice ourselves for our children; 
 and there is no command to do better by others 
 than to ourselves," said Mrs Nelson. 
 
 "I hold that by doing better to others than to 
 ourselves ; that is, by denying self, we reap a 
 higher good, and so there can be no real self- 
 sacrifice," responded Mrs. Marston. 
 
 "Ah? I don't agree with you there. I never 
 could make of sacrifice a delight. How is it with 
 you, Mr. Marston? " was Mrs. Nelson's rejoinder, 
 with a gay little laugh. 
 
 Though Mr. Marston appreciated this neigh 
 bor's frequent kindnesses, he disliked her when 
 in what he called her " quotation mood," and 
 with merely a polite bow he drove to the stable. 
 
 Mrs. Nelson soon passed on her homeward 
 way and Mrs. Marston went into the house. By 
 this time Lottie had finished the scrubbing and 
 returned the furniture to the parlor. 
 
 Edith had remained in the library, which 
 was now in its usual condition. She had taken 
 down Wordsworth to find the verse Mrs. Nelson 
 had quoted, and stood on the step-ladder before 
 the corner shelves when her mother entered. So 
 absorbed was she in reading going rapidly 
 from page to page in her eagerness at this new
 
 16 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 delight that Mrs. Marston had spoken three 
 times, mentioning different objects of interest 
 she had noticed during her drive, before she 
 could arrest her attention. At last Edith looked 
 around toward her mother, the book still open 
 her fingers keeping her place in the poem, 
 " What did you say about a lovely little lake, 
 mama? " she asked. 
 
 " Oh ! I merely mentioned that with other at 
 tractions the country has, where your father has 
 taken me. The river just beyond the meadows 
 was a picture by itself with its pretty arched 
 bridge and the boats going up and down. 
 There's a fine view of it from Pleasant Hill, 
 I think there is a road leading to it back of the 
 orchard. " 
 
 " Is that are we really going to move? and 
 to Pleasant Hill? Mrs. Nelson had heard a re 
 port of our moving and, perhaps, going there." 
 
 " You would like it, daughter, I think." 
 
 The color flushed into Edith's cheeks, there 
 was a troubled light in her bright blue eyes. 
 She did not speak, but looked with quivering 
 lips at her mother's unusually sober face. 
 
 Mrs. Marston turned her gaze to the window 
 and to the well-kept lawn. Nothing more was 
 said for a full minute. At last Edith spoke in a 
 dissatisfied, querulous- tone, "A dismal farm, 
 she called it Mrs. Nelson did."
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 17 
 
 " I've told you something of its surroundings, 
 dear," said her mother, seating herself at the 
 window, and again looking anxiously toward 
 the girl. " The house seemed pleasant," she 
 went on ; " it must be very comfortable and cozy. 
 I supose you'll be sorry as I am to leave this 
 dear home. But your father and I feel that for 
 Harold's sake it must be done." 
 
 " For Harold? Why, mother, I didn't know, 
 I didn't think he was so sick as ihatf" She 
 saw something in her mother's face that caused 
 her to replace the book and hasten to her side. 
 Passing her arm across her shoulders she laid 
 her cheek to hers and said in a tearful voice 
 " I didn't mean to be cross, mother dear. I'll 
 try to like it ; of cours-e I will. But how differ 
 ent everything will be. Yes, there must be a 
 great deal in Pippoton that is lovely; but no 
 body there that we know ; and Pleasant Hill is so 
 far from Hillsford! Don't you think Oldie will 
 miss his friends dropping in every day, and be 
 lonesome?" 
 
 " If his health improves, which we hope, he 
 will find so much to occupy his mind and his 
 time he won't be lonesome. You mustn't let him 
 think for a moment that going there is a hard 
 ship. No more tears, dear. Run along now and 
 see what you can do for him. I must go to 
 grandmother; she will want to know our deci-
 
 i8 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 sion. Fm afraid she is feeling sadder about it 
 than we. You know she is never contented a 
 day out of Hillsford, and she has lived so long 
 in this house it will be difficult for her to feel 
 at home in any other."
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 19 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A MORNING OF EXCITEMENT. 
 
 HAROLD passed a sleepless night; towards 
 morning suffered from a hectic, was struggling 
 with a succeeding chill when his mother came 
 to his chamber. Shocked by his appearance she 
 forgot her usual prudence and exclaimed, " Oh ! 
 my dear boy, how ill you look! Why did I let 
 you do so much yesterday?" 
 
 " I am miserable. Tell father I'll not take a 
 drive to-day, will save my strength for to-mor 
 row. Don't you think I ought to keep in bed 
 just for to-day there'll be so much going on?" 
 
 " It will be wise," she said, then went im 
 mediately to urge her husband to hasten the 
 moving. 
 
 It was well he didn't speak of it to the chil 
 dren till breakfast was half over, for neither 
 Polly nor Tad could eat another morsel when he 
 told them, and their questions came so thick and 
 fast others at the table had difficulty in finish-
 
 20 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 ing the meal. Finally, they were advised to 
 hunt up the puppy and give him something to 
 eat. 
 
 The first thing in the morning they had gone 
 to the shed where they had put him for the 
 night; but he wasn't there. The breakfast bell 
 rang so soon they hadn't time to look for him 
 so, bemoaning his loss, they had come to the 
 table and the talk about moving had banished 
 him from thought. They were glad to be re 
 minded of him, however. 
 
 " He is probably hiding somewhere in the gar 
 den," said their mother, " Go and look among 
 the bushes." 
 
 " Oh ! stay ! " cried Tom ; " I had a glimpse of 
 him, as I came down stairs, chasing Mrs. Nel 
 son's kitten in her clothesyard." 
 
 " Don't go over," said their father, " call him 
 call him from the fence." 
 
 " I'm afraid he hasn't learnt his name yet," 
 said Polly. " He's only had it since last night." 
 
 " What is his name? " asked Edith. 
 
 " Duncan, Oldie gave it Susan wouldn't 
 said she didn't know any dogs' names." 
 
 " That's a good name," said Mr. Marston, as 
 Tad left the table. 
 
 " It isn't a pretty name," said Polly. " But 
 he isn't a pretty dog, you know." 
 
 " You see, papa, it fits him," said Tad, " be-
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 21 
 
 cause he's a dun animal and we can keep him 
 Dun-can." 
 
 " Oldie thought it out all in a minute," said 
 Polly. " Don't you think our Oldie has bright 
 thoughts? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, often. I'm glad the puppy has 
 such a name; yet I want you to know that you 
 must call him a dumb animal. You misunder 
 stood the word when I spoke about being kind. 
 Still, he is a dun animal, because he is brown; 
 he is a dumb animal because he can't speak." 
 
 " Dogs and puppies can be taught to 
 speak," said Polly. " Perhaps we can teach 
 him to speak for his food, Dr. Houghton's dog 
 does." 
 
 " There, there, children," said their mother ; 
 " run along and find him." 
 
 " I must hasten," said Mr. Marston. " I want 
 to call on Mr. Walcott to talk about the younger 
 children they must, for the present, go to the 
 Pippoton schools. Thomas and Edith will re 
 main where they now are, Darley is to drive me 
 every morning and they can come too." 
 
 Roland and Robert were so pleased at the 
 prospect of moving that when Polly and Tad 
 went in search of the puppy they slipped si 
 lently from the table to go to their grandmother's 
 room to tell her the news. 
 
 It was a lovely, old-fashioned room, with its
 
 22 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 ancient cornice and chimney piece of carved oak, 
 and its quaint wall-paper, on which a shepherd 
 boy piped continually to a few lazy sheep and a 
 dainty little maiden always held her distaff; its 
 fireplace of pictured tiles, of which the babies, 
 one after another, had learned the stories; and 
 the big shining balls of the brass andirons, in 
 which the same babies had stared and laughed 
 at their distorted features; the fender, which 
 kept the toddlers from the dangers of the fire 
 while they stood at grandma's knee and watched 
 the sparks that the blazing log hurried up the 
 black flue, and with her counted how many of 
 the sparks were people going to church, and 
 which was the " parson " and which the " clerk." 
 And here were grandmother's treasures; the 
 portrait of her son, the children's father, when 
 he was a small boy with brown curling hair and 
 very red cheeks, in a large frilled white collar, 
 a blue velvet coat, brown trousers that reached 
 to his ankles, white stockings, and blue morocco 
 ankle ties; an orange in one hand, a book in the 
 other. The portrait of their aunt Maria, in the 
 same style of painting, with golden hair, large 
 blue eyes, and a pink and white complexion, in 
 a dress of white, thin material, lace at the neck 
 and on the arms. She was married and now lived 
 in Colorado. A crayon likeness of their uncle 
 James, a retired sea-captain, now an East In-
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 23 
 
 dian merchant, doing business in Calcutta. He, 
 too, was married, and had his family with him. 
 
 Here were specimens of grandmother's skill 
 in embroidery and painting : the parting of Hec 
 tor and Andromache, done in satin-stitch while 
 at boarding school; Rebecca at the Well, in 
 worsteds, a flower-piece in water colors, and the 
 vale of Chamouny in oils. All these had been the 
 admiration of her grandchildren in their early 
 years, and their kindly comments were dear to 
 the old lady's heart. The tall secretary with 
 its brass handles and key-pieces, and its deep 
 drawers holding so many wonderful things, 
 cases of old-fashioned jewelry, rolls of ribbon, 
 cards of costly lace; one drawer full of all sorts 
 of queer toys and dolls that had seen much 
 handling and were yet capable of affording 
 amusement to the little ones; and even a con 
 fectionery drawer where, at all times, visitors 
 were welcome to help themselves to its sweets, 
 a privilege not by any means neglected. 
 
 Mrs. Marston, as usual, had arranged the pil 
 lows at grandmother's back. She still wore her 
 white muslin night-cap, its crimped border 
 snugly drawn around her silver hair and yet 
 comely face. Mrs. Marston had pinned her 
 breakfast shawl over her shoulders to guard 
 against chill, and handed her her glasses. The
 
 24 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 glasses did not wholly hide the happy light in 
 her handsome eyes, and a sweet smile broke over 
 her refined features as the boys entered. 
 
 " Good morning ! " shouted Robert, springing 
 to the bed, and nearly smothering her with 
 kisses. " Oh ! you beautiful grandma ! " he cried, 
 as she returned his caresses ; * 'You are the best, 
 the dearest old lady in the world ! " 
 
 Roland, less demonstrative, contented himself 
 with squeezing her hand and retaining it, merely 
 remarking that he was sorry to be too late 
 to bring up her breakfast. 
 
 " And we shan't have another chance, do you 
 know?" said Robert, "because we are going 
 to move out of this house." 
 
 " Yes, dear," she replied, looking kindly upon 
 him, but stroking tenderly Roland's hand that 
 held hers. 
 
 "Do you feel bad? are you sorry? I hope 
 not, because its going to be the best thing for 
 Oldie. And I'm sure it will be fine for the rest 
 of us. And you know you ought to be glad for 
 other people's happiness." 
 
 He had seen a far-away look in his grand 
 mother's eyes something he had never seen be 
 fore and the smile had died out of her face as 
 she stroked Roland's hand, so he had rattled on, 
 scarcely aware of what he was saying. 
 
 She did not reply but raised her eyes to her
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 25 
 
 daughter's portrait and seemed lost in thought. 
 
 " It's too bad for you, grandma, dear," said 
 Koland. " Perhaps we'll come back here when 
 Harold is well again I guess we could." 
 
 She shook her head solemnly, and Robert 
 went to the window and looked into the garden. 
 Polly and Tad were there romping with the dog, 
 under the blooming pear and cherry trees. He 
 had heard his father say that grandmother had 
 helped set out those trees and but for the care 
 she gave them through several years they could 
 not have attained their present vigorous condi 
 tion. 
 
 " If there aren't trees up there, I mean to ask 
 papa to get some, and we'll make a garden just 
 like this. You'd like that wouldn't you 
 grandma?" he said coming again to her bed 
 side. 
 
 " Yes, indeed, Bertie. It would be very pleas 
 ant. When your mother first told me that we 
 were to move to Pleasant Hill, and on account 
 of Harold's health, I thought so much about 
 your poor sick brother, I hadn't any idea of 
 the change it would be for me. But when I look 
 around this room I begin to realize it; and I 
 want you boys I want all the children to 
 help me bear the change cheerfully; and what 
 you've said about the trees shows me that you 
 understand how I feel and will try to help me."
 
 26 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 Both the boys looked very sober while she was 
 speaking. There was deep silence for a moment. 
 Then she roused herself. " Oh ! boys, let us re 
 member, we shall have something, all of us, to 
 take the place of what we leave here. We shall 
 find compensation for trial and loss we always 
 do, at every step of the way through life. We 
 can have just as much happiness at Pleasant Hill 
 as we have had here, and it's coming to us by 
 helping each other to be happy. Now run along 
 to school, boys don't be late this last day with 
 your mates there." 
 
 Glancing at the dial of the church clock at the 
 street corner Koland said " Let's tell Mr. Good 
 win. There's time enough if we hurry." 
 
 " Oh ! Mr. Goodwin ! Mr. Goodwin ! " ex 
 claimed both as they entered the carpenter's 
 shop " Don't you think," began Robert. 
 
 " I'm the oldest, let me speak first," cried Ro 
 land, in his eagerness laying his hand on his 
 brother's mouth for an instant "we're go 
 ing " 
 
 " Quit that ! " said Robert, dashing the hand 
 aside. 
 
 " Come, come, boys," I thought you never 
 quarrelled," said Mr. Goodwin. 
 
 " Everybody has to stand up for his rights, 
 and everybody's entitled to free speech, Mr. Wil- 
 cott says free speech in America, I mean ; and
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 27 
 
 Roll had no business to stop my mouth," re 
 turned Robert. 
 
 " Tisn't a quarrel," said Roland, quite sub 
 dued, his face very red as if he were ashamed 
 of what he had done. 
 
 " Bad manners, if it wasn't quarrelling," said 
 Mr. Goodwin, setting aside the strip of board he 
 had planed. " I've always said the Marstons 
 had good manners. I wouldn't have believed it 
 of you ; and one is as bad as the other." 
 
 He looked very grave. Taking up another 
 strip of board, he laid it on his bench, his dark, 
 steady eyes resting alternately on that and then 
 on the boys, as he prepared for planing. 
 
 The silence was uncomfortable. 
 
 " Manners show what stuff a person is made 
 of," he said at last, seating himself on the bench. 
 
 " Stuff? " asked Roland, humbly. 
 
 " Yes, what he is inside, what sort of a heart, 
 and conscience he has. A big, warm heart and 
 quick, clear conscience " 
 
 He folded his arms as he hesitated a moment 
 then went on, " Yes, what I've thought you both 
 had give good manners. I know knotty, cross- 
 grained stuff never makes a good show ; I want 
 smooth, solid stuff for that. I'm afraid I've 
 come across knots and coarseness in you both 
 this morning. Sorry, sorry very sorry." 
 
 He shook his head and began planing again.
 
 28 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 Roland and Robert looked very soberly at each 
 other. Then Robert, somewhat confused picked 
 up a pine shaving as it fell from Mr. Goodwin's 
 plane. Winding it round his hand, he said 
 slowly, " Roll, you may tell, you ought, because 
 you are the oldest." 
 
 " Oh, now, I say, Bertie," came the tremulous 
 response. " No, no. No matter if I am older 
 than you ; you can talk faster than I can." 
 
 Mr. Goodwin, pleased by this dawn of kind 
 feeling, said, " Well, Robert, I'm listening, I can 
 hear and work too." 
 
 " We're going to move, father's bought a farm. 
 What do you think of that? Fine, isn't it?" 
 and the boy's face glowed with the delight he 
 felt. 
 
 " That depends. Why does your father leave 
 here? Isn't it a sudden change? " 
 
 " You ought to do all you can for your family, 
 don't you think?" said Roland, rather timidly, 
 " even if it comes sudden." 
 
 " I suppose if I had a family I should think 
 so." 
 
 " It's on account of Harold," said Robert. 
 " The doctor says he must go right away. 
 
 "Oh! is your father going to Pleasant Hill? 
 I have a friend in that neighborhood. I go 
 there often."
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 29 
 
 " Then you can come and see us there. Will 
 you? I hope you will," said Roland. 
 
 " Perhaps. When I visit my friend I try to do 
 as she thinks best." 
 
 " Mama says that's what visitors ought to do. 
 It wouldn't be polite to do what wouldn't be 
 pleasant to people who are kind enough to let 
 you visit them," said Robert. 
 
 "And politeness, is only kindness, you know 
 that, I suppose?" 
 
 " O yes. You can't help being polite to a per 
 son when you feel kind to that person," said 
 Roland. 
 
 " Pleasant Hill will be a good place for Har 
 old. There are pine woods, not so many as in the 
 Adirondacks, quite a piece of them, though. He 
 might have a hammock and keep out all the fair 
 weather, and so pick up strength and healing 
 from the balsam in the air." 
 
 But, come, the school bell has been ringing 
 some time. I must go to the lumber yard to or 
 der more stock; so good by, good by; and good 
 luck to you." 
 
 " Good by ! " shouted Robert bounding to 
 wards the door. 
 
 " Manners, good manners, Bert," said Roland, 
 taking the hand extended by Mr. Goodwin and 
 shaking it heartily. 
 
 " Oh, there ! it's just like me," said Robert, re-
 
 30 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 turning and doing as Koland had done. " And 
 I thank you, sir, for your good wishes, is that 
 right, Roll? " he added gaily. 
 
 Roland nodded and smiled. 
 
 " A form, only a form," said Mr. Goodwin ; 
 " but, boys, it has a deep meaning, and I like 
 it. If young people only knew how much they 
 gain by attending to these and other little acts 
 of kindness I think they would be less likely to 
 omit them. And, if only doing them out of po 
 liteness, when doing them has become a habit, 
 they will be less likely to omit them ; there will 
 be moments, times of importance, when they will 
 find, in reality, that they are something more 
 than mere form."
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 31 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 MISTAKES AND MISHAPS. 
 
 "LOTTIE," said Mrs. Marston going into the 
 kitchen after breakfast, " Harold is so poorly he 
 will keep in bed to-day ; and we must be as quiet 
 as possible, that he may get some sleep. He 
 had none last night." 
 
 " Oh, t'e tear boy ! I so so'hy ! I make t'ings 
 very still," she returned. 
 
 " Susan thinks she can do nothing but try 
 to make Maud contented in the nursery. I de 
 pend upon you to help me get things in readiness 
 for to-morrow, early; and Dear me! what's 
 that?" 
 
 There was a loud bang at the kitchen door, 
 and children's voices and a puppy's bark made 
 a great uproar. 
 
 " O t'e doggie ! t'e wee doggie ! " exclaimed 
 Lottie. 
 
 Tad and Polly and Annie Wilson as they came 
 scuffling in were shouting and urging the puppy 
 to respond to his name.
 
 32 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " Thaddeus," said Mrs. Marston, " I can't have 
 this. Polly, you know better than to let him 
 bring the dog in here." 
 
 " Lottie said we might. He is to be here while 
 we go to school." 
 
 " I can't allow it, take him to the shed and 
 tie him there securely. And then make your 
 selves ready for school." 
 
 " Oh, please, please, mama ! " whined Tad. 
 
 She shook her head resolutely they knew she 
 must be obeyed. 
 
 " Here, Duncan ! Dun ! Dunnie ! " cried Tad 
 sharply. 
 
 " O poor, poor Dunnie," said Polly Annie 
 Nelson gave a little scream, as in terror. 
 
 Lottie, in her preparations for the moving had 
 taken down the kitchen clock (it was a looking- 
 glass clock) to the floor. The dog seeing his re 
 flection therein had gone towards it. A crash 
 and a loud yelp and the infuriated animal rushed 
 out of the room and out of doors; the children 
 after him, pell-mell, screaming his name and 
 their sympathy. 
 
 " How could you give them leave to keep him 
 in the kitchen while they are at school, Lottie? " 
 said Mrs. Marston. 
 
 " No, no, ma'am," sobbed Lottie, gazing as if 
 terror-striken at the demolished glass. " Only 
 whiles they go to school. Not so ve'hy great
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 33 
 
 time, I fought; an' t'n I take him to t'e shed, 
 you see." 
 
 " That was deception," said Mrs. Marston, 
 sternly. " They understood you that he could 
 stay here till they returned from school." 
 
 " T'ey said eet was so lonesome for t'e poor 
 creetur, an' he was most lost; an' Taddie feel 
 so bad." 
 
 " Taddie did wrong to ask you, Lottie. But 
 you have done much worse to deceive." 
 
 Lottie's face was very red. She had begun to 
 pick the broken glass from the floor. She 
 stopped, without rising, and looked very soberly 
 at Mrs. Marston. 
 
 "You t'ink I lie, I feel not so. An' I feel 
 veh'ly bad for any one say I lie," she said. 
 
 " It meant the same as a lie. And I am very, 
 very sorry. I thought I could believe you," re 
 turned Mrs. Marston, " thought you were truth 
 ful in every way. Oh, dear! must I have this 
 added to my other troubles?" Distressed and 
 perplexed, she choked down her feelings with 
 one sob and went on calmly. " Pack the baking 
 dishes and pans in a barrel, from the cellar, this 
 forenoon. I will finish packing what can be 
 spared from the dining-room." 
 
 Half an hour later Lottie came to that room, 
 while her mistress was employed there. " If 
 you please," said the repentant girl in a tremu-
 
 34 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 lous voice, her swollen eyelids and crimson face 
 giving evidence of the struggle she had passed 
 through. " I did not t'ink to lie, not to be so 
 bahd as t'at, no, never! T'e chil'en is dear 
 chil'en, but I will go ahway because you t'ink I 
 make t'em to lie," and two big tears rolled down 
 her cheeks. 
 
 " I didn't say you would make them lie." 
 
 " No, ma'am ; but I t'ink you fought so.'" 
 
 " Children learn wrong sayings and wrong do 
 ings very easily, very quickly," returned Mrs. 
 Marston. 
 
 " Yes, ma'am. I know t'ay does. But dat 
 one time I didn't t'ink 'bout it. I don't know, 
 I'll try to learn to t'ink not to." 
 
 " Well, Lottie ; let it be only this one time. 
 Remember to say exactly just what you mean, 
 what you know is right, and we'll say no more 
 about this. I will try to think as well of you as 
 before. I haven't time to talk any more now. 
 Gro about your work. We've a great deal to do 
 to-day ; " as she spoke she was trying to fasten a 
 basket cover. 
 
 Lottie saw the difficulty and stopped an in 
 stant to assist her. " You know how, just how, 
 to fix it ; and how strong you are ! " she said 
 pleasantly. " Thank you, thank you, Lottie." 
 
 "Yes, ma'am, I like to please you. I am
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 35 
 
 glad," and smiling through her tears went to the 
 kitchen only to return the next minute. 
 
 She had answered the door-bell and came to 
 announce a gentleman in the parlor, Mr. Hay- 
 ward, the minister. He was a good old man, ven 
 erable in appearance and saint-like in character. 
 The Marston family were warmly attached to 
 him and he also to them. 
 
 " I suppose you are very busy," he said, com 
 ing forward as she entered ; with a hearty grasp 
 of her hand, he went on, " I couldn't refrain 
 from coming in on my way to the post-office." 
 
 " Oh ! indeed, you are always welcome," she 
 returned. " Never more so than now, when I 
 have so much to discourage me." 
 
 " No, no, my dear ; don't say that, with so 
 much to make your life beautiful," he said, tak 
 ing the comfortable arm-chair to which she 
 pointed ; with a murmured " Thank you," he 
 placed his feet on a hassock which she brought 
 forward, and then went on to say that ever 
 since he had heard of their leaving Hillsford he 
 had been wanting to congratulate them on se 
 curing Pleasant Hill; for it was just the place 
 for Harold, he would no doubt be greatly bene- 
 fitted by its healthful, invigorating atmosphere. 
 
 She gave him a detailed account of Harold's 
 condition, but could not consent to " the little 
 careless chat " with him, which he desired. " He
 
 36 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 is very feeble to-day," she said; and her great 
 anxiety was so apparent, he rebuked her, assured 
 her she still had large reason for hope and 
 courage. " My dear child," he continued, laying 
 his hand tenderly upon her shoulder, " you must 
 not let the fogs rising from your tiresome daily 
 duties obscure your sunlight, you understand? " 
 
 He had scarcely gone when Mrs. Nelson 
 tapped on the window to signify her wish to be 
 admitted. 
 
 Mrs. Marston raised the window, but said 
 nothing. " Don't think I am intrusive," said 
 Mrs. Nelson. " I want to help you. You looked 
 so completely tired out when I was in last that 
 every time I sit down to my embroidery I see 
 your face right before me, I don't feel right not 
 to do something for you " 
 
 " You are very kind," was replied, " but I can 
 get along very well. If I do the packing I shall 
 know where to find things afterwards." 
 
 " Oh ! I'll just dust your bric-a-brac. You can 
 trust me. I'm a good packer." 
 
 Mrs. Marston smiled continued Ousting a 
 picture. 
 
 " Self-praise, you think, I suppose. But I 
 sent a large box of Christmas presents to cousin 
 Maria last winter, fragile things, most of them, 
 but not even a nick on one of them. You just
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 37 
 
 get me some cotton batting, or your piece-bag, 
 and you'll see what I can do." 
 
 Poor Mrs. Marston, though she trembled for 
 the choice bits of porcelain and rare pottery that 
 embellished her mantel and cabinet, saw no help 
 for it ; Mrs. Nelson must be gratified. She must 
 make the best of her officiousness, and even be 
 grateful for it, disagreeable as she felt per 
 suaded, if not disastrous, though it might prove. 
 She brought the piece-bag with proper docility, 
 and a huge roll of batting ; and Mrs. Nelson was 
 happy, chatting and rolling and swathing one 
 dainty thing after another, for Mrs. Marston to 
 dispose of in box or basket. 
 
 Mr. Hayward, coming from grandmother Mar- 
 ston's room, seeing the two women thus em 
 ployed and knowing Mrs. Nelson's predilections 
 said pleasantly. " So you are helping Mrs. Mar 
 ston to shut up the story of her days here, as 
 Raleigh says, ' A kind office, a most benevolent, 
 neighborly turn.' " ' 
 
 " Yes, sir," she returned, " I feel ' my heart 
 new opened,' as Shakespeare says, now that I 
 am to lose this good neighbor." 
 
 " Oh ! it's not a loss, transference of location 
 need not be transference of affection, you know. 
 Out of sight need not be out of mind." 
 
 " ' A mind not to be changed by place or time ' 
 we should have, of course. But human nature
 
 38 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 is human nature everywhere, you will allow 
 that, I presume, and ' 
 
 Mrs. Nelson could not finish her sentence. 
 The beautiful Majolica vase that she was wrap 
 ping slipped from her fingers to the edge of the 
 marble slab on which it had rested, and fell to 
 the floor in fragments. 
 
 For an instant Mrs. Marston felt that she had 
 reached the lowest depths of despair in a like 
 shattered condition. The crash of that fall went 
 through her sensibilities like a knell, the vase 
 was the gift of a very dear friend long dead. 
 She turned pale, but not a word escaped her 
 lips. Mrs. Nelson, on the contrary, flushed like 
 a peony and was profuse in lamentations and 
 regrets. Seeing how quietly Mrs. Marston went 
 on putting her small bronze Mercury into its 
 case, she couldn't refrain from repeating, with 
 a dramatic air 
 
 ' And mistress of herself though china fall.' " 
 Mr. Hayward had cast a sympathetic glance to 
 ward Mrs. Marston. He suddenly changed his 
 expression; this ebullition was too much for 
 his gravity; his keen blue eyes twinkled, the 
 muscles of his mouth twitched, to which Mrs. 
 Marston responded, in spite of grief, with a very 
 pleasant smile. Then with a kind message to 
 Harold, and expressing the hope that there
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 39 
 
 should be no farther disaster in the moving he 
 bade them a courteous good day. 
 
 Polly, coming from school met him in the 
 doorway. She gave him a rapturous kiss and an 
 urgent invitation to Pleasant Hill. " And don't 
 forget that I like chocolate caramels." Tad, 
 just behind her, doffed his tam-o-shanter and 
 echoed her words. Then both children rushed 
 into the midst of the packing. 
 
 Mrs. Nelson, surrounded by the contents of 
 the piece-bag received Polly's first attention. 
 "Can't you help?" she said. "Get me the 
 softest pieces." 
 
 " Yes 1 , but this is just what I want. See, Tad- 
 die ! " and she held up a quantity of gray linen. 
 " For the spruce pillow, you know. And, Mrs. 
 Nelson, will you just tell me, please, what the 
 words are to go on it" 
 
 " Spruce pillow?" 
 
 " Why yes. What you made for the Fair." 
 
 " Oh ! Well, are you sure your mother will 
 let you have the linen?" 
 
 Mrs. Marston had left the room. 
 
 " 'Course she will," said Tad. " It's no good ; 
 couldn't be made into a dress. It's to be a 
 s'prise, too." 
 
 " And it's just the size," said Polly, folding it. 
 " I'm going to make the words right away, so 
 it will be all ready to put the spruce in for Oldie
 
 40 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 the very minute I get up to the farm. The smell 
 of it is going to help cure him, you know, Mrs. 
 Nelson. Tad, you write down the words." 
 
 Tad brought forth from his pocket a number 
 of small articles from which he drew with great 
 pride a bit of lead pencil and a soiled steamer 
 ticket, and with much labor proceeded to write 
 as Mrs. Nelson dictated. It was a tedious task, 
 and only half accomplished when Lottie called 
 him to give Duncan something to still his bark 
 ing and whining, and then said lunch was ready. 
 Mrs. Nelson said she would only stop for a cup 
 of coffee, she must go and attend to her own 
 children's lunch. Mrs. Marston did not urge her 
 to stay, and just at that moment giving Tom 
 directions about his room, forgot to thank her 
 for her services. 
 
 Polly took up the piece of linen on which Tad 
 had drawn a few letters, crammed it into her 
 pocket, and fled to the dining-room. Edith 
 came in; and then there was so much to talk 
 about between Tom, his mother and Edith, 
 Polly and Tad were unusually silent all lunch 
 time. After that Polly told Tad they could 
 make the letters on the linen in the shed and 
 keep Dunnie company, too. " He's lonesome, 
 that's what makes him whine," he said. " You 
 just go and write the rest of it and I'll get needle 
 and thread to sew it."
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 41 
 
 Tad, who was in a very obedient mood, espe 
 cially as this would give him the pleasure of 
 Dunnie's society, went to the shed with alacrity; 
 Polly, meanwhile rummaging her mother's and 
 Edith's workbaskets for what she considered 
 suitable thread. Finally, in a box of embroidery 
 she discovered some gold-colored floss which she 
 appropriated gleefully, and, as time now was 
 short before the bell would ring for afternoon 
 school, she ran to the shed, impatient to begin 
 the work. Tad had played with Duncan instead 
 of finishing the words, and the steamer ticket, 
 on which, for a support, he had folded the linen, 
 had fallen out, was trampled under foot and 
 now too much soiled for any use whatever. The 
 linen, wrinkled by the pressure it had had in 
 Polly's pocket, knew much rougher treatment 
 in Tad's frolic with the puppy ; and, still grasped 
 in Tad's hand, was a sorry-looking object. 
 Polly, much displeased, snatched it and with 
 no very gentle touch, tried to smoothe out the 
 creases. " Tad Marston," she said, " you ought 
 to be ashamed of yourself. It's your surprise as 
 much as mine, and it ought to look nice and 
 handsome." 
 
 " See, here, Polly, I didn't think ; and I guess 
 it'll come all smooth when the spruce is squeezed 
 in to make it full." 
 
 " Well, you let Dun alone now, and help me.
 
 42 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 Perhaps it won't look quite so bad when it is all 
 done." 
 
 " My pencil wouldn't write well, and I just 
 wanted to tell you so. Oh! goody! this'll do 
 first-rate," and Tad picked up from the shed 
 floor a slender piece of charcoal. Then Polly 
 spied a barrel cover near, that Tad said was 
 " heaps better " than that old steamer card. 
 
 In a few minutes the writing was accom 
 plished. Polly, intently watching Tad's grimy 
 fingers lest they should soil the linen, had not 
 given attention to the letters. To her dismay, 
 she saw, as she stretched the linen to its original 
 smoothness several distressing blemishes. 
 
 In the first place though Tad's writing was 
 generally neater than Polly's (and that was why 
 he took that part of the work) he had not yet 
 learned to make capitals ; so he had begun every 
 word with an immense letter. And, spelling not 
 being his forte, while Polly excelled in that 
 branch of education, she was ready to cry at the 
 superfluous letters which crowded the small 
 space he had given the words. 
 
 "Oh, Taddie!" she exclaimed," you never 
 should make a capital G like that. And that 
 Give, with two gs to begin with, is horrid. And 
 there's only one f in of and one 1 in balm. What 
 did you write spruce for? and spruce has only 
 one u and it ought to be fir,"
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 43 
 
 "Why! we are going to make it of spruce, 
 Pollywog. So it ought to say spruce. And it 
 looks nice with two u's. Give me of thy balm, 
 
 spruce. That's all right." 
 
 " O Tad ! it isn't right, it isn't. But I suppose 
 
 1 must sew it, because it can't be rubbed out." 
 With a doleful sigh she seated herself on a 
 
 woodpile, and threaded her needle. Unused to 
 handling floss, it was sometime before the first 
 stitch was in place. 
 
 Tad, supposing she had no farther need of his 
 services, romped merrily with the puppy. Polly 
 worked on patiently a while. But, at last, she 
 could endure the noise and distraction no lon 
 ger. 
 
 " Do keep still, Taddie," she said, fretfully ; 
 you and Dun joggle me so I've made that stitch 
 ever so much too large." 
 
 " Chil'en " called Lottie from the kitchen 
 window, " you' mama say t' school-bell mos' done 
 ringing." 
 
 " Guess we might as well hide it in here," said 
 Taddie, opening a drawer in an old desk used for 
 keeping gardening tools and seeds. 
 
 Polly folded up the linen, scowling as she did 
 so, for she was disappointed by its careless ap 
 pearance. " I don't believe it will look a bit 
 pretty with all those mistakes, Tad," she said 
 crossly.
 
 44 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " I'm sure it looks fine, begins to, a'ready," he 
 said. " Give me of thy balm, O spruce tree " 
 in his most impressive style. 
 
 " But, I tell you what, Polly, it ought to say 
 him, not me, to be just right, don't you think? 
 Because it is what we want for him, for Oldie, 
 you know." 
 
 Polly's hair was tumbled ; she said she must fix 
 it, and went to her room. She hadn't forgotten 
 Harold's words and her father's advice about 
 her personal appearance, and she spent nearly 
 a half hour every morning in arranging her hair 
 for the day, but this was always accomplished 
 before breakfast; to-day's experience made 
 necessary an extra attention. 
 
 Tad waited for her, as usual; then they trot 
 ted off together. 
 
 Mrs. Marston with all her perplexing and 
 pressing duties on this day, kept Harold upper 
 most in mind and went occasionally to his room 
 to enquire how he was and to look after his com 
 fort. During the forenoon he had refreshing 
 sleep; after that she was glad to find he was 
 much better than in the morning. 
 
 Dr. Houghton came in, approved his keeping 
 in bed and advised his removal to Pleasant Hill 
 the following day if the weather were fair. He 
 talked some time about the advantages of a
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 45 
 
 quiet, restful life there, and left Mrs. Marston 
 much encouraged in regard to Harold's condi 
 tion, and what might be expected from the 
 change to the clear, dry air of Pippoton. 
 
 When Mr. Marston came to dinner he was 
 much pleased to see his wife in better spirits 
 than for a week past, " even the tones of her 
 voice more cheerful and her movements more 
 buoyant," he remarked to grandmother, and that 
 it " did him good to see this ; " " and, you, your 
 self, mother," he went on to say, "seem getting 
 younger, every day. K 
 
 "There's nothing like hope, Philip;" she re 
 marked, " nothing like hope to cheer and to en 
 courage." 
 
 The baby was, apparently, on her best be 
 havior; owing, no doubt, to the license which 
 Susan had taken from Mrs. Marston's order to 
 keep her pleasant and quiet which she inter 
 preted as full indulgence of all her whims. So 
 Maud had a delightful time in utilizing all the 
 resources of the nursery by way of disorder and 
 confusion; now, brimming over with self-satis 
 faction, the merry little thing was ready to 
 greet her father in the sweetest of moods. 
 
 Seeing Harold still in bed, Mr. Marston was 
 at first disposed to find some fault with his wife, 
 fearing that in the stress of household cares she
 
 46 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 had neglected him. But she gave him the com 
 mendation that Dr. Houghton had granted her 
 for the judicious restraint she had exercised in 
 'her management of the invalid, and Harold, 
 himself, soon assured him of his mother's con 
 tinual and watchful care, and convinced him of 
 the wisdom of remaining there while so much 
 was going on; and, thus reserving strength, on 
 arriving at the new home he should be able and 
 rejoiced to take his accustomed place with the 
 rest of the family. 
 
 Many plans were to be unfolded, and orders 
 given that evening, and Edith and Tom were 
 kept as busy as their parents in getting matters 
 in readiness. Roland and Robert were also 
 much interested and took a good share in the 
 proceedings. Finally, Polly and Taddie were 
 pressed into the service and worked bravely as 
 long as daylight lasted, notwithstanding Polly's 
 frequent protests that she had something " very 
 important" to do. Her thoughts, divided be 
 tween her embroidery in the old desk drawer in 
 the shed and the carrying back and forth, and 
 up and down stairs, of sundry and numerous 
 goods. But the usual routine of family manage 
 ment had been set aside for the occasion, and 
 Polly's blunders passed unreproved, while Tad- 
 die's good humor was so contagious that even 
 his bumps and falls led to sallies of wit from
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 47 
 
 Roland, always considered, from his sedateness 
 and sobriety, the deacon of the household, and 
 Tom talked of getting up a volume of puns as 
 the outcome of the moving.
 
 48 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 PLEASANT HILL. 
 
 PLEASANT HILL is a portion of Pippoton a 
 pretty village near Hillsford. The previous 
 owner of the farm purchased by Mr. Mars ton, 
 was a retired sea captain. To gratify his 
 daughter, some ten years previous, he had de 
 molished part of the original old-fashioned farm 
 house, and to the remainder had added more 
 modern arrangements, also a balcony passing 
 around the second story. For three years, with 
 his wife and daughter, he lived there quietly 
 and happily. His wife died suddenly about that 
 time. Soon after his son graduated from a 
 scientific school. He became one of the family 
 as in his early boyhood, and was the pride of 
 his father, who indulged him in everything that 
 could assist him in perfecting his knowledge of 
 science, especially in chemical matters. 
 
 The son was ambitious to become an inventor, 
 and his father took much pleasure in furthering 
 his efforts along that line. He was allowed free
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 49 
 
 use of the balcony for his experiments, and for 
 two years he labored indefatigably on various 
 devices. The villagers looked with awe upon the 
 great loads of metals and curious packages of 
 what they considered poisons brought from a 
 distance to Pleasant Hill for young " Doctor 
 Hamilton." At last it was currently reported 
 that he had invented a wonderful machine, a 
 wheel which was to revolutionize all known 
 methods of labor. 
 
 He had applied for a patent, it was said ; and 
 the discovery, when patented, would bring him 
 great wealth. It was to be exhibited in the vil 
 lage Hall as soon as it was patented, and Pip- 
 ponton people were on the qui vive to attend 
 that exhibition. One night there came a tre 
 mendous boom, like a terrible peal of thunder, 
 and a flash like the sharpest lightning, that il 
 luminated all Pleasant Hill as if with a great 
 conflagration. Yet no fire resulted only great 
 destruction of the newer part of the farm-house. 
 And young Dr. Hamilton had never been seen 
 since. His father, Squire Hamilton, as he was 
 called, was reticent of the matter. But from 
 that night his disposition and whole nature were 
 changed; he was a gloomy, moody man, caring 
 for no society, or intercourse with his neighbors. 
 Dr. Houghton was his only confidant, apparently 
 his only friend; and when, soon after the catas-
 
 5 o THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 trophe, he went to California, he left the farm in 
 his hands, to be let, or to be sold, if possible. Im 
 mediately after the explosion he had closed the 
 balcony. His daughter soon followed him to 
 California. But the farm laborers whom the 
 Squire retained in his service, and Darley, a ca 
 pable and faithful agent, sometimes told strange 
 stories of rattling wires and flashing lights in 
 the closed balcony. These, together with the 
 disappearance of Dr. Hamilton, prejudiced the 
 villagers against the place, and the house re 
 mained unoccupied till Mr. Marston bought it. 
 
 It was not a large farm: a few acres of 
 meadow land, about the same of orchard and 
 tillage, half as much in a grove of pines and 
 spruces, a little garden of vines and flowers, of 
 kitchen herbs and vegetables, and a handsome 
 terraced lawn in front of the house, comprised 
 its extent. But it had been well-kept, and was 
 a comfortable home for persons of quiet tastes. 
 
 Pleasant Hill is a gentle declivity, command 
 ing a view of Pippoton and the river bounding 
 its northern limits. Towards the south and east 
 of the village lies Hillsford, its highest build 
 ings and spires easily distinguished. Beyond 
 these buildings an occasional glimpse of the 
 river's mouth, and of the ocean at the horizon, 
 sparkling in sunshine, silvery in moonlight, can
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 51 
 
 be obtained. When the atmosphere is especially 
 favorable, the white sails of vessels coming in 
 or going out of the harbor can be seen, with now 
 and then a small steamer ploughing its way 
 up or down the river. And, sometimes 1 , of a sum 
 mer afternoon the strange, weird sea-turn, lift 
 ing its veil of mist over the entrance of the 
 harbor, comes rolling in, golden or rosy in the 
 declining sun, enveloping the river and the city 
 as if by enchantment till it seems a scene in 
 fairy land, or the illusive glory of a dream. 
 
 The house looked roomy enough to accommo 
 date a family even larger than the Marstons. 
 Dormer windows from its roof overlooked the 
 second story. These windows lighted the garret, 
 a real garret, with bare timbers and cross-beams 
 for swings and leaps and all manner of childish 
 exploits, as Mrs. Marston saw, with a spasm of 
 dread, when she went over the place with her 
 husband. The rest of the house, with its airy 
 chambers, wide halls, and sunny library and 
 parlor, was entirely to her mind; while the out 
 buildings, barn, carriage-house, and hennery 
 were the admiration of her husband and Harold. 
 And Harold, feeble as he was, had an eye to the 
 neighborhood. The little lake, or pond, with its 
 leaning willows, and rustic seat in their shade, 
 a few rods down the road, looked inviting; he 
 meant to spend a good many hours there when
 
 52 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 he was a little better. The old farm-house near 
 by, its long, sloping roof spangled with orange 
 and gray mosses; its dilapidated summer-house, 
 also covered with lichens ; its well with swinging 
 bucket, and its beehives under the gnarled lime- 
 trees, and the soldierly old Lombardy poplars, 
 attracted his attention and aroused much inter 
 est. Those who lived there must have a history, 
 he thought, and he should enjoy their acquaint 
 ance. He saw, too, with delight, farther down 
 near the meadows, white billows of bloom, sway 
 ing in the breeze ; and, farther yet, a pink flush, 
 as of an imprisoned sunset among the shrubs of 
 the swamp, the shad-bush and the swamp-pink, 
 surely! And, oh! what other riches of wild 
 growth, what other beauties, should he discover, 
 when he was able to ramble down the lanes and 
 over the fields? 
 
 He mused of all these things as he lay resting 
 the day before the moving ; greedily inhaling the 
 fragrance of the lily of the valley given him by 
 Mrs. Dinsmore. "Wild, uncultivated, unciv 
 ilized, as they once were, what may I not do; 
 what may I not develop of the wild plants in this 
 region?" he said to himself. "What delightful 
 occupation it will be for me?" 
 
 Moving day broke bright and clear. Most of 
 the Marston family were astir by sunrise and 
 alert for action, and the moving was accom-
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 53 
 
 plished successfully. Harold had had a comfort 
 able night and felt better than for some days; 
 he enjoyed the ride, pointing out to his grand 
 mother the most interesting objects along the 
 road and when they reached the farm declared 
 that he wasn't a bit tired. 
 
 Nevertheless Darley and Brown insisted that 
 he should lie down. Darley had set an old 
 lounge near a window in the room he was to 
 occupy, and there he reclined in placid content, 
 gazing at the landscape and ruminating on pros 
 pective possibilities most of the day. 
 
 Grandmother Marston holding Maud by the 
 hand, trotted from room to room till she felt ac 
 quainted with the ins and outs of the house, and 
 then Lottie established her at Harold's side. He 
 assured her that he had no pain, and his head 
 was all right. But when he coughed she listened 
 with tears in her eyes, she could not rid her 
 self of the dismal forebodings that had given her 
 great disquiet during the past month. 
 
 Polly and Tad were in high spirits. Their 
 strange questions and comical remarks, and 
 their manoeuvres with Duncan, kept Brown in a 
 delightfully confused condition of annoyance and 
 amusement all the way ; he was thankful to land 
 them all there without accident to life and limb. 
 The instant their feet touched ground they flew, 
 rather than walked, from hall to garret, and
 
 54 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 thence to the cellar, and over the out-buildings, 
 with innumerable " Ohs ! " and " Ahs ! " It was 
 fortunate that wagons were so heavily laden 
 that they had accomplished their survey and 
 scrutiny, and were ready to settle themselves 
 to some little composure in the care of Maud, for 
 Lottie then had her hands and head full of what 
 she considered more important work. 
 
 By this time Polly bethought herself of the 
 spruce pillow. As she saw the furniture wagons 
 coming up the driveway, she and Maud and Tad 
 (he with the puppy in his arms) standing at 
 the barn-door, where they had finished their in 
 vestigations, gave an uproarious shout. " Got 
 the desk?" she continued. "Got the shed- 
 desk? " running towards the wagoner. 
 
 " Look out there ! " cried Robert from his 
 perch on the top of a bureau (he and Roland 
 had been glad to avail themselves of a ride be 
 fore they had walked half the distance) " Polly- 
 wog! what are you about, right under the hor 
 ses' feet?" 
 
 Polly started nervously at the unexpected 
 voice and at the sudden sense of her danger, and 
 fell directly before a wheel of the wagon. 
 
 There was a general scream and a rush from 
 both wagoners, Roland on the second wagon; 
 and Bert and Tad. Among them all she was 
 rescued with only the loss of half her dress-skirt.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 55 
 
 Trembling and confused, as the wagoner set her 
 on her feet she laid a hand on the moving wheel. 
 There was another scream. Pale as ashes, 
 scarcely comprehending what she had done, the 
 poor girl burst into tears and cried heartily, all 
 three brothers pulling at her dress, and scolding 
 and hugging her at the same time. 
 
 Maud and the puppy, a few feet distant now 
 lifted up their voices ; Lottie, with her sympathy 
 in broken English, added to the medley of 
 sounds as she came to see what had happened. 
 Finding that nothing serious had caused the 
 outcry, Lottie soon soothed Polly and led her 
 into the house ; the torn dress was made tidy and 
 Polly laughed over her misadventure. 
 
 Tad watched the removal of the goods till sat 
 isfied that the desk was not among them, and 
 then suggested getting the spruce. He had a 
 stout pocket-knife; armed with that and an old 
 basket. Polly and he set off to the grove. Rol 
 and and Robert, after disposing of their pos 
 sessions, and the empty wagons had returned 
 for another load, found enough to occupy them 
 selves going over the premises and talking with 
 Darley and Browne. Thus the day wore on. 
 
 Mr. Marston had made arrangements for leav 
 ing the office early. Darley had several errands 
 in town, then, calling at the house, he found 
 Mrs. Marston and Susan ready to be taken to
 
 56 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 the farm; by this time Mr. Marston could ac 
 company them. All the family were together 
 and impatient for dinner before Lottie had be 
 gun to think of it. 
 
 When they were seated at table Tad began to 
 tell with great gusto of Polly's mishap. 
 
 Observing that while he spoke he often put 
 his hand to his head, Mrs. Marston cast a glance 
 thither. " Why, Tad ! Thaddeus, my son ! what 
 ails your hair?" 
 
 " Nothing nothing, I guess. Oh, no only 
 yes " 
 
 He colored, stirred the hair hastily. 
 
 All eyes were now upon him, his mother scru 
 tinizing him narrowly. 
 
 " Hardly a proper topic of conversation at 
 this time," remarked his father. 
 
 " But how can I help it? " asked his mother. 
 " His hair is in an abominable condition." 
 
 " Carrots are sprouting this warm weather, I 
 guess," said Robert. 
 
 This allusion to the color of his hair always 
 vexed Tad. He pushed his chair back and was 
 about to rise from the table. 
 
 " Stay where you are, Thaddeus, and explain 
 yourself," said his father. 
 
 Poor Taddie was so agitated he could not com 
 mand his voice. He stammered so painfully 
 with "I I" and "she, she," that Mrs. Mar-
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 57 
 
 ston seeing how interested Polly seemed, said, 
 " Pollywog, you know something ; tell us." 
 
 Then Polly told a rambling story about Annie 
 Nelson and Bertha Simpson and Will Leonard 
 begging yesterday for a lock of Tad's hair be 
 cause she was going to live at Pleasant Hill, and 
 of borrowing Miss Martin's scissors to cut it, 
 " And they were so dull and the hair so short, 
 Annie Nelson cut a good deal that had to be 
 thrown away." 
 
 Harold, who had begged to be at the table 
 (though he had no appetite) looked pitifully on 
 Tad's cropped head. Polly seemed indifferent. 
 All the others laughed, even grandmother, be 
 hind her napkin. 
 
 This roused Polly; "You have to, when you 
 go away; for them to remember you by." 
 
 " And if you like anybody you want them to 
 remember you," said Tad, recovering self-pos 
 session. "And if you like your friends you 
 want them to have a nice lock, if you do have 
 to cut a lot that has to be thrown away," added 
 Polly. 
 
 " Had to throw away about enough to make a 
 wig, I suppose," said Tom, with difficulty con 
 trolling his risibles, as Tad tried in vain to 
 cover his bald (spots with a few thin locks. 
 Edith said if the hair didn't hurry up, there'd
 
 58 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 be another expense, before next winter, surely; 
 his father would have to buy him a toupee. 
 
 " Taddie," said his mother, " I wonder I 
 hadn't noticed it before. I'm surprised." 
 
 " Polly brushed it, and fixed it as nice as she 
 could," he returned. 
 
 " I am glad she did. She shall fix it till you 
 can attend to it yourself, and no one shall laugh 
 or scold you any more about it." 
 
 But Taddie's baldness in consequence of love 
 locks to the girls at school was a standing joke 
 in the family for some years. 
 
 After dinner Mr. Marston took two armchairs 
 to the verandah and bade his wife leave every 
 thing and sit there awhile with himself to take a 
 little ease and enjoy the sunset, now that the 
 most fatiguing part of the moving was over. 
 Darley and Browne were putting down matting 
 and putting up beds. The children were choos 
 ing and arranging furnishings for their rooms, 
 grandmother and Harold holding a desultory 
 talk about things in general. 
 
 An air of content and calm satisfaction per 
 vaded the house, to which the happy voices and 
 brisk footsteps, together with the hammering 
 and trundling upstairs, were as a jubilant 
 chorus. Out of doors, in the declining sun, the 
 gold and crimson of the western sky were fast 
 fading into the pale green and purple of the twi-
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 59 
 
 light. A sparrow in the woodbine over the side 
 porch twittered occasionally, and a lonely robin 
 in the larch-tree near the dining-room window 
 trilled his evening song. All else was silence 
 and rest and peace. 
 
 Suddenly there came a change. Susan and 
 Lottie ran to the verandah, much excited; Maud 
 was nowhere to be found. 
 
 "Not in bed? Not to be found?" cried Mrs. 
 Marston, affrighted. "Why, Susan, what do 
 you mean?" 
 
 " Where have you looked? " said Mr. Marston, 
 angrily. 
 
 Susan, in a wild tremor, said hurriedly that 
 when Lottie came with directions about the 
 child's supper she left her in the hall playing 
 with Dun, while she went to the pantry for milk. 
 When she had procured the milk and bread 
 Maud was not in the hall, and she supposed the 
 child had gone with Duncan to Polly, or some 
 other of the children, or where the men were put 
 ting down carpets. After waiting awhile, ex 
 pecting some of the other children would bring 
 her down, she came to the verandah. 
 
 " Expecting? " said Mrs. Marston. " When 
 you saw she wasn't there, why didn't you go im 
 mediately where you supposed she was? " 
 
 The girl hung her head in silence.
 
 60 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " Go on, let us hear the worst as quickly as 
 possible," said Mr. Marston. 
 
 " That is all," she sobbed. 
 
 " We go vairy quick, t'rough t'e whole house, 
 t'e chambers, 'n' t'e rooms, t'e cellair, too, no 
 baby t'ere," Lottie added, shaking her head dole 
 fully. 
 
 " And we strangers in a strange house, and a 
 strange neighborhood! " exclaimed Mrs. Mar 
 ston, with a groan. 
 
 And " while you were expecting, she may 
 have been carried to the ends of the earth," fairly 
 screamed Mr. Marston, beside himself with rage 
 and grief. 
 
 " Oh, that closed-up balcony," whispered Su 
 san, (She had heard of the mysterious doings 
 there. ) 
 
 " O, God help us ! " cried Mr. Marston. 
 " There's not a moment to lose, she can't have 
 gotten into the balcony, surely." 
 
 (Susan was now sobbing), " Send Darley and 
 Browne to search the neighborhood. I'll throw 
 a saddle on old Prince and see what I can do," 
 and he rushed to the door. 
 
 Mrs. Marston, pale as death, asked Susan if 
 she had looked out-doors, had been to the barn. 
 She nodded affirmatively, so while he was talk 
 ing to the men, he gave directions for a wider 
 search.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 61 
 
 Lottie had started off to find the boys, after 
 the two men came clattering down stairs. Tad 
 tried to tell the men to go to the pines, because 
 she had been there with him and Polly to get 
 spruce. 
 
 The men looked at each other and then at Mrs. 
 Marston. 
 
 " Go, go there," she said. " Go with them, 
 Taddie. Oh ! my darling baby ! " 
 
 Edith and Polly put their arms around their 
 mother ; and still she cried, " She's lost, poor 
 dear ! We shall never see her again ; wandering 
 off to the woods and the swamps, because no 
 body cared for her." 
 
 Grandmother alarmed at the commotion, met 
 them in the hall. " Calm yourself, Mary," she 
 whispered. " Remember Harold. Excitement 
 may be his death The child will soon be found, 
 I've no doubt." 
 
 Mrs. Marston allowed her to lead her where 
 Harold was, and was calm before they reached 
 him. He lay on the lounge in the parlor suffer 
 ing with headache. He looked up inquiringly. 
 
 Grandmother said slowly, " Maud has slipped 
 out somewhere, and your mother is so tired she 
 is getting nervous about the child. Edith, sup 
 pose you go over the house; perhaps Susan and 
 Lottie were too hasty in their search." 
 
 Edith and Polly did as she suggested, while
 
 62 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 Tom and the two younger boys were running in 
 and out of all the out-buildings. It was getting 
 dark, was quite dark before they all met in the 
 hall, with no tidings of the lost one. 
 
 " Get lanterns, Darley, and search the pines 
 again," said Mrs. Marston ; " she may have 
 fallen asleep there." 
 
 They went, were gone a long time, but to no 
 avail. 
 
 Mr. Marston came home nearly distracted. 
 He had seen nothing, but had been told by a 
 man on the road that about half an hour pre 
 vious he had seen a carriage driven rapidly, in 
 which were two or three persons covered with 
 carriage robes, and had heard a child's voice, as 
 if expostulating, when they turned off down a 
 lane. He felt almost certain that the child was 
 Maud, and it required all grandmother's tact 
 and authority to keep him from telling Harold 
 (who was now becoming anxious) all that he 
 feared. 
 
 At last, as if by a sudden inspiration, grand 
 mother asked Edith and Pauline if they had 
 searched the garret, 
 
 No, they had not ; " The door at the foot of 
 the garret stairs was shut, of course she wasn't 
 up there, for she couldn't have shut it behind 
 her." 
 
 Susan and Lottie, who had looked into all the
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 63 
 
 closets on the first floor, were passing the par 
 lor when Edith said this. 
 
 " Oh ! I shut that door when we went through 
 the chamber elntry," said Susan. " I had struck 
 my head against it and thought^ it was danger 
 ous to be half open." 
 
 Mr. Marston started eagerly. " Perhaps she 
 wandered up there; go right up. Stay! I'll 
 go, myself." 
 
 "And fallen asleep, poor little dear," said 
 grandmother. 
 
 " Frightened to death, up there in the dark," 
 said Mrs. Marston, shuddering. 
 
 Nevertheless, she followed her husband, tak 
 ing a lamp from the hall table, and they went up 
 quietly. All the others stood around in the hall, 
 Darley and Browne in the rear. As they thus 
 waited after so much rapid and earnest talk, 
 the silence was as solemn as a prayer. A cry 
 from Mr. Marston broke it. His words could 
 not be distinguished, but his tones were enough. 
 
 Taddie began a " Hurrah ! " grandmother laid 
 a finger on his lips and stopped it, everybody 
 understood what she meant. Most of them 
 sobbed, though all smiled. The suspense ended, 
 they hardly knew whether to laugh or cry. 
 Harold leaned back on the lounge and closed his 
 eyes. Two tears rolled down his thin, pale 
 cheeks'. All the others stood still in the hall
 
 64 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 when Mr. Marston and his wife came down. Mr. 
 Marston had Maud in his arms, fast asleep, her 
 pretty brown curls in disorder and nearly hid 
 ing her rosy face; her best-beloved doll, Dinah, 
 hugged tight, her little fingers grasping the 
 doll's black clumsiness, a dilapidated toy kitten 
 in her left hand. 
 
 " Here we are, all right ! " was Mr. Marston's 
 cheery salutation to his mother. Mrs. Marston 
 kissed the old lady effusively. " You dear grand 
 mother," she said, " the wisest head in the house. 
 To think she might have been there all night, 
 and days and days, perhaps, till she mourned 
 herself dead, for we should have had no occasion 
 to go there at present. * Take only rubbish to the 
 garret/ I told Darley." 
 
 " When he was taking rubbish up there," 
 returned Susan, " she saw that old moth-eaten 
 kitten and wanted it. I told her 'twas a nasty 
 thing. She begged for it a good while, and I saw 
 her watch Darley as he went up the stairs." 
 
 " Those steep, narrow stairs ; wasn't she smart 
 to climb them?" remarked Mrs. Marston. 
 
 " Poor child ! if she had aroused in the night 
 she might have fallen down stairs and broken 
 her neck," said grandmother; " that will of hers 
 leads her into a great deal of danger." 
 
 "Maud stirred, whispered in her sleep, and 
 clutched the kitten more tightly.
 
 Mr. Marston bad Maud in his arms, fast asleep.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 65 
 
 " What did she say? " whispered Polly. 
 
 Her father shook his head. "We'll not dis 
 turb her," he replied. 
 
 " Take her right to bed, Susan," said her 
 mother. 
 
 " I thank you heartily, Darley," said Mr. Mar- 
 ston. " And you too, Browne. Come, boys and 
 girls, it has been a tiresome day for us all." 
 
 " The Lord be praised for all our mercies," 
 ejaculated grandmother, "and may He make 
 us more worthy of our blessings." 
 
 " Amen," was her isxm's solemn response. Dar 
 ley moved towards the door and Browne fol 
 lowed him. 
 
 " Stop a minute," said Mrs. Marston. " I 
 want to know you both, and to know your fam 
 ilies too;" and she extended a hand to each; 
 " I shall be glad to be of use to any of them, as 
 well as to yourselves." 
 
 The two men, somewhat abashed, muttered 
 something inaudible as they grasped her slender 
 fingers. Mrs. Marston must have understood 
 what they said for she replied, " O yes ! Good 
 night, good night! God bless you both," as they 
 turned again to the door, Darley dashing the 
 back of his hand across his eyes, and Browne 
 drawing a red coton handkerchief from his neck 
 to his shaggy eyebrows. 
 
 " Now, Philip, we must lead grandmother to
 
 66 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 her room. Children we'll call the day closed. 
 Good night, good night, all," she added. 
 
 " I must scribble a few lines to Maria ; she 
 wrote anxiously last week, you know, about Har 
 old," he returned. 
 
 " Just tell her where we are and that he is 
 gaining." 
 
 " I wonder what she will think when she sees 
 the Pippoton postmark, and finds we are in this 
 dreadful house," joined her husband with a sar 
 castic smile. 
 
 "And she so well-acquainted with Doctor 
 Hamilton." 
 
 " Yes. I believe I've not told you what Dr. 
 Bought on said when he handed me the deed. 
 No? " Well, that I had taken a great burden off 
 his shoulders; that the Squire, three years ago, 
 begged him to contradict the ugly istories about 
 the balcony and the lights and noises there, and 
 to try to get a family of good common sense 
 (like ours) to live there. And that we should 
 be a blessing to Pippoton." 
 
 " Flattering, wasn't he? " said Mrs. Marston. 
 
 " Not a bit of it ! " responded her husband. 
 " He meant every word he said, he's told me 
 since ; and it's for us to retrieve the good name 
 of Pleasant Hill. We'll try for it, any way, and 
 crush out those ridiculous falsities." 
 
 Mrs. Nelson was so anxious to know how Har-
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 67 
 
 old bore the moving that, at sunset, she ordered 
 Simon to harness the horse and drive her to 
 Pleasant Hill, and now, just as Mrs. Marston 
 was ready to retire for the night, she rushed 
 up the terrace in her usual impetuous manner, 
 and with a hearty grasp of Mrs. Marston's hand, 
 began to ask so many questions, that that lady 
 in her weary, almost distracted condition, could 
 only say, " We are all right now, and happy to be 
 here." 
 
 " But it is a sacrifice, I can see it is a sacri 
 fice," said Mrs. Nelson, scanning the pale, tired 
 features. 
 
 " It isn't, it shall not be a sacrifice," she re 
 turned. " Whatever Harold is to meet, we 
 shan't call it a disappointment. Perhaps, even 
 if his health improves here, he may not resume 
 his studies. I have pondered the question well, 
 and I have made up my mind that he must do 
 the same soon, and endeavor to find out what 
 is to be his life work, his vocation." 
 
 " And you will be satisfied to give up the col 
 lege course and the prestige which such an edu 
 cation would give? Do you realize all that? " 
 was the response. 
 
 " We will see, we will see," said Mrs. Marston. 
 " I believe we are divinely led, and our leader 
 is Omniscient." 
 
 " True, true," said Mrs. Nelson hurriedly.
 
 68 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " Whatever Harold, or any of my boys, any 
 of my children, " went on Mrs. Marston, " are 
 called to do, or to bear, they will have my en 
 couragement, assistance, if need be." 
 
 " How courageous you are ! " exclaimed Mrs. 
 Nelson, as she answered Simon's call at the 
 door. 
 
 " Courage is heart work, and I give my whole 
 heart to it," was Mrs. Marston's response.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 69 
 
 CHAPTER v. 
 
 FIRST IMPRESSIONS. 
 
 SUNDAY had been a delightful day of rest for 
 Mr. Marston. In spite of the rain he had Prince 
 harnessed, and in the buggy with the boys 
 crowding round him he didn't mind the weather ; 
 enjoyed the service, and felt refreshed by the 
 sermon. He didn't complain, but the anxiety 
 and care of his family, added to the perplex 
 ities of business during the past two months had 
 worn upon him. His mother and his wife saw, 
 with great concern, that he was getting thin 
 and pale, the lines on his face deepening, and sil 
 ver threads gathering in his thick, brown hair. 
 
 On Monday the rain still fell, but business and 
 school must move on ; Tom, with his father, was 
 driven by Darley to Hillsford ; Roland and Rob 
 ert to the Pippoton school, and they were glad 
 to go. The next day, Polly and Tad, in water 
 proof and rubbers, followed them. What else 
 could they do? They had exhausted all their
 
 70 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 sources of amusement; pigs, and cows, and 
 chickens, even Dunnie, had ceased to be novel 
 ties. Darley would not allow them to go near 
 Charlie, the cart-horse; and Prince, in his lei 
 sure hours could not be disturbed; so the barn 
 was without charm. The garden and orchard 
 looked dreary, the grove worse. They were for 
 bidden to go to the kitchen, Lottie was too 
 busy, Susan too cross, to do anything for their 
 entertainment. It was martyrdom to keep still 
 in the house all the time, as they felt they must, 
 because of grandmother and Harold; they were 
 delighted to look up their books and make them 
 selves ready for school. 
 
 Polly was still thoughtful of her personal ap 
 pearance. She brushed her curls till they shone 
 and tied the blue ribon on the top of her head 
 in the neatest of bows. Now, she was always to 
 wear a white collar; this, too, had its blue bow. 
 Her dress of gray flannel was tidiness itself. 
 Take her all in all she was a very attractive- 
 looking little body. 
 
 And she took great pains in brushing Taddie's 
 hair over his bald spots, " Because I want you 
 to look nice, as well as myself," she told him. 
 " And you know mama sometimes says first im 
 pressions ought to be agreeable. The scholars, 
 and the teacher, too, will have first impressions 
 of us when they see us to-day. Taddie, dear,"
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 71 
 
 she continued, after tightening the bow and 
 smoothing the ends of his necktie, " Please, don't 
 call me Pollywog before the scholars and the 
 teachers. I meant to ask Pollie and Bert not 
 to; but I guess they won't be in our room. If 
 they are, if they hear me give my name, Pauline 
 Maria, they'll understand, I suppose. And 
 you'd better be sure to have your name right 
 too. If you start it right, Thaddeus Thorndike, 
 in the beginning, there'll be no trouble, I guess, 
 about keeping it so." 
 
 "Huh! I'd rather be Tad than Thaddeus 
 Thorndike, so there, now! Course, you don't 
 want the fellows bothering with such a great 
 name every time they speak to you," and Taddy 
 sniffed and hemmed with scorn and indignation. 
 
 " Oh, well, if you don't like it, that's another 
 thing. It's more respectable, though." 
 
 " You see here, Polly," returned Tad, feeling 
 as if he had been accused of a fault, " I'm re 
 spectful, I'll leave it to mama, if I'm not, when 
 we go home. I always say ' yes, sir,' and ' yes, 
 ma'am/ and * please ' and * thank you,' when 
 I ought ; and I try not to interrupt when anyone 
 is speaking; and make the best bow I can to 
 grown-up folks." 
 
 " You make a mistake in the word, children 
 often do before they learn definitions, then they 
 find out about different words. When you are
 
 72 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 as old as I am and learn definitions you'll know 
 how to choose your words." 
 
 " Now you just stop, Polly wog Marston. You 
 needn't feel so smart about your old definitions. 
 I don't believe you can bind China I can." 
 
 "Bound, not bind, Taddie dear," returned 
 Polly, who wasn't proficient in geography yet 
 wasn't willing Tad should have a complete vic 
 tory. "And I said respectable, not respectful. 
 Grandma, says we are respectable when we re 
 spect ourselves; if you don't respect yourself you 
 can't expect others to treat you respectable. I 
 ought to have -said respectfully. And I want to 
 be treated respectfully, don't you?" 
 
 Tad was so confused by Polly's repetition of 
 so many big words, he only said, " It's awful 
 silly to care what people call your name if you 
 are only pleasant and kind." 
 
 Polly was ready with an answer in yet more 
 formidable words from her definitions, but the 
 answer was put to flight by Bert's command, in 
 no very agreeable tones, " to stop that loud talk, 
 and hurry up or they wouldn't get in before the 
 doors were closed, and school rules were very 
 strict here." 
 
 " If school rules are strict," Polly said to her 
 self, "she shouldn't care, for she liked the 
 teacher at her first glance of those bright, brown
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 73 
 
 eyes and at the smile that dimpled her pink 
 cheeks." 
 
 Miss Leonard had such winning ways that the 
 children were quickly drawn to her; she called 
 them by their proper names, and announced 
 them to the rest of her pupils. At recess they 
 began to make acquaintance and Polly antici 
 pated many good times, which, to her sorrow, 
 were not soon to be realized. 
 
 Rain on the school-house steps had made them 
 slippery, and Polly, hurrying out at the noon 
 intermission, fell to the cobblestone pavement 
 of the entrance. She was stunned by the blow 
 and made not a sound; but all the school 
 flocked around screaming loudly. Miss Leonard, 
 alarmed by the uproar, rushed out and took the 
 child in her arms. She was in a dead faint 
 with the blood streaming from her nose and 
 mouth. Tad was so frightened his teeth chat 
 tered and his knees shook. He thought she waa 
 dead, but he could neither cry nor speak. 
 
 Another teacher came down, Robert and Rol 
 and with him. They brought water. Miss Leon 
 ard bathed her face and tried to make her speak, 
 but she was insensible. A farmer in his cart 
 was coming up the road, and Mr. Parks, the 
 teacher beckoned to him, and they placed Polly 
 in it on a cushion from the recitation room. 
 Then the two teachers and her three brothers
 
 74 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 got in and the man drove them gently, but as 
 fast as he could, to Pleasant Hill. 
 
 When they reached there the blood was still 
 flowing, though not so fast. Darley saw them 
 coming, ran in and told Lottie, and they two 
 took her in their arms and laid her on the 
 lounge in the dining-room before Mrs. Marston 
 knew anyone had come in. Roland ran from 
 room to room till he had found her. She was in 
 grandmother's room. " Tell them to bring her 
 right up here," said grandmother; "Don't go 
 down, Mary better not." 
 
 While they were bringing her upstairs, Polly 
 opened her eyes and said something indistinctly. 
 By the time they reached grandmother's room 
 she had roused enough to say " O mama, mama." 
 They laid her on grandmother's bed ; she put her 
 hand to her head, and fainted again. Mrs. Mar 
 ston sent Darley immediately for Dr. Houghton, 
 who soon came. Polly was able to tell him all 
 about the accident when he arrived. 
 
 " Those cobble-stones ! " he said angrily. " It's 
 no more than I expected. When I heard of that 
 pavement I told one of the committee they were 
 crazy. What if there was mud there on rainy 
 days! Better that than broken limbs Stupid 
 dolts!" 
 
 Having spent his anger he examined the
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 75 
 
 child's head and face very tenderly and quietly 
 stopped the bleeding. 
 
 " The brunt of the blow was on the face. I'm 
 glad of that. She'll be all right before long, if 
 she is patient." 
 
 Mrs. Marston said she could assure him of 
 Polly's patience, grandmother added that she'd 
 help her to be patient. 
 
 " That's favorable. Now, then, we'll have 
 some splints to make it snug and straight and 
 comfortable." He pointed to Polly's nose with 
 a significant look toward her mother. " And as 
 quickly as possible, before it swells. Now, for 
 once in my life, I'm lucky, for here they are in 
 my valise." 
 
 Polly knew what splints were, hadn't she 
 found out in her definitions? and why they were 
 used? At that moment definitions didn't seem 
 a desirable study, she almost wished she knew 
 nothing about them. 
 
 " It's broken, that's what the splints are for," 
 she said to herself. " I suppose it will always 
 be crooked, like Richard Miller's leg that he 
 broke." 
 
 Her mother bathed the nose, and then the 
 rest of her face, carefully. She felt very miser 
 able, too miserable to cry, and though the doc 
 tor was very tender in arranging the splints, 
 she had a good deal of pain. Then her head be-
 
 76 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 gan to ache dreadfully, and her eyes felt 
 strangely. Her mother gave her medicine, spoke 
 very low about it, as if she felt she was very 
 sick, and kissed her two or three times on her 
 forehead. The next thing she knew it was very 
 dark, and her father's voice was speaking very 
 pitifully, and calling her his brave, patient girl, 
 and then she felt his kiss on her forehead just 
 where her mother's was. She must have been 
 asleep a long time, she thought; but was awake 
 now though she couldn't open her eyes; and her 
 nose and all her face felt queerly. And Tad was 
 there. She heard him whisper, " Will she al 
 ways be blind? Can't she never open them 
 again? " 
 
 And then she heard him sob, and his father 
 hush him and try to soothe him. 
 
 She made a great effort to speak. How 
 strangely her voice sounded! But they knew 
 she said " Papa." 
 
 And then her father took both her hands in 
 his and pressed them softly; and said she must 
 try to sleep all she could, so as to get better 
 fast. 
 
 She wanted to ask if she was always going to 
 be blind; but she only asked if she must keep 
 her eyes shut. 
 
 And then he said her face was swollen so that
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 77 
 
 the eyes had to shut, but he hoped they would 
 be all right to-morrow. 
 
 Then her mother fed her with gruel and after 
 wards gave her medicine. She felt drowsy. Her 
 mother said she had better not try to talk, if 
 she was comfortable to squeeze her hand. And 
 that was the last she knew till she heard the 
 clock strike six, and one of her eyes opened a 
 little, and she saw she was in a bed, in her grand 
 mother's room, her mother sitting in a chair 
 near. 
 
 Her mother came toward the bed, and then 
 went to the door and called "Taddie!" 
 
 Tad came in hurriedly, and began to cry. She 
 heard him. 
 
 " Come here, Taddie ; I can see you with one 
 eye," she said in a queer, weak voice. 
 
 He went close to the bed, still crying softly. 
 
 " O Polly dear," he said. " I'm awfully sorry. 
 And I wish I hadn't been so cross yesterday 
 about names and definitions." His tears came 
 so fast he couldn't say another word. 
 
 " That wasn't anything," she answered. 
 "Don't feel bad about that." 
 
 " I can't help feeling bad about it." A big 
 sob choked utterance, then he went on. " I I 
 won't ever talk so again, if you'll forgive me and 
 forget it."
 
 78 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 "Why, Taddie, I had forgotten it, and it 
 didn't need to be forgiven," said Polly. 
 
 " That will do," said 'their mother. " She 
 mustn't talk any more now." 
 
 He went out slowly, and burst into a loud 
 wail as soon as he was out of Polly's hearing. 
 His father came to him. " Is she always going 
 to look like that?" he sobbed. 
 
 " I hope not, I think not, my dear boy. But 
 I am thankful her life is spared. We won't 
 mind looks if we can have our merry little Polly 
 well again." 
 
 Tad was so shocked by Polly's appearance it 
 was thought best to refuse all company to grand 
 mother Marston's room for the present. It was 
 more than a week after the accident before 
 Edith and Tom were allowed to go there. She 
 was sitting in her grandmother's old-fashioned 
 easy-chair then, and said she was nicely all but 
 her nose. " It feels funny, and I suppose it 
 looks so. But Dr. Houghton said yesterday, 
 when he fixed the splints 'again, it was doing 
 well," she said. " With the bandage and all, 
 I'm 'Something like an Egyptian mummy, I 
 guess." 
 
 She smiled a queer, distorted smile that made 
 Edith groan. 
 
 " Why don't you laugh? I believe I should if
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 79 
 
 I coud see myself. You may, Tom. I shouldn't 
 mind." 
 
 "You're a brick, Polly," said Tom, "spunky 
 enough for the whole family. No matter how 
 you look, you're just as splendid, and jolly as 
 ever ! " 
 
 " Grandma thinks I may want to see how com 
 ical my nose is going to be, and she don't want 
 me to yet, so she's covered the looking-glass with 
 her blue shawl." She laughed and pointed to 
 ward it. "But it's going to be just as good as 
 ever, and Dr. Houghton says I ought to be 
 thankful for that." 
 
 Then she wanted to know what had been go 
 ing on in the family, her mother told her every 
 day about Harold, his cough was easier, his ap 
 petite better, and he said he felt stronger. 
 
 " Dear Oldie ! I'm so glad. He's been sick so 
 long," she said, with a little sigh, "and its 
 dreadfully tiresome to be sick. I used to say 
 I'd like to have the measles, or something be 
 cause everybody is so kind in sickness, and Kol- 
 lie and Robert when they were getting well from 
 measles had such nice things to eat. But I 
 didn't think what queer feelings, and aches, you 
 must have. I hope I shan't, ever, be sick again." 
 
 " I hope not also," said grandmother. " Now 
 you mustn't say another word. Let them tell 
 you something."
 
 80 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 So Edith gave a detailed account of matters. 
 Maud was beginning to learn to read, could 
 point out A and O and E wherever she saw 
 them. Taddie was getting wild flowers, violets 
 and hepaticas for Harold every day, and had 
 set out a wild iris root in the garden, because 
 Harold meant sometime to cultivate wild 
 flowers. Mr. Sterling, the minister, and his 
 daughter, a very nice young lady, had called to 
 ask about the accident. And the apple trees 
 were blooming. Best of all, Mrs. Sinclair, and 
 her sister, Miss Maria Mordaunt, had called 
 twice, and talked about their school acquaint 
 ance with aunt Maria. They lived in the old 
 gray house with the funny windows and long, 
 sloping roof. Miss Leonard and Mr. Park had 
 dropped in on their way to school every morn 
 ing, and Miss Mordaunt had brought in some of 
 her pictures for Harold to look at. She was an 
 artist and would teach Harold to paint when 
 he was well enough. 
 
 " I wonder if she would teach me," said Polly. 
 
 " Why ! you are going to have music lessons. 
 I shall want you to begin as soon as Harold can 
 bear the noise of practicing." 
 
 " I know it, I know it, but oh, I should like 
 to be an artist ! " 
 
 "Now, Polly, my dear!" said her grand 
 mother very tenderly, " not another word !
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 81 
 
 Edith has given you enough to think about for 
 two or three days, and she and Thomas must 
 prepare for school." 
 
 Two long weeks more Polly had to remain in 
 her grandmother's room, but every morning one 
 or another of her brothers came to tell her of 
 school matters. Tad was especially pleased to 
 tell what Miss Leonard was teaching the boys 
 about the beautiful things around us in out-door 
 life that are apt to be overlooked. She had a 
 microscope, and as he was particularly inter 
 ested in bugs ( " insects," he had learned to call 
 them) she lent it to him, that he might let 
 Polly see how wonderful and how beautiful they 
 are. They were fortunate that day, for they 
 saw a caterpillar crawling on the window, and 
 grandma allowed Tad to climb up and bring it 
 in and examine it under the microscope; and 
 then she placed it in a litte box, and he took 
 it to Miss Leonard; and afterwards Miss Leon 
 ard wrote a nice note to Polly, all about the 
 caterpillar, so that Polly began to think she 
 would drop definitions when she returned to 
 school and study about insects. 
 
 At last Dr. Houghton pronounced Polly's nose 
 well, she had consent to occupy her own room 
 and to go about the house. 
 
 " One thing more, dear," said grandmother 
 Mars-ton, taking the shawl from the looking
 
 82 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 glass. She spoke very tenderly and her voice 
 trembled. Passing an arm around the child 
 she led her forward. One glance at the reflec 
 tion in the glass, and then a fearful " Oh ! " a 
 groan that pierced the grandmother's heart, and 
 poor Polly hid her face in the good old lady's 
 bosom. Sobs and groans followed. 
 
 Mrs. Marston had met Dr. Houghton and she 
 hastened up immediately. " Oh, my darling, 
 my darling ! " she exclaimed, taking her to her 
 lap and covering her curls with kisses she 
 couldn't reach her face for Polly hid it with her 
 hands. 
 
 Grandmother Marston looked on in agony, her 
 aged face haggard with the grief she felt; Mrs. 
 Marston, no less distressed, was pale and tremb 
 ling with emotion. Nothing was said for some 
 minutes. Polly was the first to speak. " O 
 mama, mama! I didn't think it could be so bad 
 so ugly. I shall never want anybody to see 
 me again." A frantic sob, and then, " How can 
 you and grandma love me? I wish I could go 
 away and hide, always, always." 
 
 " Why, Polly Maria ! " said her grandmother, 
 "do you think we have only loved your face? 
 No matter how plain or ugly you may think 
 your face looks 1 , dear, we believe you have a 
 beautiful soul, and that makes your face pre 
 cious and dear to us, and will always keep it so
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 83 
 
 for us. It is the Polly in the face, that nothing 
 can make disagreeable; and you will be just the 
 same to us as before the accident." 
 
 The sobs still continued, though less violent. 
 " Don't dear ! " said her mother. " You must 
 control your feelings, or perhaps inflammation 
 may set in." 
 
 "Then I should die shouldn't I? I 
 wish " 
 
 The tears gushed out afresh, she could not 
 speak. 
 
 " You naughty, naughty child ! " from grand 
 mother checked both speech and tears. " This, 
 after all our nice talks about what you are go 
 ing to do when grown up! You know I have 
 told you God has sent you into the world to 
 work for Him, to help Him in making other 
 people happy, and that in doing so you will 
 gain happiness yourself. By and by you will 
 understand why He sent you this accident." 
 
 Polly now wiped away her tears, and looked 
 in her mother's face with the sweet smile that 
 used to make her very beautiful. 
 
 " I'll try to think so, dear mama," she said, 
 " But do you suppose my cheek will be such a 
 funny color, like * rainbows run mad,' as Mrs. 
 Nelson said Carrie Hilton's plaid dress looked." 
 S'he laughed, but there was a wistful look in 
 her eyes.
 
 84 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " Oh, no," was the cheerful response. " That 
 is the effect of the bruise; your complexion will 
 be as clear as ever soon." 
 
 " My nose will be comical, always, won't it?" 
 
 " Perhaps not, as you grow the shape will 
 probably improve." 
 
 " Pauline," said grandmother Marston, rather 
 severely, for she was very sorry to have Polly so 
 much concerned about her looks, " think no 
 more about it. Remember it is the expression, 
 the kind and good thoughts behind the features, 
 that makes a face lovely." 
 
 It was a very happy group that Mr. Marston 
 and Tom saw, as they came up the carriage way, 
 that afternoon: Harold in his wheel-chair on 
 the verandah, Duncan asleep in his lap, his 
 mother and his wife, (Maud between them,) on 
 the parlor couch, Edith on a stool at Harold's 
 feet, Robert looking over the letters she was 
 embroidering. 
 
 " Most done, isn't it? " said Bert. " How nice 
 it looks, and how sweet; and the words are just 
 the thing: * Sleep, the kind angel, is with me,' 
 he sang uproariously. Say Edith, why can't 
 you make me one? " 
 
 Mr. Marston heard the singing; but when he 
 saw Polly in the hammock; with one bound he 
 was beside her, singing in response. " Thanks
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 85 
 
 for this blessing vouchsafed me," and covering 
 her face with kisses. 
 
 " Do have a little mercy on the child, Philip," 
 said grandmother. 
 
 " I will, I will," he returned gaily. " But I 
 am overjoyed." His strong hand was instantly 
 swinging the hammock, till Polly had to beg 
 him to stop, her head was so dizzy. Then he 
 took off his hat, wiped his brow and placed a 
 chair " where he could look at her, fan himself 
 with his hat and talk comfortably," he said. 
 Harold told of Bert and Koland drawing him in 
 his chair to the pine grove at noon, and of what 
 they found there, " a bumble bee's nest, a chip 
 munk's hole, and a rock that he thought had 
 veins of metal, silver, or tin." 
 
 " Very opportune, very opportune ; extremely 
 so," said their father. " I expect an addition to 
 the family soon, and shall need a quantity of 
 silver; and gold, too, I'm inclined to think, to 
 pay for all expenses, wish we could discover a 
 mine on the farm." 
 
 Everybody was alert to know if he were se 
 rious, and what the addition could be. 
 
 " I had a letter this morning," he went on 
 tto say, looking at grandma Mansiton, "from 
 Maria; afterward a telegram came within the 
 hour. She is quite ill, though not dangerously 
 so, I imagine, but she is in a good deal of trouble
 
 86 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 and wants Mary and me to come to her as soon 
 as possible. The letter says William is gone, 
 she doesn't know where. That base-ball busi 
 ness is at the bottom of the trouble. He has 
 been betting and laying out a great deal of 
 money, and 'has helped himself to the cash in 
 his employer's safe to pay his debts till, well, 
 finally, he has absconded. And there is his 
 mother left with Ruth, thirteen years old, you 
 know, and the baby, not a year yet, born after 
 Mr. Mordaunt died, you know. I have sent a 
 return telegram that we will start to-morrow. 
 I am delighted to be able to go feeling easy about 
 the family, the sick ones are so much better. 
 And we shall bring Maria and her children 
 home with us."
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 87 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE MOEDAUNTS. 
 
 When Maria Marston and Henry Mordaunt 
 married, most of their friends prophesied for 
 them a long and happy life together. They were 
 in excellent health, and nearly of the same age, 
 of similar tastes and dispositions, of good prin 
 ciples and correct standard of conduct. His 
 father had a comfortable property and a remu 
 nerative business. It was supposed that the chil 
 dren, Henry and his two sisters, would inherit 
 a very handsome amount. Maria had recently 
 come into possession of an estate that yielded 
 a good income, making her independent of her 
 husband's resources. Thus their future looked 
 bright, 
 
 It was fortunate that they had such provision 
 for self support. Before they had been married 
 a year Henry's father died, and it was found 
 that his estate was encumbered so by bad 
 debts, that the heirs would realize only a small
 
 88 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 sum. Henry, expecting a large legacy, had 
 loaned money to a friend to assist him in doubt 
 ful ventures. Mr. Mordaunt had furnished his 
 son with nominal employment for which he was 
 paid a small salary. Now that could no longer 
 be his. 
 
 In this state of affairs, it was some consola 
 tion to know that his wife's income would keep 
 her above want. She declared that they had no 
 occasion to worry while that lasted. 
 
 This state of things was of brief duration. 
 Within five years expenses rose beyond her in 
 come, in spite of close economy. Then the prin 
 cipal suffered encroachment, so all other occupa 
 tions being beyond him, Mr. Mordaunt took up 
 teaching. This soon became irksome ; and, imag 
 ining he had an ailment that required different 
 atmospheric conditions, he invested the remnant 
 of his wife's property in a small cattle ranch in 
 Colorado, and removed the family there, his 
 wife, a daughter of ten, and a son of twelve 
 years. Three years of alternate success and 
 failure followed; then, in an encounter with an 
 unruly steer, his career ended. A kind neighbor 
 effected the sale of the ranch, and Mrs. Mor 
 daunt went with her children to Denver where 
 she began housekeeping in a small way, some of 
 her relatives affording assistance occasionally. 
 Mr. Philip Marston, her brother, offering her a
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 89 
 
 home if she should decide to return to her native 
 place. But she was proud, and still hopeful of 
 better days. 
 
 " I am truly grateful to you, Philip," she 
 wrote in reply to this offer. " My son will soon 
 be old enough to be earning. With what I can 
 make at embroidery and the small sums my 
 relatives send me, we can get along; so I will 
 remain here awhile/' 
 
 After this came less sanguine letters, and then 
 request for more help, she was disabled for the 
 present from work, and had another claimant 
 for support. " He is a beautiful boy, the image 
 of his father. I have given him his father's 
 name, Henry. My eldest, William, is fond of 
 him and planning all sorts of delightful things 
 for his future." 
 
 " Just like his father, that William is, I sup 
 pose," said Mr. Philip Marston, "always plan 
 ning and scheming. But what came of it all? 
 Give me performance, good, steady work before 
 all the most beautiful plans." 
 
 " My son," said grandmother Marston, " it 
 seems to me that Henry Mordaunt never found 
 his right place in the world. He was one of 
 those unfortunates, who because of environment 
 or mismanagement, are never fully developed 
 here, and so miss their natural position."
 
 90 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " Too timid to try to find it, I should say," 
 rejoined her son, " and fickle as the wind." 
 
 " He was like a plant growing in the dark 
 without light and warmth, unable to put forth 
 its best qualities. Maria was poorly calculated, 
 as we have seen, to set him in the light, to stim 
 ulate him toward the attainment of better 
 growth." 
 
 "Well, perhaps you are right. I wonder if 
 anything less than an earthquake, or a tornado, 
 could have roused him to a sense of his needs, 
 and his delinquencies." 
 
 " I have sometimes thought that the sad end 
 of Henry's friend, Dr. Hamilton, had much to 
 do with his dull, inanimate way of accepting 
 life's possibilities, such "brilliant promises so 
 suddenly brought to naught, and the distressing 
 sequence to such a glowing youth ! " 
 
 " I've sometimes thought," said Mr. Marston, 
 " that Maria married him solely from pity and 
 sympathy for his crushing disappointment by 
 the doctor's death, and in such a tragic manner." 
 
 "Death? I have never felt that Richard 
 Hamilton is dead, or that he died in that terrible 
 explosion. And, as to Maria, I'm inclined to 
 think that she firmly believes that he will make 
 his appearance when he can bring money enough 
 to pay off his indebtedness to his father's es 
 tate," remarked grandmother Marston.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 91 
 
 The next letter spoke of Willie as nervous, im 
 patient of control, tired of his studies, dislik 
 ing school, leaving it and going into a retail dry- 
 goods store to learn the business. " He is a 
 great favorite with his employer and the clerks," 
 was the letter's conclusion. 
 
 A little later, came another letter. " Wil 
 liam's health requires some relaxation. A boy 
 of his age ought not to be mewed up within 
 doors all the time. He must have exercise differ 
 ent from the routine of business, and in the free 
 air, or he will break down: so he has joined a 
 base-ball club; it is splendid practice for him, 
 very healthful exercise, and he enjoys it im 
 mensely, two afternoons a week. It calls for 
 money, though, and not a little. But what is 
 that where his health is concerned? Fortu 
 nately, I can spare it, having lately obtained two 
 new customers for my needle-work; and Ruth 
 is as good and pretty as she can be and so handy 
 with the baby, that I have a great deal more 
 time for sewing. 
 
 Ten days later she wrote of William's mis 
 conduct and her illness. Ruth, at her mother's 
 dictation, had sent the telegram desiring Mr. 
 and Mrs. Marston to come to her. Little prepar 
 ation was needed for their start the next day at 
 noon. 
 
 Edith had proved so efficient a housekeeper
 
 92 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 that few directions were necessary to ensure the 
 usual regularity of procedure; indeed she was 
 so proud of the trust reposed in her that her 
 father had some fears of neglect for her school 
 studies and her music. 
 
 " You know, dear," said he, " how I depend 
 on music to refresh and enliven me, and to keep 
 us all in good spirits. I can't allow any fall 
 ing off in that." 
 
 He also gave suggestions as to employment to 
 the other children. Harold, he very earnestly 
 charged not to overexert himself in the pleasure 
 he felt in increasing health. 
 
 Lottie, as usual, was quick to offer her serv 
 ices in any way. " T'e chil'en shall be no 
 trooble," she said. " An Taddie borrow me Dun, 
 so I take nice walks in t'e maydoo wiv lovely 
 flooars for Harold." 
 
 " How well you are looking, Mary," said the 
 old lady, as they came in. " It does my eyes 
 good to see you, and to know you start on the 
 journey in such good health." 
 
 " It was well that she took my advice and had 
 a rest after the moving," said Mr. Marston. 
 " She wouldn't have been in condition to under 
 take travelling as she then was, trying to attend 
 to so much of the housework with her whole per 
 son, body, soul and spirit, in misery, from sheer 
 weariness."
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 93 
 
 Mrs. Marston smiled as she said, " I believe 
 the rest has been beneficial. But Harold's gain 
 has relieved me of the anxiety and despondency 
 I felt." 
 
 " No doubt, no doubt," grandmother re 
 sponded. " But why do you ever despond when 
 you know the effect upon your health?" 
 
 " Ah ! that's a question not easily answered," 
 said Mr. Marston. 
 
 Maud had left her father's shoulder and was 
 now helping herself to the candy in her grand 
 mother's bureau drawer. A few words of cau 
 tion about allowing the children too much lib 
 erty, and the fear that they would deprive her 
 of her refreshing nap, then there was an affec 
 tionate leave-taking. 
 
 Darley took the travellers and their trunks 
 to the railroad station in Hillsford in time for 
 the evening train to New York. There they 
 were to meet Mr. Howard, Mr. Marston's part 
 ner, who had been commissioned to secure for 
 them berths in a sleeping car on the night train. 
 
 When the buggy had disappeared from view, 
 Edith opened the piano and began to play a 
 nocturne, a special favorite of her father. Polly 
 heard the music, and importuned Edith to give 
 her lessons. " Not just yet," returned Edith, 
 after she had borne the teasing till patience was 
 exhausted, " not quite yet. You know it was
 
 94 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 settled some time ago that, when Harold is well 
 enough, I may. I'm not sure Mama would say 
 he is well enough. You know he had a bad head 
 ache this afternoon and has hacl to lie down. 
 
 " Oh ! that was because papa and mama were 
 going away. He just said that he was ten times 
 better than when we lived in Hillsford." 
 
 " Don't trouble me, Pollywog. I want to get 
 these chords more smoothly. Go away now, and 
 let me be alone. " 
 
 " O dear, I can't go to school, nor anything," 
 whined afflicted Polly. 
 
 " Why, my little toadling," said Tom, coming 
 in to see what the discussion was about ; " you 
 are not well enough. 
 
 This was more than Polly could bear. To be 
 called Pollywog by Edith was hard enough. 
 But here was another and more hateful name, 
 that she had never known, and it seemed to im 
 ply great degradation. She broke into a loud 
 wail and threw herself on the sofa, sobbing 
 violently. 
 
 Grandmother, who felt that the air was get 
 ting too damp for her to remain out of doors 
 longer, heard the outcry and quickened her 
 steps; "Why! what has happened? Thomas, 
 what have you done or said to grieve her so? " 
 
 " I'm sure I didn't mean any harm," he re-
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 95 
 
 plied, laughing. " If I've grieved her, I'm 
 sorry ; " and he stroked her hair lovingly. 
 
 " I'm not a toad, not any sort of a one, and I 
 don't like to be called that," said Polly, now 
 controlling her voice. 
 
 " O, there, grandma ! I see now ; " said Tom : 
 " Harold and I have been watching little young 
 toads', quite a procession of them, hopping and 
 trotting across the drive-way; and when I saw 
 Pauline trotting around, just as lively as she 
 used to be, I was so glad, I called her my little 
 toadling." 
 
 "That was all?" she returned, looking from 
 him to Polly. 
 
 " Yes, and Edith had just called me Polly- 
 wog. I hate such names." 
 
 Tom had disappeared. Grandma had taken 
 an armchair beside the sofa and was holding and 
 patting Polly's hand. Neither of them spoke. 
 Grandma was looking very sober. They sat thus 
 several minutes when Tom came with a picture, 
 " Here, Polly Maria, I want you to have this, 
 just to know and remember how sorry I am that 
 I made you feel so badly." 
 
 It was a photograph of the angels singing to 
 the shepherds on the plains of Bethlehem, and 
 Polly had once said it was the loveliest picture 
 in the house. 
 
 " O, no, Tom. Take it right back, please,
 
 96 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 where it belongs, in your room; it ought to be 
 there. I won't care ever again what you call 
 me. I've just been thinking it out; and names 
 don't really make you so, you know, " she man 
 aged to say with a laugh, though tears were 
 falling fast. 
 
 " You are nervous, dear child," said grandma, 
 " because you are not strong yet." 
 
 Harold came in slowly and Tom hastened to 
 set the chair he usually occupied nearer to Polly 
 and grandmother, and then went on striding up 
 and down the room as he had since coming in. 
 
 "What has Polly been thinking out?" asked 
 Harold ; " one of the funny stories she used to 
 tell us last winter?" 
 
 " Oh, no, no ! nothing of the kind," she quickly 
 replied. 
 
 " Let's have one of those stories," said Tom, 
 throwing himself on the carpet at Polly's feet, 
 "You begin, just as you always do. Tad is 
 smart at it, but yours are best." 
 
 " Can't get just the right start, I'm afraid," 
 she said with a clear, bright laugh, for she was 
 pleased at Tom's compliment. 
 
 " No matter, give us it, whatever it is," said 
 Harold. " Perhaps the next thought will make 
 it right." 
 
 " Well ; only don't look at me till after a min 
 ute or two ; and then help me all you can, every
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 97 
 
 one," was the response with a coquettish toss of 
 her curls. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! well ! " A deep heavy sigh, and 
 then, " Down in a green meadow all among the 
 ferns and the rocks, a nice little famiy had a 
 pretty home. Six brothers and ten sisters, 
 lived there, and a grandmother and an uncle. 
 Now, Tom, it's your turn." 
 
 " So many sisters ! I can't tell what to Bay 
 about all those girls." 
 
 " Easy enough, if you think," chuckled Polly. 
 " Come, hurry up, Tom, I'm ready to tell about 
 the brothers." 
 
 A confused sound of hurrying feet and merry 
 voices in the hall turned all eyes in that direc 
 tion. 
 
 Tad, with 3 bob of his red head and a hasty 
 thrust of his hand through his sparse locks 
 came forward, saying to a tall lady following, 
 " Here she is." Then, turning to Polly, " Miss 
 Maria Murderit wants to know you, Pollywog." 
 
 Polly rose and greeted the lady politely. " I 
 believe I must welcome you, too," said grand 
 mother, shaking the lady's hand cordially. 
 
 On the lady's entrance, Tom had scrambled to 
 his feet, with difficulty repressing a laugh at 
 Tad's queer introduction, he offered her a chair. 
 " Miss Mordaunt, our neighbor, I think," he 
 said.
 
 98 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " I thought Taddie made a mistake," said 
 Polly. " I hope you'll excuse him. He don't 
 know much about words yet." 
 
 Tad colored to the roots of his carroty locks, 
 and stammered an instant, then, with a great 
 effort, commanded his voice and spoke the word 
 properly "Mordaunt it's a very hard word, 
 please excuse me." 
 
 " Of course," she replied, " We are neighbors, 
 and I should like to set aside all formality, sup 
 pose you call me only, Maria?" 
 
 " Formality, another hard word," thought the 
 perplexed boy. He groaned inwardly over his 
 ignorance and determined to begin definitions 
 " right off," for Polly was so radiant he felt sure 
 that she knew what Miss Murderit (that in his 
 mind was still her name) meant. 
 
 " I hadn't expected to see you," continued 
 Miss Mordaunt looking very kindly on Polly. 
 " I suppose you are delighted to be with the 
 family again." 
 
 Polly only smiled, she was thinking what 
 lovely eyes and nose and what beautiful dimples 
 Miss Mordaunt had. 
 
 Grandmother answered for her. " I am afraid 
 she is so happy she is too eager to do just as she 
 did before the accident; she is very impulsive." 
 " Then she should try to interest herself in quiet
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 99 
 
 occupations. I have had to do so for several 
 years," said Miss Mordaunt. 
 
 Edith, who had slipped out at the sound of 
 a strange voice, made her appearance at the side 
 door, and Susan, with Maud, who was strug 
 gling to get from her arms for a romp with Dun, 
 frisking around the boys' heels. 
 
 Miss Mordaumt saw the group. " What a 
 large family you are," she said. " My sister, 
 Mrs. Sinclair, and myself have lived a lonely, 
 humdrum life so long, it is good to hear so many 
 voices and so much good-natured stir around 
 us." Then she talked with Harold and had a 
 few merry words for Duncan, till Maud, com 
 pletely captivated, rushed from Susan, begging 
 to be taken into her lap. Grandmother remon 
 strated, but Miss Mordaunt couldn't refuse; so 
 with her she had a childish chatter about " papa 
 and mama gone a long way off to a sick auntie." 
 
 This led to inquiries about aunt Maria, in 
 Denver, and the visitor had a good deal to tell 
 about her, in 'their school days, when they were 
 close friends. There had been coolness between 
 them of late years, springing from indifference 
 of Henry and his wife toward matters concern 
 ing the Hamiltons, matters once of importance, 
 now of no consequence. 
 
 " You refer, perhaps," said grandmother Mar- 
 ston, to the unplesant, sensational accounts of
 
 ioo THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 doings and sights at Pleasant Hill. No, " Not 
 that exactly. Of course my sister and I know, 
 from our early acquaintance with Maria, that 
 Mr. Philip Marston is too high-minded to be an 
 noyed by such things; and we are delighted to 
 have him here ; and all of the family, Mrs. Mar 
 ston (one of the Thorndikes) being certainly a 
 great addition to our social circle ; and I think I 
 can promise you all pleasant acquaintance with 
 the best people of Pippoton. But Pippoton is 
 not what it was once, (and it never can be again) 
 in the time of Squire Hamilton. To me the sad 
 dest thought of the place, is that the dreadful 
 catastrophe which led to this state of things 
 might have been averted. Yes, and by my own 
 brother." She seemed oppressed by great sorrow 
 and lapsed into silence. 
 
 " Please, Miss Maria," said Polly, (the silence 
 being oppressive at last) "will you let me see 
 some of the pictures that Oldie has seen?" 
 
 " Certainly. If you are well enough, come to 
 my studio any time." 
 
 " I guess," said Tad, " she would like to learn 
 how to make them." 
 
 " Thaddeus ! " exclaimed Edith, in mock se 
 verity. Poor Tad, with another of his painful 
 blushes, subsided instantly. Duncan, as if 
 aware that his friend was in disgrace, jumped to
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. , 101 
 
 his knee and with a squeak of sympathy, began 
 to lick his face. 
 
 " How would you like to have your dog's pic 
 ture painted? " asked Miss Mordaunt. 
 
 " Oh, awfully much. Can you? Will you? 
 but " He tried hard not to stammer, and felt 
 nervously in his pocket. Drawing forth an old 
 wallet, he counted out its contents on a small 
 stand near, then touched Miss Mordaunt' s sleeve, 
 to attract her attention, and asked if the picture 
 would cost much, he was afraid he couldn't pay 
 her for a good many weeks, 
 
 " We won't talk about the price yet," she re 
 plied smiling. I shall want several sittings; 
 and, Taddie, I shall want you; you must be in 
 the sittings, and in the picture, also, I think. 
 Shall we begin to-morrow after school?" He 
 readily assented. 
 
 " Please may I come, too? " asked Polly. 
 
 " What does your grandmother say? " 
 
 Grandmother did not object, only stipulated 
 that the sittings shouldn't exceed half an hour. 
 And then the guest left. 
 
 " Pollywog," said Tad, as Tom politely accom 
 panied Miss Mordaunt down the front entrance 
 and Roland and Robert went to the window to 
 look after them, "you know most about words. 
 What did Miss Maria mean about sitting? 
 What is it that I must be in? "
 
 102 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " Oh why you must sit, that's all." 
 
 " Sit? How? How do you do it? " 
 
 " Oh ! you'll find out when you get there," said 
 Roland. 
 
 " That's what Mr. Goodwin told me when I 
 asked him how to make a snare." 
 
 " Roland means that it is better to be ob 
 serving and try to find out things by looking 
 and watching patiently than to trouble people 
 by a great many questions," said Harold. 
 
 " Come here, Taddie boy," said grandmother 
 softly. 
 
 He came immediately. She passed an arm 
 around 'him and kissed him tenderly. " We are 
 all pleased, dear, to see how much you are trying 
 to learn toow to behave and to do things prop 
 erly. But we sometimes think you wish to find 
 out too quickly and too easily. This makes you 
 hasty in several ways. For one, in speaking, I 
 know you would like to be able to speak at all 
 times without stammering, wouldn't you? " 
 
 Tad assented with a funny little nod, and be 
 gan to smooth the silver hair that lay in straight 
 folds parted neatly on her forehead. 
 
 "Yes? I thought so. Well, now, whenever 
 you begin to speak quickly just stop; wait pa 
 tiently a moment, no matter if some one else 
 speaks before you can get the chance, then, speak 
 very slowly. After doing in this way for several
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 103 
 
 days, you will find that waiting in that manner 
 will not be so disagreeable as at first, and grad 
 ually, you will get cured of the stammer." 
 
 " I I I " began Tad. Grandmother raised 
 a warning finger, and he waited ; the hand that 
 had smoothed the silver hair he laid upon his 
 lips for a moment. " Grandma," he said at last, 
 very deliberately. " Don't you think we can 
 have a happy home if papa and mama are 
 away?" 
 
 " O yes," she replied. " Why shouldn't we? " 
 
 " Well, Darley read in a paper, when he was 
 in the house at noon, what somebody had 
 printed." He was beginning to hurry. His 
 grandmother checked him with a raised finger. 
 
 " Had printed," he resumed, slowly, " that 
 where there are children and a garden and a 
 grandmother, there is a happy home. And 
 we've got them, and I told Darley so, and he 
 said there must be a papa and mama." 
 
 " Darley is right, my dear, and of course we 
 will make those printed words right too. " Now 
 one word about asking troublesome questions, 
 and then I must go to my room, and Harold 
 must do the same. I'm glad you wish to know 
 what things are, and why they are. But it is 
 best to try to discover by looking and observing 
 patiently, till it is impossible to find out without
 
 104 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 help, before you make yourself disagreeable by 
 questioning others." 
 
 " Reading and studying and remembering, 
 you don't need to ask so many questions, do 
 you? " said Polly. 
 
 " I mean to study definitions soon," said Tad, 
 " and then I shan't have to ask questions."
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 105 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 FINDING OUT FOR HIMSELF. 
 
 HAROLD, much against his grandmother's ad 
 vice, remained in the library till Darley returned 
 from Hillsford. He wished to feel assured that 
 his father and mother were thus far on their 
 journey without accident. 
 
 The full moon had risen, tand Harold had en 
 joyed sitting in its light and talking quietly with 
 Tom about his studies. He had not been so free 
 from pain for weeks, and his cough was less 
 frequent and easier since coming to Pleasant 
 Hill. He began to think, as he had said to Wal 
 ter Dinsmore, that in the summer, perhaps in a 
 month hence, he could resume his studies. 
 
 " I wonder where papa and mama are at this 
 moment," said Harold rising, "and what they 
 are thinking about." 
 
 " Thinking about us," rejoined Edith, " where- 
 ever they are. I heard grandmother tell them 
 to leave all their cares behind. Papa said he'd
 
 106 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 try, but mama said it would be impossible. 
 Now, come, let me help you," and she took his 
 spruce pillow. 
 
 " Hold on," cried Tom. " I'm the man of the 
 house, had my commission from the governor. 
 Please let me take the pillow, and you go and 
 give Lottie orders for a tiptop breakfast. Just 
 suggest oyster fritters and scrambled eggs and 
 breaded cutlets and corn muffins and a sally- 
 lunn. 'When the cat's away/ you know." 
 
 " O Tom ! what a harum scarum fellow you 
 are," said Harold, with a faint attempt at a 
 laugh that ended in a cough. 
 
 " O dear ! " said Edith, " your cough is worse, 
 I'm afraid you've taken cold. Be sure you give 
 him his medicine, Thomas." 
 
 He had taken cold and over-estimated his 
 strength. He passed a very uncomfortable night 
 in consequence ; and by his grandmother's direc 
 tions kept his room the next day, much to his 
 disappointment, for Robert and Roland brought 
 in a boquet of jonquils and lilies of the valley 
 from the garden. And he was eager to go as 
 they wished, with their grandmother to see how 
 fine the tulips looked, and how well the early 
 peas and radishes were coming on. They were 
 pleased at the result of their work in clearing 
 weeds and rank grass from the flower beds, and
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 107 
 
 in regulating the appearance of the garden gen 
 erally. 
 
 " I think, boys," said grandmother, " I'll con 
 tent myself with a look from the dining-room 
 window till Harold can go. You just point out 
 things so that I may get a foretaste of what I'm 
 to expect when we can both see the garden 
 nearer." 
 
 " Oh ! but I do so want Oldie to know for him 
 self how well his lily of the valley grows there, 
 the one Mrs. Dinsmore gave him, you know," she 
 added. 
 
 " Perhaps you'll think it a notion, and a queer 
 one too," said Roland," but that lily acted as if 
 it was glad to get with its relations, it went 
 right to work to bloom as soon as we set it with 
 the others. Do you suppose flowers feel, and 
 think, and have instinct? " 
 
 " I can't say, dear, that I suppose they have 
 those faculties, though some botanists have dis 
 covered movements in certain species of plants 
 that indicate properties that may be considered 
 instinct, 
 
 " I should like to discover to discover some 
 thing," said Robert, " like Columbus, or Frank 
 lin, or Stanley." 
 
 "Just remember, boys, all of you, that no 
 man is really a discoverer. The proper meaning 
 of the word is a revealing, a discovery to him
 
 io8 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 an uncovering, we will say, 'by the Great 
 Power who makes and governs all things." 
 
 "And only think, grandma, how long things 
 have to wait till God lets them be discovered," 
 said Roland. 
 
 "And how many good and lovely things He 
 keeps making, that people don't know anything 
 about for years and years," added Robert, 
 eagerly ; " just as the coal, and the gold mines, 
 and electric power and, balloons/' 
 
 " And God gives us so much that we are not 
 thankful for as we ought to be, that we seldom 
 notice," she returned. 
 
 " What we might see in the blades of grass, 
 and in the gravel of the road," said Harold; 
 " how wonderful they are when you examine 
 them, and think what changes they have passed 
 through, and what good thy are doing, and how, 
 in their way, they are working to benefit us." 
 
 " There's that wild iris Taddie set out for you, 
 Oldie, growing all right under the currant 
 bushes, said Roland. And we want you to come 
 out and fix a place for other wild things there 
 are lots of them in the pasture." 
 
 " Some day, when I feel well enough, I must 
 go there," said Harold. "And down to the 
 pond under the willows." 
 
 "There'll be lilies, lovely white lilies, in that 
 pond by and by, Darley says," remarked Rol-
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 109 
 
 and. " You ought to hear Brown tell about 
 the funny little fish in that pond," said Robert, 
 " I mean to buy a fishing pole and line, as soon 
 as I get money enough, and catch some of those 
 fish." 
 
 " Don't don't think, Bertie, of doing that," 
 said grandmother, " without your father's per 
 mission, that is very different from gathering 
 wild flowers. Now run along and save Edith 
 the trouble of getting Taddie ready for school, 
 and then take him there with yourselves." 
 
 Taddie was nowhere to be seen. Neither Edith 
 nor Lottie had " laid eyes on him," they said, 
 since breakfast. Susan was appealed to: he 
 had brought a robin's nest with three blue eggs 
 in it to the nursery a half hour ago and Polly 
 had persuaded him to carry it back to the larch- 
 tree from which he had taken it. That was the 
 last she knew of him. Polly, still in the nur 
 sery, guessed he had gone with Dun to sit for 
 his picture. He had combed and brushed Dun's 
 shaggy coat, to make him look nice for Miss 
 Maria to see, she knew. 
 
 A breathless race to the old house down the 
 road and a hasty inquiry there without result, 
 then the two other boys, feeling they had no 
 time to lose, went to the barn and screamed his 
 name several times but only an echo answered. 
 In desperation they dashed to the grove, sup-
 
 I io THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 posing he had gone to find insects or wild flowers 
 for Miss Leonard. He was not there, nor in the 
 orchard. Thinking he must have already started 
 for school, they betook themselves thither. 
 Hearing nothing from them, Edith came to the 
 same conclusion, and, quite at ease, busied her 
 self in household concerns. 
 
 Lunch time came, but not Taddie. Roland 
 and Robert had seen nothing of him. Robert 
 had once heard him say he meant to go with 
 Duncan to Harry Dunn to show off the tricks 
 Dun had learned. Naturally he would go for 
 him when his class was dismissed, and perhaps 
 he had been invited to luncheon. 
 
 This seemed unlike Tad's usual management; 
 but as Dun also was absent Edith felt it might 
 be so, and had no anxiety. Grandmother and 
 Harold, to whom she mentioned his absence, 
 thought it very strange, and waited impatiently 
 for five o'clock, when he ought to be home from 
 the afternoon session. He did not come. Robert 
 and Roland, filled with apprehension, came fly 
 ing along the road at that time; in their alarm 
 rushing all over the premises and questioning 
 Darley and Browne before going into the house. 
 Darley was getting ready to start for Hillsford, 
 to get Tom from school there. Edith's brain 
 was in a whirl as she tried to think of some 
 reasonable excuse for the boy's absence. She
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. in 
 
 dreaded to add to Harold's and grandmother's 
 anxiety, and her own was now very distressing. 
 Polly fortunately, was so absorbed in making a 
 new dress for Maud's Dinah, she had no thought 
 for anything else. 
 
 " Could he have wandered over the meadow 
 in the morning and fallen into the ditch? " sug 
 gested Robert, with a vivid recollection of his 
 own misadventure there. 
 
 " Or gone to the pond, or to the river," added 
 Roland. 
 
 Almost frantic, she begged them to stop their 
 conjectures. She could not listen to such har 
 rowing ideas, she said. 
 
 "Has any one been to the garret?" asked 
 Bert. Edith shook her head. " Let's go," she 
 sobbed. " Perhaps he's there, has met with an 
 accident." 
 
 The boys hurried, as if it were a matter of life 
 and death, through the hall and around to the 
 attic stairs. 
 
 Edith, regretting what she had said almost as 
 soon as uttered, called after them that it was 
 nonsense to suppose he was there, or anywhere 
 else in the house. If he were in trouble, Dun 
 surely, would have aroused the whole house 
 hold long before now, for he was ready, as they 
 knew, to bark at the least provocation. 
 
 In their eagerness they tore up the stairs,
 
 H2 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 reached the garret door, cast a hasty glance 
 about, called his name several times. All was 
 silence. Everything looked as usual. They 
 were satisfied that he wasn't there, hadn't been 
 there. Coming down as noisily as they had gone 
 up, Harold heard them. He stepped into the 
 hall to ask the meaning of so much commotion. 
 Grandmother followed him to see if Tad were 
 with them ; " Go to Miss Mordaunt," she said, 
 " she may be able to suggest something." 
 
 Both boys seized their hats and raced at full 
 speed to the old gray house. Edith, still sob 
 bing, leaned a moment on the balusters in the 
 hall. At that moment, Susan opened the nur 
 sery door. She was pale and trembling, her 
 eyes as big as saucers, her voice husky and 
 weak; Polly and Maud clinging to her skirts 
 and frightened at her affright. " Oh, Miss 
 Edith! Miss Edith! you are coming up, aren't 
 you? " I have been scared half out of my wits. 
 Such dreadful noises ! " 
 
 " Dreadful noises? where? " asked grand 
 mother. 
 
 " Oh ! right behind my closet knocking and 
 everything horrid, every once in a while, all the 
 afternoon." 
 
 " Why haven't you told of it before? " 
 
 " Oh ! I darsn't," groaned the agitated girl, 
 " 'cause, 'cause the hairnt," she whispered.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 113 
 
 "Edith," said grandmother, with unusual 
 sternness, " don't give way so to your feelings. 
 Don't mind what Susan says, come with me. 
 We'll see what this noise means the wind at 
 the blinds and in the larches, perhaps." 
 
 " No, no, ma'am," whimpered Susan. " I've 
 heard all about it. Something dreadful's going 
 to happen." 
 
 " Mrs. Sinclair wasn't at home," Bert shouted, 
 " didn't have to go to the house." Out of breath 
 from his speed, he gave way to Roland. "We 
 met Miss Maria on her way to the sewing circle ; 
 she said she'd come right up and talk with 
 Edith she couldn't walk as fast as we did." 
 
 Edith went down stairs to receive her, and as 
 Harold was ready to tell her about their excite 
 ment, she listened quietly while he talked. Miss 
 Mordaunt expressed sympathy, but could think 
 of nothing to relieve her anxiety. She herself 
 was much shocked by the occurrence, supposing 
 after the inquiry of the morning that the 
 brothers had found him at school. Grandmother 
 Marston spoke from the head of the stairs, re 
 questing Miss Maria to come up and hear the 
 sounds that had frightened Susan. " I suppose 
 you know something about the silly rumpus in 
 the neighborhood, and can say something to 
 quiet Susan's talk, and, if posible, calm this
 
 H4 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 nervous girl. We'll think about Taddie after 
 she's quieted." 
 
 Hand in hand, Edith and Miss Maria went up 
 immediately. " O, yes, indeed ! " said Miss 
 Maria. " I know all about these rooms, have 
 been all over the house a great many times. 
 Where are the sounds? " She looked at Susan 
 for reply. 
 
 " Haven't heard them so loud lately, There, 
 hark! don't you hear that? " Susan replied. 
 
 It was a faint noise, as of a distant knock. 
 
 " Let me see, I remember about this door," re 
 joined Miss Mordaunt, entering the closet and 
 opening the door. Edith was behind her. " It 
 is so dark we must have a lamp," she said. 
 
 Susan hastily lighted hers and Edith took it. 
 By this time the knocks seemed nearer. " What 
 can it be? " she whispered, almost as much 
 frightned as Susan had been. 
 
 " We'll soon see," said Miss Mordaunt, open 
 ing one of the two inner doors. A strong smell 
 of ether escaped as the door was opened wide. 
 " Be careful," she added, "a staircase; we will 
 go down." 
 
 Edith followed timidly, raising the lamp 
 above her head to light Miss Mordaunt's way. 
 
 " Look out for yourself," came her next ad 
 vice, " they are quite steep, but I know how to 
 take them."
 
 A small figure tottered out of the dimness to meet them.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 115 
 
 They reached the foot of the stairs in safety. 
 " Now this passage way; you see it isn't so dark 
 here. We are getting toward the doctor's office. 
 
 "Doctor's office?" thought Edith; she had 
 never heard of that. But she said nothing. 
 
 " This ether must have been upset, judging 
 by the odor. Strange, very strange, that Squire 
 Hamilton didn't make an end of the doctor's 
 belongings before he went away." 
 
 Now came a weak, but joyful cry ! and a figure, 
 a small figure, black as a chimney sweep tottered 
 out from the dimness to meet them. " Oh, oh ! 
 I I I guess I won't die ! I I'm so glad," the 
 figure said in Taddie's well-known stammer. 
 And then Duncan's bark told them of his de 
 light. 
 
 Taddie, for a long time had thought it was 
 girlish and babyish to kiss or to be kissed. But 
 he forgot his objection in this happy moment, 
 and almost strangled Edith with the hug and 
 the kisses he gave her. Then turning to the 
 lady said, "O O, Miss Murderit! you are most 
 too lovely for anything. May I kiss you too?" 
 
 " Yes, indeed ! " she exclaimed, though she 
 had on her best lace collar, and she saw how 
 black and smutty he was, " You must have had 
 a sad time, poor child; and you've been in the 
 burnt room, too. Haven't you?" 
 
 " I don't know what kind of room they are.
 
 n6 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 And I guess I went to sleep and slept a good 
 while after Dunnie knocked down that big bottle 
 and it broke and smelt so funny. I didn't know 
 where I was when I woke up. And Dunny 
 whined and licked my face. And then I couldn't 
 find my way out. And I knocked and knocked, 
 and hoped somebody would hear me. They 
 didn't, I suppose, so I hollered and hollered till 
 I couldn't any more. And, oh, I've cried most 
 a gallon, I guess. And I knocked and knocked." 
 
 " Poor dear," said Edith, " we hadn't the least 
 thought of these rooms, or of you in them." 
 
 " I cried 'cause I was so hungry, ever so hun 
 gry, and nobody came to help me out. I thought 
 I should starve here and die, and Dunnie too. 
 But one time I thought about God and asked 
 Him to let papa know how sorry I was that I 
 came in here, and I hoped he'd forgive me. And 
 if He thought I'd better die, hoped He'd for 
 give all my sins and let me have a little cubby 
 hole place up in Heaven, if He couldn't let me 
 live in the beautiful mansions, and go about the 
 lovely gardens and handsome streets there, 
 where I could see the other people who could 
 be so happy as to be in them. And I would 
 never forget that it was because I was so 
 naughty as to come in here without permission 
 and had to die for it." Before he had finished, 
 his voice was very weak and plaintive.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 117 
 
 " You poor, darling child," said Miss Mor- 
 daunt, " how you have suffered." 
 
 " Let us get away from this horrid place and 
 this disagreeable atmosphere," said Edith. 
 " How did you come in, Taddie? " 
 
 " Came in that door behind the larches. 
 Never saw it till this morning. Wanted to 
 know what it was for; and grandma said yes 
 terday you mustn't trouble people with asking 
 about things till you have tried to find out your 
 self. The door comes open easy enough, if you 
 push it hard. And Dunnie and I tried to find 
 out for ourselves. There are lots of funny 
 things and bottles and boxes of medicine in one 
 room. Dunnie broke a big bottle, it fell and 
 broke and spilt, that's what smells so here." 
 
 They were passing toward the stairway. 
 " This isn't the way I came," he said. 
 
 " No matter ; we'll go out this way," said 
 Edith. They were soon in the nursery, where all 
 the household, even Tom, who had arrived, and 
 had been told of Tads disappearance and the 
 strange noises, were anxiously waiting; not ex 
 pecting the explorers would /bring Tad with 
 them, however. 
 
 One tremendous cheer from Tom and the 
 other two boys greeted them, then shouts and 
 laughter at their besmirched faces and dresses, 
 to say nothing of Duncan's and Tad's blackness.
 
 n8 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " Enough to raise the roof," grandmother said, 
 and Harold's wasn't the faintest laugh, either. 
 
 "It is worth a good deal of worry to hear you 
 laugh so naturally," said grandmother Marston, 
 patting Harold's shoulder. But Taddie, boy, tell 
 us what you mean by giving us such a fright and 
 getting into such a disgusting mess. Have you 
 been up the chimney, you and Dun?" 
 
 " Suppose I make him more comfortable and 
 rather more tidy first," said Edith. 
 
 " Don't be long about it," she returned. " We 
 are all impatient to know what he has been 
 through to be found in such a plight." 
 
 Miss Mordaunt begged to be excused, " she 
 ought to have been at the Society meeting before 
 now," she said. Grandmother thanked her 
 gratefully, and said she had been a great comfort 
 by the courage she had given them all. 
 
 " Please come into my room, as many as can," 
 said Harold, we'll have Taddie's story there. I 
 can see Lottie peeping up the staircase, she 
 wants to hear it, too, I suppose." He went 
 slowly through the hall. 
 
 " It's a wise suggestion," said his grand 
 mother, "you are tired." I'm afraid the day's 
 excitement is too much for you. " Lottie," she 
 continued looking over the balusters, "dinner 
 is late, of course ; but we aren't ready for it yet. 
 If you can leave, come up to Harold's chamber
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 119 
 
 soon, and hear what Thaddeus has to say about 
 causing us all so much trouble." 
 
 All but Susan and Maud followed her. Lottie 
 was on her way to Taddie's room with apple 
 turnovers for him, supposing he must be hun 
 gry. He devoured two turnovers before finish 
 ing his bath and continued eating while getting 
 on a clean suit of clothes. Edith, from her room, 
 soon called that she was ready to arrange his 
 collar and necktie. Then Taddie, his face shin 
 ing and rosy from his vigorous scrubbing with 
 soap and water, his red hair, fairly rampant, 
 from the same sharp discipline, went with her 
 to make his statement of the day's misdoings. 
 
 " You look more tidy and more comfortable 
 for the recess you have taken," said Tom. 
 Now, we'll have the story of these mysterious 
 doors, that I was hoping to discover some day 
 myself. Doors opening into dungeons and black 
 holes, were they?" 
 
 " Come and sit by me," said his grandmother, 
 " and be sure, Thaddeus, to speak slowly. You 
 wish to cure yourself of stammering, you know." 
 
 She extended her hand. Taddie took it in 
 both his and gave it a little squeeze. " Oh ! 
 grandma, it's awful nice, you've no idea how 
 nice it is to be with you and everybody again." 
 
 " You won't want to start on an exploring ex 
 pedition again, I suppose," said Harold, and
 
 120 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 then there was a chorus from all the others. 
 " Do begin." " Hurry up." " Tell us all about 
 it." "How did you get in?" and Tad, waving 
 his hand merrily, began : " when I carried back 
 that robin's nest, I fell down, right back of the 
 tree, and there was that old door! Never 
 thought there was one there, and couldn't think 
 what it was there for. Then I remembered what 
 grandma had told me about trying to find out 
 without troubling other people. And I just gave 
 that old door a try and a push, and Dun and I 
 were right in, quick as a wink. I hope Lottie's 
 got him clean by this time, she said she would 
 when she gave me the turnovers." 
 
 " That needn't be in your story, Tad," said 
 Tom. " Let Dun and Lottie slide till you get 
 through." 
 
 " I can't tell without Dun in it, he was awful 
 clever all the time." 
 
 " Thaddeus Thorndike Marston," said Harold, 
 pretending displeasure," how many times has 
 your father reproved you for using that word 
 awful improperly." 
 
 " He 'proved me once, 'three times one day, 
 and I know all about it, Oldie (he was speaking 
 very slowly) but when I try to talk as grandma 
 tells me, I can't think so much about the words, 
 only how to say 'em."
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 121 
 
 " That will do, children," said grandma, " Go 
 on, Taddie, in your own way." 
 
 " But I don't want to stammer, you know, and 
 it's going to take so long p'haps we'd better have 
 dinner first. I'm aw no, dreadful hungry. 
 Apple turnovers don't make your stomach feel 
 very well when you've been most starved." 
 
 " Only missed your lunch," said Bert. 
 
 " What do you think of being shipwrecked 
 and nothing to eat or drink for three days, as 
 Mr. Goodwin was once," said Roland," only a 
 little rain water caught in their hands." 
 
 "Oh! hum-m, Taddie," sighed Polly. "Do 
 make haste. I want my dinner too." 
 
 " Taddie Marston, just tell a little, and then 
 we'll have dinner," said Edith. 
 
 " Only what I told you and Miss Mur- 
 derit " 
 
 " Miss Maria, please," broke in Polly. 
 
 " Oh, dear," said Tom. " Will you never get 
 started?" 
 
 "Well, yes. Where was I? Oh! at the be 
 ginning," Tad said, with an air of importance; 
 and then went on to relate the occurrence of the 
 broken bottle, as he had -to Edith and Miss Mor- 
 daunt. 
 
 " If Dun hadn't been with you at that time, I 
 don't know what the consequence would have
 
 122 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 been, much worse than it has been proved," was 
 grandmother's comment. 
 
 " But I didn't, didn't break it. It broke it 
 self fell down just when Dunnie jumped on 
 the bench where it was." 
 
 " But the chimney sweep business, what was 
 that?" asked Tom. 
 
 " Don't know anything of that kind." 
 
 " Miss Hordaunt said he must have been in 
 the burnt room." 
 
 " Didn't see any burnt room. That one next 
 to the medicine room had kind of circus things, 
 rings and hoops and wires and bars and steps. 
 'Twas aw very dark in there, and I fell down 
 two or three times, trying to find out for myself 
 what the things were. And Dunnie got caught 
 in a wheel there. I had to pull him out. It hurt 
 him and he cried dreadfully, and I cried. And 
 I knocked and halloed and nobody came. That 
 was the time I talked to God. I knew He must 
 be there, because, you know, He is everywhere. 
 I couldn't think of a prayer that would be just 
 right. So I only talked and cried. But I guess 
 He heard me. And pretty soon I saw that lamp, 
 and then somebody coming. 'Twas Edith and 
 Miss Miss Maria. That's all. Now, can't we 
 have dinner, grandma? " 
 
 "Dinner is ready; shall we go down, grand 
 ma? " said Edith.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 123 
 
 " I'm proud of your dog," said Tom, tweaking 
 the dog's ear as he hastened toward Taddie. He 
 was the means of saving your life, I suppose." 
 
 " Why, how? " said Tad, in amazement. 
 
 " By rousing you from what you thought was 
 sleep. It was unconsciousness, the effects of 
 the ether spilt from the bottle." 
 
 " I own part of him, a quarter," said Polly, 
 proudly, " and I mean to buy him a pretty collar, 
 he has been so good to Taddie." 
 
 " Miss Pauline Maria, you must recollect that 
 one quarter is mine," added Harold. " If he 
 has a collar, I must be consulted about it, and 
 I shall pay my part of it." 
 
 " And have engraved on it, he saved Thaddeus 
 Thorndike Marston's life, same as on medals, 
 when lives have been saved," said Polly. 
 
 " All right," returned Harold. " Now we'll 
 go down before Tad eats all the dinner up. He's 
 nearly starved, you know."
 
 124 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 MBS. SINCLAIR'S STORY. 
 
 MRS. SINCLAIR made an early call at Pleasant 
 Hill the next day. Her sister's account of Tad- 
 die's disappearance and where he was found, im 
 pressed her deeply. It was evident that the 
 family, at least that portion of it now at home, 
 had no knowledge of the rooms that Edith saw 
 for the first time yesterday. If Mr. and Mrs. 
 Marston were not aware of their existence, gome- 
 body was culpable. Why Squire Hamilton had 
 allowed them to remain so many years with their 
 contents unremoved, was a mystery. And yet, 
 considering his love of ease and his negligent 
 habits, it was no more than might have been ex 
 pected, had they not consisted of such dangerous 
 elements. It would seem that no high-minded, 
 no conscientious person could have allowed the 
 property to pass out of his hands without ac 
 quainting the purchaser with the locality of 
 those rooms and the nature of their contents. 
 Whatever might be the case, looking at it from
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 125 
 
 her point of view, she considered it her duty now 
 to put these new neighbors of hers on their 
 guard against exposing themselves to those dan 
 gers. 
 
 The weather was mild and clear, with a soft 
 southwest breeze that lightly stirred the boughs 
 of the tall ailanthus trees bordering the drive 
 way. Harold was lying in his hammock on the 
 veranda; grandmother Marston had taken her 
 knitting there, and on the lounge beside her 
 were Polly and Tad and the puppy. 
 
 Grandmother saw that Tad looked pale and 
 complained of feeling tired. So she thought best 
 to keep him at home from school. She feared 
 that the effects of the ether and his mental dis 
 tress had not left him; and rather than incur 
 the risk of a fit of sickness, was willing to keep 
 him under her own eye for this one day longer, 
 if he were not plainly in his usual health and 
 spirits. Polly was delighted to have his com 
 pany; she was getting lonely in the absence of 
 her mother, and longing for the time when she 
 should be told that she had fully recovered from 
 her accident. 
 
 Mrs. Sinclair, like her sister, was fond of 
 children, and cheerful and lively in disposition. 
 After a pleasant greeting to grandmother and 
 Harold, and congratulations on Harold's im 
 proved appearance, she said to Taddie. " Well,
 
 126 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 young man, how did you like your ride on the 
 wheel of flame yesterday? " 
 
 Tad's face was no longer pale. If every drop 
 of blood in his body had rushed there, it couldn't 
 have had a deeper glow. He felt so uncomfort 
 able, he dropped Dun suddenly, and thrust his 
 hands through and through his scanty hair till 
 it stood out like bristles before he could answer 
 her. Yet, nervous as 1 he was, he remembered to 
 speak slowly and to command his voice : 
 
 " I didn't see a wheel of flame. Was it that 
 black thing Dunnie got caught in when I turned 
 it round ? " 
 
 " I suppose it may have been that. Fortunate 
 for you that you didn't know about the crank 
 that sets it flaming. I guess you won't want to 
 turn it around again, anyway." 
 
 " No," rejoined Tad, very demurely. " I don't 
 to go into those rooms again." 
 
 " I suppose you know," said Mrs. Sinclair 
 turning to grandmother Marston, "about those 
 rooms in the balcony." 
 
 " My son once mentioned some rooms filled 
 with rubbish, articles that once belonged to the 
 squire's son ; but he said nothing more," replied 
 the old lady. 
 
 " Yes, Richard Hamilton was something of a 
 chemist, he was called Doctor, though he never 
 had a diploma. A well meaning fellow, but too
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 127 
 
 fond of experimenting with acids and alkalies; 
 spent dollars and dollars, and all to no purpose, 
 not only of his father's, but of other people's 
 money, and at last in one of his experiments set 
 fire to his room and came near burning down 
 the house." 
 
 " Did that make the smut that blacked Tad- 
 die and Dun?" asked Polly. 
 
 " Perhaps nobody knows, though ; for his 
 father was so angry with him, he was never seen 
 after that fire most persons think he lost his 
 life in the explosion." 
 
 Mrs. Sinclair then enquired when Taddie and 
 his dog were coming to sit for their picture. 
 After a little talk the matter was left for Miss 
 Mordaunt to fix the date, making a few en 
 quiries about the journey Mr. and Mrs. Mar- 
 ston had taken so suddenly, saying she had an 
 errand farther down the village, she took her 
 leave. 
 
 Grandmother was busy with thoughts that 
 Mrs. Sinclair's talk had suggested. Taddie had 
 spoken twice unheeded. At last with a deep 
 sigh he said quietly, " Grandma, does your 
 knitting trouble you? the needles click dreadful 
 loud. Pr'aps that's the reason you don't hear 
 me." 
 
 " What did you say, dear? " she returned, 
 rousing from her reverie.
 
 128 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " Why ! I just asked if I had been very wicked 
 in going into that room yesterday, it made so 
 much trouble for other folks." 
 
 " Well, I believe I must say that you ought to 
 check your curiosity a little, especially when it 
 leads you to open a door that you know nothing 
 about" 
 
 " Oh ! hum ! I've got so many faults I don't 
 know when I shall get them all rid of," he said 
 dolefully, with a pitiful pucker of his red lips, 
 that had a great mind to let another sigh es 
 cape. 
 
 Dunnie, as if conscious of his sorrow, sprang 
 to his knee and began to lick his face. He fond 
 led him and laid his cheek against the dog's 
 shaggy head. 
 
 " Why, Taddie boy, you are doing very well," 
 said his grandmother. " Very well, indeed, for 
 such a little fellow. Don't feel bad because I 
 give you so many don'ts when I talk with you. 
 You are doing bravely in many ways, with only 
 a few days' trying you are getting along wonder 
 fully about stammering. But I want you to 
 know that you must not expect to understand 
 why older persons do or say many things. Or 
 why a great many matters or occasions are as 
 they are. There is much, very much, in the 
 world that I would like to know, and to know 
 the reasons for, but I feel that I never can know,
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 129 
 
 and must be content not to know. All that God 
 sees fit to let me know, He will provide ways to 
 teach me. As good children, we must submit to 
 His rules, and trust His wisdom and His 
 love."
 
 130 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 IN DENVER. 
 
 MRS. MARSTON had never cared for much be 
 yond the precincts of home. This was her little 
 world ; and her tastes, her ambitions, her aspira 
 tions, all, found ample gratification in promot 
 ing the welfare of her family. Hence she was 
 no traveller and the journey to Denver became 
 tedious. Before the third day had passed, she 
 longed impatiently for quiet and rest, and was 
 rejoiced to hear, at nightfall, that in less than 
 three hours they would be in Denver. 
 
 After the first hour, Mr. Marston sat, watch 
 in hand, telling the quarters as they elapsed. 
 At last, putting up his watch, he ejaculated 
 cheerily, " Almost there," and began to collect 
 their hand-baggage. After some difficulty the 
 cabman found Mrs. Mordaunt's home and rang 
 the door bell furiously. The peal was answered 
 by a sleepy looking woman in a night cap and a 
 shawl. "Yes, come right in," she said. "The 
 poor soul has been looking for her friends all
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 131 
 
 day. Up two flights, turn to the right, third 
 door." She repeated the words as if they were 
 a formula often used. 
 
 The entry was dark except for the dim light 
 of a smoky lamp on a table at the head of the 
 first flight of stairs. Mr. Marston passed up 
 noiselessly, but the rickety stairs responded to 
 every step. Before they had reached the second 
 staircase, that third door was opened, and a tall 
 girl came out with a bright lamp, so that they 
 went on more rapidly. 
 
 " This is Ruth, I suppose," said Mr. Marston 
 as he gained the upper entry. He spoke low, but 
 Mrs. Mordaunt heard him, and recognized his 
 voice. " O Philip, Philip," she said querulously, 
 " You have come at last." Mrs. Marston clasped 
 the girl's hand and kissed her thin, pale cheek. 
 
 It was a low, narrow, cheerless-looking room 
 to which Ruth conducted them; the high bed 
 took nearly half its space; another smaller one, 
 a crib, a table, two large trunks and two chairs 
 filled the remainder. But for the lamp held 
 high above their heads, Mr. and Mrs. Marston 
 could not have passed to Mrs. Mordaunt's bed 
 side without danger to life and limb. 
 
 "This is kind, Philip," went on Mrs. Mor 
 daunt, in her joy flinging her arms around him 
 and weeping and moaning like a grieved child. 
 "Mary, too. Let me be sure I have you both
 
 132 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 here. I have been so lonely." Mrs. Marston 
 drew near and caressed the poor, forlorn creat 
 ure tenderly. 
 
 The baby in its crib stirred, coughed, and 
 wailed pitifully. Ruth tried to soothe it, but in 
 vain. She took it in her arms and paced what 
 little space there was in the room. 
 
 With no small parade of noise and talk, the 
 hackman brought the trunks and demanded 
 where 'he should place them. There was no 
 place except upon the other two trunks. 
 
 " You see how we have to live, Philip," said 
 Mrs. Mordaunt. " I don't know what would be 
 come of baby and me if Ruth wasn't so handy. 
 Bring Henry here, Ruth, I'll hush him while you 
 wait upon your uncle and aunt." 
 
 Ruth did as she was bid, and the baby's cries 
 were soon stilled. Then over a little oil stove 
 she set tea to steeping, and from a closet brought 
 dishes and food. Though not a very appetizing 
 meal, the hungry travellers appreciatel the girl's 
 efforts and made the best of it. 
 
 " I have borrowed a sleeping room for you 
 from my kind neighbor, Mrs. Guntley," said Mrs. 
 Mordaunt. " I suppose you will wish to retire 
 soon, Mary. I shan't sleep ; I can't till I've had 
 a talk with Philip. Ruth has had so little sleep 
 lately, because of my poor head, she mustn't sit 
 up much longer."
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 133 
 
 " I will sit with you, Maria," said Mr. Mar- 
 ston ; " but not one word about your troubles 
 will I hear, till I, too, have had some rest. I 
 am glad to find you better than I expected, and 
 I shan't allow you to make yourself worse by too 
 much excitement. Mary ought to go to bed im 
 mediately; she has borne the journey bravely. 
 But I can see it has been very hard for her." 
 
 After placing the baby in his crib, and show 
 ing Mrs. Marston to the borrowed room, which 
 was just opposite, on the other side of the entry, 
 Ruth was ready to go to her night's rest in the 
 smaller bed. 
 
 Ruth was tall for thirteen years; thin, angu 
 lar, and slightly stooping. Her features were 
 homely; the expression of her large eyes sad, 
 and almost sullen ; her mouth wilful and selfish. 
 She had a quantity of dark hair that hung un 
 tidily about her small, sallow face, and her faded 
 cotton dress showed careless usage. Notwith 
 standing her unprepossessing appearance, Mrs. 
 Marston pitied her, and determined to love her. 
 
 The next morning Ruth had a pleasant salu 
 tation and a greeting kiss, luxuries never before 
 known in a morning experience. So she 
 smoothed back her hair, straightened her neck, 
 twisted her mouth into something like a smile, 
 and then bustled about to prepare breakfast. 
 
 Mrs. Marston felt that her husband ought to
 
 134 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 let her take his place at his sister's bedside now, 
 and try to get a little restful quiet, in the bor 
 rowed room. But he would not consent, saying 
 he had had some sleep in his chair, and that 
 after he had heard Maria's account of her trials, 
 he should go in quest of lodgings. It was im 
 possible for them to remain another night in 
 such crowded quarters. And he saw plainly 
 that Maria would not be able to take the jour 
 ney home with them for a number of days. 
 
 The baby, a good-natured little thing, was on 
 good terms with everybody and everything. 
 Ruth moved about less clumsily than the pre 
 vious night, perhaps need of sleep had some 
 thing to do with her stupidity and awkwardness. 
 Mrs. Mordaunt said that she, herself, felt better 
 than for a week past, and in quite cheerful tones 
 gave Ruth orders about breakfast and the care 
 of the baby. Altogether, matters didn't look so 
 gloomy to the Marstons as at midnight. 
 
 Maria was eager to relate her sufferings and 
 sorrows. She craved their sympathey and was 
 ready to accept their advice and assistance. 
 " To whom else could I, or should I go, Philip? " 
 she asked, relapsing again into despondency. 
 
 " You know you will always be welcome," he 
 returned, " wherever I am." 
 
 " Believing that, is all that gives me courage 
 now," she said, rather more cheerfully. u If I
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 135 
 
 may spend my last days with you and mother, 
 and leave these two children in your care, I shall 
 die happy. I cannot have thought now for Wil 
 lie. Oh! you can't imagine how disappointed I 
 am in that boy! He was very promising after 
 his father's death ; grew manly fast. And he was 
 good. And so kind to us all. And handsome. 
 Oh ! I was proud of him. To think that he could 
 be so wicked as to rob his employer, who treated 
 him so nobly, almost broke my heart. Why, if 
 Mr. Doakson had been his father he couldn't 
 have felt worse at Will's theft. And then in 
 committing the theft he had no consideration 
 for me, you see; after I had done so much for 
 him, hoping he could and would repay me before 
 a great while." 
 
 " You have no clew to his whereabouts, have 
 no idea where he has gone? " asked Mr. Marston. 
 
 " Not the least. Walton and Simpkins, two 
 of the other clerks, only knew that he was seen 
 hurrying to the station just before the noon train 
 on the southwestern route started." 
 
 " Nothing further? " 
 
 " Nothing further. They have been very kind, 
 have called to see me several times, and say 
 they would prefer he should escape, he is so 
 young. Mr. Doakson, his employer, has also been 
 here to talk with me. When he learned how I 
 am situated said he should let the matter drop.
 
 136 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 Wasn't that kind? He is wealthy and the three 
 hundred dollars that Will took are not a great 
 loss to him. But he was distressed to know 
 that one in whom he had placed so much con 
 fidence, to whom he had become so warmly at 
 tached, should have had so little principle and 
 could treat him so dishonorably." 
 
 " When did the robbery occur? " asked Mrs. 
 Marston. 
 
 " At noon, in broad daylight. The store is so 
 far downtown that William used to take his 
 lunch with him and remain all day, except when 
 he had his afternoon out for his baseball." 
 
 " Ah ! that baseball ! " said Mr. Marston, shak 
 ing his head in displeasure. 
 
 " I thought he needed the exercise. He 
 looked pale, and was losing flesh, Philip. I 
 couldn't bear to think he was getting sick for 
 the want of something of that kind." 
 
 "Was William left in charge of the store at 
 noon?" 
 
 "Oh, no; not in charge. He attended to cus 
 tomers who happened in then. Other clerks, 
 Walton and Simpkins among them, often re 
 mained at that time, and accommodated each 
 other in getting intervals for rest and eating 
 lunch." 
 
 " Bather a peculiar fashion of conducting
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 137 
 
 business, I should say," was Mr. Marston's re 
 sponse. 
 
 " It isn't considered so here. Will told me 
 that most of the men employed in stores stay 
 all day in the busy season. Some go to restau 
 rants to dine. But quite a number bring lunch 
 from home and snatch what chance they can to 
 eat it. Trade has been slack this spring, Simp- 
 kins told me, and few persons were in that morn 
 ing. He and Walton went to a restaurant, leav 
 ing Will alone half an hour. When they came 
 back they asked him who had been in. He said 
 no one. A few minutes later, passing the count 
 ing-room door, they noticed that the safe was 
 partly open. They knew at once that mischief 
 had been done, for the cashier would never leave 
 it in that state. Looking in, they found it 
 empty. It was fortunate, Simpkins said, that 
 in settling a large bill, Mr. Doakson had drawn 
 so low on its contents an hour previous. They 
 told Will they had discovered it partly open and 
 empty. Of course he denied all knowedge of 
 it. Yet no one but he could have had access to 
 it ; and in the face of such evidence, denial was 
 useless. Then they told him what would be the 
 consequences Mr. Doakson's anger, trial, con 
 viction, and prison. Will still declared he knew 
 nothing about it, but he seized his hat and coat 
 and left the store. Simpkins and Walton were
 
 138 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 as much shocked as I that he should commit 
 such a crime; and of course to persist in denial 
 made it much worse." 
 
 " Baseball clubs and betting on the games are 
 ruining our young men," said Mr. Marston with 
 an ominous shake of his gray head. " Rough 
 sport and too violent exercise it is, at best, where 
 no betting is allowed. Betting, its admirers say, 
 makes the game more interesting; and scarcely 
 a club is organized without the expectation of 
 that to help it along. Fractures, dislocaions, 
 and bruises are bad enough ; but betting added, 
 makes baseball immeasureably more hurtful by 
 its effect on the character." 
 
 " I never heard Will say that there was bet 
 ting in his club," returned Mrs. Mordaunt. 
 
 " Perhaps not, but, ten chances to one, it was 
 there, with all its tricks and dissimulations. 
 " But, there, Maria," he continued, " I'm not 
 going to blame you. You don't know much 
 about the ways of the world, and the tempta 
 tions that beset the boys now-a-days; or you 
 would have tried to fortify Will for what he was 
 likely to encounter in that store." 
 
 " If he were my son," said Mrs. Marston, " I 
 shouldn't be satisfied with the evidence that 
 Simpkin and Walton give of his guilt." 
 
 "Why, Mary! what would you have?" re 
 joined her husband. " It is plain as daylight."
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 139 
 
 " Plausible, but not plain to my mind," she 
 returned. " And Maria, if I were you, I'd think 
 that Willie, wherever he is, is just as good as he 
 was before the robbery. Perhaps, sometime, 
 you'll be permitted to know it surely. It would 
 be a comfort to think so, wouldn't it?" 
 
 " O yes, a great comfort," said the distressed 
 mother. 
 
 " Take that comfort, sister, if you can," said 
 Mr. Marston tenderly. " It must be a great 
 grief to a parent to feel that a child is bringing 
 misery on himself as well as shame and disgrace 
 to the family. Now, about yourself, have you 
 said anything to your doctor about going east? " 
 
 * Yes," and he had told her, the day previous, 
 that by the next week she would probably be 
 well enough to start, if she continued to improve 
 as during the past three days. " And I feel so 
 much better since you came," she added, "I 
 think there will be no doubt about it." 
 
 Mr. Marston said that although he didn't wish 
 to run any risk by starting before she was able 
 to undertake the journey, he was anxious to re 
 turn as soon as possible. He wished, however, 
 to meet Mr. Doakson and the young men in his 
 employ, and to see the store and know all the 
 details of the robbery. To-day, being Sunday, 
 nothing of that sort could be done ; but, perhaps,
 
 140 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 he could this afternoon secure a good lodging- 
 place near for himself and wife. 
 
 Mrs. Marston said a good deal of space would 
 be needed to pack comfortably, and if Maria 
 wished to take all her belongings that room 
 would be serviceable for assorting and storing 
 while they packed. Mrs. Mordaunt accepted 
 the suggestion, and saw Mr. Marston set off on 
 his quest without demur. While he was absent, 
 she insisted on rising and dressing. 
 
 She had overestimated her strength. She 
 fainted, and before he returned she was again in 
 bed with Mrs. Marston's orders not to rise till 
 she gave permission. " I see, Maria, that I must 
 treat you as a child. And if you wish me to 
 care for your children you must set them an ex 
 ample of obedience," she said playfully. Then 
 she tended the frolicsome baby till Ruth had 
 made the room as tidy as she knew how to make 
 it and was ready to give him his bath. 
 
 After that she wrote a short letter to grand 
 mother Marston, who she knew would be an 
 xious to hear in what condition they had found 
 Maria and her children. When Mr. Marston 
 came in she was near its conclusion. He had 
 engaged apartments in the next block and a 
 hackman was coming soon to take their trunks 
 thither. He added a few merry lines to his 
 children, gave grandmother a funny account of
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 141 
 
 their search at midnight for Maria, and then 
 closed the letter. When the hackinan carried 
 away the trunks, he went with him and mailed 
 it. Kuth seemed really grieved to see the trunks 
 leaving. " It makes me feel as if you don't want 
 to belong to us, aunt Mary," she said, her eyes 
 full of tears. 
 
 " If I had had the least suspicion of such a 
 thought occurring to you, Ruth, my trunk 
 shouldn't have gone, and I'd not leave the house. 
 But your uncle would still say, that so many of 
 us, must not be in this small room continually. 
 
 The apartments that Mr. Marston had hired 
 were airy and pleasant. 
 
 On Monday, Mr. Marston had an interview 
 with Mr. Doakson at his place of business ; saw 
 the position of the safe in the counting room 
 and the counter where William had been em 
 ployed. Then took a general survey of the store, 
 and talked with Walton and Simpkins. Their 
 account of the robbery did not differ materially 
 from that of Mrs. Mordaunt's. They all spoke 
 well of the boy's general conduct; Mr. Doakson, 
 with enthusiasm of his courteous manners, 
 " That is a strain of the Thorndike family," put 
 in Mr. Marston. 
 
 " A very desirable trait," said Mr. Doakson, 
 with a dignified how. " His diligence and faith 
 fulness, were all that could be wished. And he
 
 142 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 was a favorite with customers. I became much 
 interested in watching his growth in manliness, 
 and in his knowledge of the business during the 
 six months he was in our employ. The discov 
 ery of his dishonesty gave me a great shock, if 
 he had been my own son, I don't think I should 
 have felt worse." 
 
 Taking a photograph from his desk, he asked, 
 " Does that look like the face of a thief? " 
 
 Mr. Marston gazed on the broad brow, the 
 full, uplifted eyes, straight nose, and delicate 
 close set ears with mingled admiration and re 
 gret, " His grandfather Thorndike's brow and 
 eyes," he said. With these were the loose lips of 
 irresolution, and the small pointed chin of a 
 weak will, " his father's," was his mental com 
 ment. But a pleasant smile, seeming the reflec 
 tion of an ingenuous and kindly soul, illumined 
 the face, and he was glad to see that. 
 
 " It is over ten years since I last saw him. Of 
 course the face of a six years' child has changed 
 greatly since then," replied Mr. Marston. " Had 
 I not heard of his misconduct, I should consider 
 it the picture of a frank, open-hearted young 
 man; not particularly intellectual, but, cer 
 tainly, without vicious tendencies." 
 
 " I think he was fond of me," said Mr. Doak- 
 son, " He brought this photo to me rather tim 
 idly one day and asked for mine in exchange. I
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 143 
 
 told him I would sit when we were not so busy, 
 and he and all the other employees should have 
 one. You see it was very agreeable to such an 
 old man as I am, and it touchd me. I wish now 
 I could have gratified him by sitting imme 
 diately." 
 
 He took off his glasses, wiped his eyes, and his 
 glasses also; and as Mr. Marston returned the 
 photograph, looked at it tenderly some minutes 
 in which neither of them spoke. 
 
 " Poor fellow," said he at last. " I suppose 
 he was sorely tempted. " I wish he had been 
 my son, then he would have had no need of tak 
 ing the money." 
 
 " I see you were attached to him," said Mr. 
 Marston, very kindly. 
 
 " Yes. How could I help it? I have no chil 
 dren, no near relatives. And he was so at 
 tractive, with that smile, that beaming face, 
 whenever he chanced to meet my eyes. And so 
 superior to the other boys and young men in the 
 store. Ah, well ! it can't be helped now. I hope 
 he'll use the money properly and never again be 
 tempted to take what doesn't belong to him." 
 
 " I thank you indeed, sir," said Mr. Marston, 
 "for your kind consideration of the boy." 
 
 " Oh ! I know all about it. Yes, for I was once 
 poor, had all sorts of trials and temptations. 
 But, thank God! my mother's words of warn-
 
 144 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 ing came to my mind in many a perilous mo 
 ment." 
 
 " His baseball expenses and the betting on 
 games, especially, must have harassed him be 
 yond endurance, it seems to me," said Mr. Mar- 
 ston. 
 
 " Very likely. I approve of ball-playing, and 
 when he asked for afternoons out because he 
 needed exercise, I couldn't refuse, and I didn't 
 think of the money it might cost him." 
 
 " How do you suppose he contrived to open 
 the safe?" 
 
 " Well, that was a puzzle to me at first. Wal 
 ton said there were chances enough in the morn 
 ing that he could take to lay plans and to carry 
 them out, trade has been so dull this spring." 
 
 " But, a boy like him. It couldn't have been 
 opened without great calculation and with tools 
 fitted for the work." 
 
 " Certainly not, for it has a very intricate 
 lock. Still, he did it. He must be masterly in 
 genious." 
 
 " It wasn't closed after the theft. Was the 
 lock injured?" 
 
 " Not at all. I suppose he was startled, per 
 haps a customer came in, before 'he had time to 
 shut it." 
 
 " Why didn't Walton and Simpkins make him 
 give up the money before he escaped?"
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 145 
 
 "Oh! it was all so sudden, probably they 
 didn't think of that." 
 
 Mr. Marston shook his head incredulously: 
 " I never thought so till this minute, but to me 
 it looks dark for them." 
 
 " You astonish me, sir," said Mr. Doakson, 
 fingering his glasses nervously. " Why, Walton 
 has been in my employ six years, and is my most 
 efficient salesman ; while Simpkins has been with 
 me over two. Always, both of them, looking out 
 for my interests, and faithful in every respect. 
 No, no. There is nothing to be said against 
 them. They happened to see the safe unclosed 
 before Tainter, the cashier, came in. A few 
 minutes later, Tainter would have been the dis 
 coverer." 
 
 " Excuse me, Mr. Doakson, I wouldn't for the 
 world accuse a person wrongfully. I feel so 
 distressed by the affair and am so anxious to 
 clear William of the stigma, if possible, I catch 
 at the least thread that might lead him into 
 the light. You understand me?" 
 
 " Perfectly. I wish from my heart I could 
 think differently about the poor boy. Even now, 
 if he would come back and confess I would let 
 him have his place again, after I had given him 
 advice. I believe I would adopt him. He would 
 then have no such temptation in the future." 
 
 " I'm sure you couldn't say more. I thank
 
 146 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 you sincerely for all you have done, especially 
 for the kind feelings with which you still regard 
 this unfortunate nephew. I wish we could find 
 out where he is. But perhaps silence, keeping 
 the whole circumstance quiet, is the most char 
 itable management at present."
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 147 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 EDITH'S SURPRISE. 
 
 " Coming home! coming home! " shouted Tom 
 Marston as Darley drove him up the carriage 
 way. He waved an open letter in one hand, his 
 hat in the other. 
 
 It was a hot afternoon and Prince seemed de 
 termined to take his work leisurely. He came 
 along so slowly that Tom was sorely tempted to 
 jump from the vehicle and run the last ten yards. 
 But as the way was steep, he curbed his impa 
 tience and contented himself with screaming ex 
 tracts from the letter. 
 
 Harold, for the first time had taken a walk 
 to the pines, and had just returned fatigued and 
 very warm. He lay in the hammock on the ver 
 anda. Polly was fanning him and asking ques 
 tion after question, in wondering surprise, about 
 the pale, wax-like flowers they had found grow 
 ing at the root of a pine tree. She was so in 
 terested in what he was saying she had no 
 thought for anything else. It was Harold, who
 
 148 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 first heard the shouts. He raised himself im 
 mediately, sprang out of the hammock, and was 
 ready to seize the letter the minute Tom 
 alighted. 
 
 " Where's grandma? " said Tom in the same 
 high key. " I've opened the letter because I 
 knew from the hand-writing on the envelope 
 that it came from papa. But it is her letter." 
 
 " Call her down. I guess it is for all of us," 
 returned Harold. 
 
 "No, no," said Polly "Sh! sh! She's taking 
 a nap. It hurts people to have sleep disturbed." 
 
 Edith, whose room overlooked the piazza, 
 hearing loud voices and seeing the letter in 
 Tom's hand, threw down her slate and tossed 
 the algebra she had been studying to the top 
 of her bookcase, and rushed down stairs and out 
 to the little group on the piazza; her cheeks 
 flushed, her eyes like two stars, she knew, in 
 stinctively, from whom the letter had come. 
 " I'll take it," she said. 
 
 " Not you ! " said Tom, " I suppose I had no 
 business to open and read the letter. But if I 
 have sinned there is no reason why you or any 
 one else should be sinners also. This is 
 grandma's letter, see, her name shows that, on 
 the envelope. Nobody has any right to it but 
 her," and he waved it tauntingly over his head. 
 
 "Oh, dear! don't be so tantalizing," said
 
 Coming home ! Coming home ! " shouted Tom.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 149 
 
 Edith. " If you won't let us have it, tell us 
 what papa and mama have written." 
 
 " No, no. That would be conveying stolen 
 goods, a crime. If she chooses to give you the 
 information, that's another thing." 
 
 " What a tease you are," said Harold, laugh 
 ing at the sober, matter-of-fact cast of Tom's 
 face. 
 
 " Well, they are coming home, I know that," 
 said Polly. " That's no news. But when? that's 
 the question." 
 
 " It's too bad Tom won't say," said Edith, and 
 pinched Tom's arm mischievously. 
 
 It was just a little nip, but Tom shrieked as 
 if she had broken his arm. 
 
 " Nonsense ! it couldn't have hurt, not much ! " 
 exclaimed Edith. 
 
 "What does all this mean?" It was grand 
 mother Marston's pleasant low voice, as she 
 stood beore them. 
 
 Tom was nursing his arm awkwardly, the 
 letter in his hand preventing free use of fingers. 
 His face had a most doleful expression and he 
 groaned lugubriously. 
 
 "Tom is such a quiz, you never can tell 
 whether he is in fun or earnest," exclaimed 
 Edith. 
 
 " Oh ! this is all fun, grandma," said Harold. 
 " He is feeling gay because of the letter."
 
 150 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " It's for you," said Polly. " And he's sinned 
 and read it first, and won't tell us a single 
 thing." 
 
 Grandmother extended her hand. Tom, look 
 ing sheepish, and mumbling something about 
 couldn't resist the temptation, gave her the let 
 ter and drew her armchair and foot-rest to the 
 center of the veranda. She put on her glasses, 
 glanced over the closely written pages, and said 
 " They have started, probably, and may arrive 
 the day after to-morrow. We'll keep the rest of 
 the contents till the other boys are here. I won 
 der why they are not home from school yet. 
 Dinner will be ready soon. After dinner we'll 
 have the whole letter read. Taddie with Roland 
 and Robert just at that moment came bounding 
 over the lawn and up the drive-way. 
 
 " Got a breath of air to spare? " cried Robert, 
 nearly trampling on Duncan, who at the sound 
 of their footsteps roused from his sleep in the 
 shade of the ailanthus trees, and stood lazily 
 stretching himself on the gravelled walk. 
 
 " Take care," shouted Tom. " Are you more 
 of a beast than the dog?" 
 
 Polly waved the huge palmleaf fan furiously. 
 Duncan thought this a signal for him and began 
 a trot that ended in a succession of joyful leaps 
 toward her; and Taddie, as if taking Dun's ac 
 tions for his cue, sprang at one stride before
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 151 
 
 Bert, and taking off his hat, placed himself di 
 rectly in front of Polly for the benefit of the 
 breeze she was making. 
 
 " Why do you run and get so warm in this 
 summer weather? " asked Edith. " See how cool 
 and comfortable Roland is, walking up lei 
 surely." 
 
 "Think so?" said Bert. "He was out of 
 breath, had to walk. Oh! you ought to have 
 seen Rollie in that last game, never was a finer 
 one. He's had to pay for it, though, he's most 
 used up." 
 
 " Hat-ball, this hot day," exclaimed Harold. 
 " I wonder Mr. Parks should allow it." 
 
 " Just the time for it," remarked Roland, 
 throwing himself on the piazza-steps. His 
 breath came in short, quick gasps and he was 
 very pale. 
 
 " O-h-h stammered Tad ; " di didn't 
 
 " Stop, Thaddeus," said his grandmother, lay 
 ing a hand on his arm. " That old style of 
 speech isn't to be heard, you know." 
 
 " Taddie warm, Taddie's hair warm," lisped 
 Maud tip-toeing, and hand upraised, as if to 
 smooth the moist wisps which Tad had stirred 
 into a rough tangle. 
 
 By this time Tad was able to speak without 
 stammering. " Didn't the fellows cheer, though, 
 'cause Rollie winned the game? "
 
 152 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " Won ! won ! won ! " came, with much laugh 
 ter, from several voices. 
 
 " One cheer," said Tad. " No, all cheered ; 
 they did, I saw them with my own eyes." 
 
 " Hurra ! Good for you, Tad," cried Bert, 
 kicking his heels as he laughed, the rest joining 
 in chorus. 
 
 Polly's laugh suddenly stopped, she saw Tad- 
 die was bewildered by the laughter. Taddie, 
 dear," she said kindly, "you must learn defini 
 tions." 
 
 " I know it," he returned. " Miss Leonard 
 told me to-day that when papa gets home she 
 will call and see about it." 
 
 " Now, I wish to know," said Edith, " if you 
 think you have any right (I am speaking to you, 
 Robert and Roland) any right to deface your 
 hats, your new hats, in the manner that you 
 have. Just see the bruises, almost a break in 
 the crown of yours Roland. And the brim of 
 yours is very much out of shape, Robert. You 
 must treat them more carefully." 
 
 " You must have hate to play hat-ball," re 
 plied Robert, " and we didn't need them on our 
 heads in the school yard this hot day." 
 
 " The boys in the game took their hats for it, 
 and you can't help the bruises," said Roland. 
 
 " Isn't it dinner time? I'm hungry," he ad-
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 153 
 
 ded, now rising. " Who said papa and mama 
 are coming home? Has any one had a letter? " 
 
 The dinner bell rang. " Ready," said Edith, 
 offering her arm to Harold. Grandmother held 
 up her letter to Roland. He came immediately 
 to her side and must have asked to read it, for 
 she said in a low voice, " No, no. We will all 
 enjoy it together by and by." 
 
 There was little talk during dinner. After a 
 time of unusual silence, Edith said, " I've a 
 surprise for some of you after dinner. Boys 
 that can play ball on such a day as this, can't 
 fail to enjoy it 
 
 Various were the conjectures and cogitations. 
 " Don't try to guess what it is," she at last re 
 plied to all. " I'll merely say it is nothing new, 
 and yet it is interesting." 
 
 " Oh ! an invitation to a party," said Polly. 
 " Miss Mordaunt told us on Monday that some 
 body (I can't remember the name) is going to 
 have a birth-day, and when Taddie said he hoped 
 she'd give a party and invite us, Miss Mordaunt 
 guessed she would." 
 
 " I say, Edith," cried Tom, " it isn't fair to 
 tell us you have a surprise and then not let us 
 know what it is about. I call that 'most as bad 
 as opening grandma's letter." 
 
 " Oh, well, you'll think differently when you 
 enjoy it."
 
 154 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " Here's the surprise," said Edith, leaving the 
 table and going to the dining-room window. 
 She slowly raised the shade and they all clus 
 tered around her. 
 
 "Tiptop! Pine! How came you to think of 
 that? Looks as good as new. Come on, and 
 try it right off. Thanks! thanks ever-so-much," 
 were the exclamations. 
 
 " Then you are glad of it? I thought you 
 would be," she said. " I bought the new ribbons 
 on purpose to make the wickets look pretty." 
 
 "Just like you, Edith," said Tom. "And 
 the balls and all newly painted, surely." 
 
 " Yes, look at 'em. Just look at 'em, 
 grandma ! " said Bert. " How handsome they 
 are, mallets and staff and all." 
 
 Grandma, looking over Bert and Roland's 
 shoulders asked, " Who painted them? " 
 
 " But she looked as if she knew," Polly said 
 afterwards, when grandmother smiled and kissed 
 Edith. 
 
 " Oh ! I know ! I know ! " said Tad, clapping 
 his hands. " That was why Polly and I couldn't 
 go to the attic yesterday and Saturday." 
 
 Edith smiled and patted Taddie's shoulder. 
 " You don't mean that you painted them?" said 
 Harold, in amazement, looking sharply at Edith. 
 
 " Why not? " she asked.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 155 
 
 " You ought to have let me do that," said 
 Tom. 
 
 " I don't see why. It was to be my surprise," 
 she rejoined. 
 
 " I shouldn't know it was our old croquet-set, 
 I'm sure," said Roland. " Edith can do 'most 
 anything." 
 
 Tad disappeared. It a moment, he, with 
 Duncan at his heels, was seen bobbing about 
 among the wickets. 
 
 " What is that boy doing now?" asked Tom; 
 " I'm going out to stop or to prevent his mis 
 chief." 
 
 " Nobody wishes to hear the letter read, I 
 suppose," said grandmother. 
 
 " I do," " and I," " and I," was her answer, 
 as the group followed her to the library. 
 
 Tad, with a look of injured innocence, came in 
 at the veranda door; Duncan and Tom in the 
 rear. 
 
 " Say, Edith, please," said Tad, " I wasn't 
 hurting the handsome wickets, only just thought 
 this horse-shoe would be pretty to go with the 
 blue one. For good luck, you know." 
 
 Edith took the horse-shoe he held toward her. 
 
 " Found it in the wood," he said. " It'll be 
 good luck to tie it on, I guess." 
 
 " I've just had a bright thought," said Edith.
 
 156 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " Suppose I give you a blue ribbon and we hang 
 it with that over the door of the room cousin 
 Ruth is to have? " 
 
 " Yes, yes. She is coming with papa, is she? 
 Are you sure? " 
 
 " Just hear what papa has written about it." 
 Tad squeezed himself into the big chair Edith 
 had taken. " Room enough for two," he said, 
 " isn't there? " 
 
 " Plenty, plenty," she rejoined, taking both 
 of his fat hands into one of hers, to ensure still 
 ness, and answering Polly's signal for a seat be 
 side her with a frown. 
 
 All sat in silence while grandmother Marston 
 read. Occasionally Duncan drew a deep breath 
 as if in appreciation, as he lay at her feet and 
 looked at her with blinking eyelids. 
 
 Polly was the first to speak : " Won't it seem 
 funny, just like having another sister with 
 cousin Ruth here?" 
 
 " And the baby. What will Maud say, I won 
 der," said Roland. 
 
 " I guess we shall have to make less noise with 
 so many here," remarked Robert. 
 
 "A wise suggestion," said grandma. "We 
 shall do well to act upon it. I recommend its 
 immediate adoption." 
 
 " Well, it will be nice to have papa at home
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 157 
 
 again. Nothing has seemed right since he went 
 away," said Tom. 
 
 " And mama, too," said Tad. 
 
 " I suppos-e they will all be sad," said Polly ; 
 " because aunt Maria's father is dead." 
 
 " Husband, you mean," corrected Tad, with 
 an air of superior wisdom. 
 
 " Then we must be gentle and quiet in all 
 our ways," said grandma. " I've noticed less 
 care to be gentle since Harold has been gaining 
 and has fewer headaches. We had improved so 
 much in that respect I had hoped we should al 
 ways be so, both in voice and in manners. Let 
 us begin again for aunt Maria's and Ruth's 
 sake." 
 
 " Agreed, agreed," said Robert, in no very 
 gentle tones. u Be cautious, cautious, Robert," 
 said grandmother, "gentleness in all things," 
 and Bert's words were repeated very quietly. 
 
 " Suppose we have a banner for welcome," 
 said Edith. 
 
 " Yes, yes, a banner with * Welcome ' in large 
 letters to hang out over the door," said Polly, 
 and all agreed. 
 
 " It will be better than the ovation when 
 grandma and Oldie went down the garden," said 
 Tad. 
 
 " Of course," said grandma, because your aunt
 
 158 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 Maria and cousin Ruth need something very 
 cheering just now." 
 
 " I hope," added Edith, " they won't be home 
 sick. I thought Ruth might like to play croquet 
 to divert her mind." 
 
 " Then that was why you painted it so nicely, 
 and set it up was it " asked Harold. " I'm 
 proud of you, sister." 
 
 " It was very kind, very thoughtful of you, 
 Edith," said grandmother. " I hope she'll ap 
 preciate it." 
 
 " I wonder who Ruth looks like," observed 
 Tom. " I remember aunt Maria distinctly, just 
 the way she laughed, and how she shook her 
 curls when she said something funny. She was 
 so merry about going to Colorado. I don't sup 
 pose she makes jokes now." 
 
 " Sorrow changes one more than time, much 
 more rapidly," returned his grandmother. " I 
 am glad you remember her happy looks. We 
 must all be cautious about questions or remarks 
 that would be likely to recall her sorrows to 
 mind. Her heaviest sorrow is Willie's disap 
 pearance. I pity her most for that. And I pity 
 the poor thoughtless boy, too. It is such a sad 
 thing to be capable of doing the wrong that he 
 has done. I wish it could be possible that a mis 
 take has been made, that it could be proved that
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 159 
 
 he didn't do that wrong. Perhaps, perhaps it 
 may be some time." 
 
 She stopped to wipe away tears. Then she 
 went on more hopefully " Yes yes we will 
 all hope for that. What a happy day that would 
 be for us all ! "
 
 160 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 POLLY TELLS A STORY. 
 
 EVERY member of the family was astir early, 
 for this, the day to welcome the returning trav 
 ellers, couldn't be any too long, and the dawn 
 gave promise of fine weather. Long before sun 
 rise the robins were singing gleefully as they 
 tilted on the swaying boughs of the larches, or 
 flitted to and from their nests in jubilant 
 unrest; the sound of a distant bell chiming a 
 pleasant refrain to the birdsongs. Then were 
 heard the lowing of kine on their way to pasture ; 
 the bleating of a few sheep hurrying over the 
 hills; and, nearer, the hum of insects, the drone 
 of bees, children's merry voices, and all the med 
 ley of tones and their reverberations that make 
 up the harmony of happy, active life. 
 
 A little later a light breeze swept widely from 
 the west, the sun looked forth from a cloudless 
 sky, and there could be seen the green lawn 
 freshly clipped, the long branches of the ailan- 
 thus trees in their handsomest growth, the fruit
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 161 
 
 just setting on the cherry and apple-trees, the 
 blooming shrubs and garden flowers rejoicing 
 in their new existence of early June, and ready 
 to present Pleasant Hill in its highest beauty 
 for the inspection of its owner, expected, now, 
 hourly. 
 
 This was the near view. In the rear were 
 well-tilled fields giving evidence of faithful labor 
 and promise of abundant harvest in the delicate 
 verdure of the springing corn, and the various 
 shades of deeper green displayed by a diversity 
 of vegetable growth; while beyond these, the 
 belt of evergreens, pines and spruces, with its 
 occasional glimpse of the blue river, still farther 
 in the distance, lent a hint of shade and cool 
 ness and quiet restfulness. 
 
 Grandmother Marston had summoned Susan 
 as she passed her door to draw aside the window 
 curtain and she lay placidly contemplating the 
 green fields with grateful thoughts of the Al 
 mighty Power which had provided so much 
 beauty as well as so much comfort for her old 
 age. There was a light tap at the door, which 
 Susan had closed contrary to the usual custom, 
 and Tad's voice, unnecessarily shrill, consider 
 ing the nearness of his hearer, said, " To 
 morrow's here, to-morrow's here, grandma." 
 
 " Yes, yes, dear," she returned softly. " Come 
 in."
 
 1 62 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " Can't," came in the same shrill tones. 
 " Haven't had my bath yet. Thought you'd like 
 to know 'cause they'll be home by and by. 
 And sometimes you forget, you know." 
 
 " Yes, yes, thank you. I'll try to remember," 
 came grandmother's gentle response. 
 
 Then there was a rush and a patter of bare 
 feet in the hall, followed by silence. 
 
 After a brief space came a still lighter tap 
 and a quiet voice asking " May I come in? " 
 
 It was Polly. " Right in, child, right in," 
 was responded. 
 
 Eager questions of why the door was closed 
 and if she were sick had a little low laugh for 
 answer, and Polly was soon cuddled close to her 
 grandmother's side, one arm around her neck, 
 an indulgence occasionally granted of an early 
 morning, and there was a long confidential talk 
 between them about Polly's broken nose and 
 bruised face, whether the " bruise color " was 
 all gone, and if the nose looked " exactly as it 
 ought." 
 
 " I don't care so much on account of papa and 
 mama," Polly said, " because they know about 
 the soul inside, but other people don't think of 
 that, I'm afraid. For yesterday Darley asked 
 me if I thought such a crooked nose could give 
 me half the goodness of the roses I was cutting
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 163 
 
 from that wild bush on the edge of the corn 
 field. 
 
 Grandmother took Polly's disengaged hand 
 and gave it a tender squeeze. It was not a par 
 ticularly handsome hand. On the contrary, it 
 was short and fleshy, like its owner, and the 
 dimples on its back did not improve its appear 
 ance. Polly had often noticed how very red 
 it seemed in contrast with her grandmother's, 
 and sometimes, in contrast with Annie Nelson's 
 and other girls' hands. She wondered why it 
 was so red, but could think of it without annoy 
 ance. 
 
 " This is a good hand to do whatever you de 
 sire to do with it," said grandmother. " Though 
 you know it is red, and you know that every one 
 who looks on it sees it is red, yet that knowl 
 edge doesn't make you uncomfortable." 
 
 " No, I should be a silly to feel uncomfortable 
 for that." 
 
 " I thought you'd say so. Just think of your 
 nose in the same way. Or, rather, don't give any 
 thought to your nose, it is just as capable of 
 performing what it was created to perform as 
 ever it was; and if ever a person by word, or 
 look, suggests a doubt of it, as Darley did yes 
 terday, pay no heed, or give a merry answer 
 and it will soon cease to be noticed." 
 
 " But Ishould like to 'have mama when she
 
 164 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 first sees me say * How nice you look, Polly. 
 Now, your nose is all right/ " 
 
 " Take care, my dear. Don't let the wish to 
 have people think well of you, of your appear 
 ance, rather, lead you to be vain and so you get 
 careless of being all well, all right, and only take 
 pains to appear so; which will be very wrong 
 and very sad. Even if you are a little girl, you 
 know it would be so." 
 
 " The boys are putting up the oak-garlands," 
 said Edith, who had allowed Maud to follow her 
 light knock immediately and had come with her 
 morning greeting. 
 
 " Dear me ! " exclaimed Polly, springing to 
 her feet, and with a little butterfly kiss on the 
 hand still grasping hers, she was free to fly 
 which she did more clumsily than a butterfly 
 could, it must be confessed to Edith's room. 
 
 Tom had suggested that he should come home 
 from school at the intermission and remain the 
 rest of the day. He argued that as his father 
 and mother would probably arrive in Hillsford 
 at two o'clock, they would proceed to Pleasant 
 Hill as soon as possible, and expect an early 
 dinner; would wish to meet all the family im 
 mediately. Of course the other boys were of the 
 game opinion, and grandmother a,nd Edith gave 
 consent for all to be excused from attending 
 school. Tom also proposed sending Darley with
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 165 
 
 the buggy to the railroad station to bring the 
 travellers home (he would walk, "three miles 
 wasn't much to take occasionally.") 
 
 Lottie was delighted to show what she could 
 do towards the reception. She made Mr. Mars- 
 ton's favorite pudding and Mrs. Marston's favor 
 ite salad. Never was roast of beef better treated, 
 and spring vegetables the same. Bert and Rol 
 and were proud of the asparagus and radishes 
 they 'had raised, and Lottie managed them with 
 due regard. Everything moved on auspiciously, 
 without break or accident. The two hours that 
 must afterward elapse before they could look for 
 the returning travellers seemed tedious. But 
 they were as patient as possible till Maud, 
 dressed in her best white gown, which she in 
 sisted on wearing, came to the veranda singing, 
 " My sweetie mama ! she never, never come ! " 
 
 Roland couldn't bear that. He began to pace 
 the veranda. Tom threw down his book, yawned 
 and stretched himself on the lounge. Robert set 
 off to reconnoiter the precincts of the pantry 
 and dining-room. Taddie smoothed his hair and 
 stirred it up again every few minutes as he stood 
 at the end of the veranda, watching all that 
 passed on the road. But neither of them spoke. 
 
 Grandmother was knitting contentedly ; Polly, 
 on a stool at her side, measured the yarn and 
 guessed now and then how many rounds would
 
 166 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 be knit before they could catch a glimpse of the 
 buggy. Finally Polly shouted, " There's the 
 team, turning the corner." 
 
 Harold, feeling better than for a week, had 
 kept his room until now. He heard Polly's 
 shout, and came forward, with straining eyes 
 fixed on the approaching vehicle, and with the 
 others was compelled to believe that Darley was 
 really alone. Oh! the disappointment! and 
 wonderment. All talked rapidly, surmizing and 
 conjecturing what could have happened. 
 
 Brown, immediately behind, angrily urged 
 and spurred his* horse, making a great noise. 
 Darley came along quietly, and it was his voice 
 that checked the babel of sounds. " Didn't 
 come," he said. " A collision down Albany way 
 stopped travel. Can't get here till to-morrow. 
 Lucky they weren't coming on that first train, 
 some that took it won't travel any more, not in 
 this world." 
 
 " Are you sure? How did you hear such a sad 
 story? " asked grandmother. 
 
 " Telegrams to the station, ma'am. Bulle 
 tins up too. Worst mishap in a year." 
 
 " Too bad, too bad," was the comment of all 
 the children. 
 
 Roland resumed his walk on the veranda with 
 a most disconsolate face. Tad, who at Polly's 
 shout had seized again the banner, brandishing
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 167 
 
 it as if it were a warlike weapon, now brought 
 it to Roland. He took it sadly, and returned it 
 to the dining-room. 
 
 " Let's follow him in procession said Edith. 
 " Dinner will be on the table presently." 
 
 " So soon after lunch? I guess nobody wants 
 dinner yet." 
 
 " Our appetites won't be absent long after we 
 are seated at the table," said grandmother. 
 
 " It's the best thing to be done now," said 
 Harold. 
 
 "If papa were only here!" Polly exclaimed, 
 bursting into tears. 
 
 Tad's face was very red and his trim little 
 figure seemed to swell and expand with his 
 efforts to control his grief. He had such a big 
 lump in his throat, and such a sharp pain there, 
 he thought he was going to lose his breath. But, 
 Polly, blundering along, tripped at a rug and 
 fell against his shoulder, giving him a great 
 start and driving away the lump and the pain. 
 And Tom's merry cry, " Now, now, Polly wog ! " 
 with a finger at his own nose led Polly to feel 
 of that much afflicted member in such a comical 
 way that Tad laughed outright. The laugh was 
 contagious. Soon all at the table were in a 
 roar, for Maud was mimicking Tom in both 
 voice and gesture. So the dinner passed off 
 well, though the dainties specially prepared for
 
 i68 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 their parents, by unanimous consent were con 
 signed to the refrigerator, " for further discus 
 sion," Tom said. 
 
 Sunset came at last. Everybody seemed un 
 usually silent. 
 
 " Tired, Oldie? " asked Tom, giving the ham 
 mock a swing in which, after supper, Harold lay, 
 quietly looking at the changing hues of the 
 clouds and the shadows falling upon the grass 
 of the meadow. 
 
 " Somewhat," returned Harold, " getting re 
 created for to-morrow, I hope." 
 
 "Oh, I say, Polly wog, where are you?" went 
 on Tom, looking over the lawn and gazing to 
 ward the garden ; " Come! it's just the time for a 
 story." 
 
 From somewhere in the rear of the house came 
 Polly's voice, " All right, I'll be ready in a 
 minute." 
 
 " Come on then. Hurry up here, Taddie. All 
 hands on deck, piazza, I mean, for story telling." 
 
 " Who's to begin? " from several voices. Tom 
 marshalled them to convenient places, his grand 
 mother in the middle of the company. " She is 
 to be Schherazade," he said. 
 
 " No, no," she protested. " You mustn't ex 
 pect so much from me. I'll begin, and if any of 
 you get lost following Fancy, I'll try to rescue 
 you." This was satisfactory, so she began
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 169 
 
 " On the right bank of a beautiful river, Rol 
 and's hand was raised. " Which is the right 
 bank of a river, please? " 
 
 " That side of a river which is at a person's 
 right hand in looking toward the river's mouth," 
 said Tom. 
 
 " Right," said grandmother ; " not far from 
 the river's mouth a small collection of houses; 
 that from year to year was increased slowly by 
 the addition of a cottage, a barn, or a shed ac 
 cording to the gains of the people who lived 
 there, and employed " 
 
 She bowed to Harold. He continued " Em 
 ployed themselves in fishing, and in making salt 
 for curing the fish, which was all the means they 
 had for the support of their families." 
 
 Tad had held his hand very high. " How did 
 they make salt? I thought salt grew in no! 
 was dug out of caves and mines." 
 
 " Correct. Or, rather, not far from right," 
 said grandmother. " Salt mines and great beds 
 of salt are found in some parts of the world. It 
 is also made from sea-water, drawn into large 
 shallow vats and exposed to the sun. As the 
 water evaporates the salt remains in crystals at 
 the sides and base of the vat." 
 
 " Now," said Tom, " it is your turn, Edith." 
 
 " In one of those families were six boys, all 
 learning to be fishermen, and five girls, who did
 
 170 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 nothing but make nets for their father and 
 brothers to catch fish in; and scold their 
 mother " 
 
 " Oh, Edith, don't have that," said Polly. 
 
 " Yes, yes," said Tom, " Scold their mother 
 because of an old black cat that she petted and 
 must always have the first and best of every 
 thing they had to eat; till one day" 
 
 " I can't tell anything about that cat," said 
 Roland. 
 
 " I can, I can," said Bert. 
 
 " Go ahead then," said Tom. 
 
 " One day when there had been a storm, a 
 dreadful storm, that broke through the salt vat, 
 and blew half the roof of the cottage off, the cat 
 disappeared, and the mother cried all night." 
 
 " I know now," said Roland in great glee ; 
 " she cried all night because the father and the 
 boys were in their little boats on the stormy sea, 
 in all the darkness, and she couldn't expect them 
 to come home again, on account of the cat get 
 ting lost, because in that country where they 
 lived everybody thought a black cat was a wise 
 creature, and knew all about storms and ship 
 wrecks and everything." 
 
 " Oho! what country is that?" asked Tad. 
 
 "You'll know when you study f/eeography," 
 said Polly ; " It's my turn now. But they did 
 come home all safe and sound. And the father
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 171 
 
 had in his boat a gentleman and a little girl- 
 baby. A ship had been wrecked in the storm 
 and the people in the ship had to take life pre 
 servers and try to swim for the shore, and he 
 overtook the man with the girl-baby and took 
 them in and brought them to his house." 
 
 "Yes, yes! And and a a " 
 
 " Stop, stop, Taddie ! Don't be in such haste," 
 said his grandmother. 
 
 Taddie smiled. His cheeks were red and his 
 eyes very bright. 
 
 " You are all ready, dear," she continued, " to 
 tell us something interesting. Take time for it. 
 Speak slowly and clearly. Now ! " 
 
 " It wasn't the gentleman's own baby ; and " 
 
 " Oh ! yes it was I meant it to be his very 
 own," said Polly. 
 
 " Never mind. Let Taddie tell it his own way. 
 When your turn comes you may do the same," 
 said Edith. 
 
 " No it was not his own baby. He was a 
 very kind gentleman and he was coming from a 
 country where all the girl babies that can be 
 found are thrown into the river, and the alliga 
 tors eat them." 
 
 " What a dreadful story," groaned Polly. 
 " Isn't he getting lost following Fancy? Why 
 don't you rescue him, grandma? "
 
 172 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 Grandmother smiled ; " Let's hear what comes 
 next," she said. 
 
 " It's just so, Pollywog. I heard Miss Leon 
 ard the other day telling the geography class 
 about that river and the people and the alliga 
 tors. And the gentleman pitied the poor 
 woman who had to give her baby to the alli 
 gator, pitied the baby, too, and caught it before 
 the alligator came close enough for it, and took 
 it to the ship that was going to the country 
 where the fishermen were. He meant to give 
 the baby a nice home with his children. It's 
 grandma's turn now. Maud isn't old enough." 
 
 Maud, sitting in Susan's lap on the top step 
 of the veranda, had been very still, listening to 
 all that was said. Hearing her name pronouced, 
 she raised both arms, her little hands fluttering 
 all yight," she said, 
 like wings. " Kin man catch 'e baby, keep 'e 
 
 " Very good, very good," said Harold, and all 
 the others smiled. 
 
 " Yes," said grandmother, " the kind man had 
 caught the baby and meant to keep her all right. 
 But the shock of the breaking up of the vessel, 
 the loss of his property that was stored in the 
 vessel's hold, and the exhaustion resulting from 
 his attempts to reach land brought on a fever 
 from which he did not recover." 
 
 "Oh!" sighed Polly, dolefully.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 173 
 
 " Harold's turn now," said Edith. 
 
 "It was very sad for the gentleman to know 
 that he could not reach his own home," said 
 Harold. " But before he died he called the fish 
 erman and his wife and his six sons and ten 
 daughters " 
 
 " Five ! five daughters only five ! " shouted 
 Tad and Polly. 
 
 " Oh, yes, five daughters and told them all he 
 knew about the baby, and her country, and that 
 he had intended to bring her up as nicely and as 
 kindly as if she were his daughter; and if she 
 lived to be a woman, she should return to her 
 native place and teach the people there what she 
 had learned of God and the right way to live. 
 He told them about his home where it was, and 
 of his friends, and thought if one of the fisher 
 man's family should go to these friends they 
 would do for the baby all that he had hoped to 
 do. But they 
 
 " They had no money to pay for such a long 
 journey," said Edith. " So the baby lived in the 
 fisherman's family and grew up and was like 
 another daughter, till one day " 
 
 " One day," broke in Roland, " the fisherman's 
 wife told her all about the wreck, and the gen 
 tleman, and what he had wished to do for her. 
 But there was no school " 
 
 " No school in the village," said Robert, " so
 
 174 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 she couldn't be taught to read, nor any of those 
 things the gentleman had wished her to learn 
 and then go to her native place and teach them 
 to the people there. But there was a large 
 city" 
 
 "A large city farther up the river," said 
 Polly. " And a lady who lived there rode down 
 to the village to see if any of the people needed 
 help. And when she saw this little black-eyed 
 girl,who looked so different from the others, she 
 asked all about her. Now, Taddie, tell us 
 more." 
 
 * Yes; and she loved her right away, because 
 she saw the beautiful soul that shone in her eyes. 
 And she took her to live with herself and gave 
 her books and sent her to school. And, most 
 likely, by and by, when she is old enough, she 
 will go to her native place and teach the people 
 all that the gentleman wished." 
 
 ti Very well ended," said grandmother. 
 " Gymnastics now, children. Then the day's 
 closing exercises, you know."
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 175 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 COMING HOME. 
 
 "WHY! Here's Darley coming back. And 
 Tom's with him," said Robert. " What does it 
 mean, I wonder." He stood at the dining-room 
 window looking down the road. All ready for 
 going to school, he was waiting for Roland, who 
 was in the garden gathering a few flowers to 
 take to his teacher, Mr. Parks. 
 
 Another shout " Oh, hurrah ! hurrah ! here 
 they are. Coming in a hack, right behind Dar 
 ley," he added, as with one bound he seized Rol 
 and's banner and rushed down the front walk. 
 
 Polly, hearing the shouts, summoned Taddie 
 who was laboriously brushing his scanty locks, 
 and soon they both, with Edith and Roland, ran 
 pell-mell to the driveway. Robert, flourishing 
 the banner, had reached the hack, regardless of 
 the hackman's warnings and his restive horses. 
 Mr. Marston seeing the danger, leaped from the 
 hack, and without a word turned aside the ban 
 ner and took Bert to his arms. The hack ad-
 
 176 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 vanced slowly much more slowly than he up 
 the ascent. " I can't scold you, Bertie," he said 
 as he stood the boy on the veranda. " But ,if 
 ever you do such a thing again, I'm afraid you'll 
 be beyond scolding. It's almost a miracle that 
 you weren't killed. 
 
 The children swarmed around their father 
 with shouts and questions. He placed the ban 
 ner by the door and tried to answer them Tad, 
 tugging at his coat, Polly covering his hands 
 with kisses. Tom reached him in time for a 
 hand shake before the hack was at the door. 
 Then he gave the baby, fast asleep, to Edith's 
 outstretched arms and set Ruth beside Polly 
 while his father led his aunt in. Mrs. Marston 
 could get no farther than the veranda, so many 
 arms were around her, so many eager kisses on 
 her face. And then Susan brought Maud, over 
 joyed to see her mother, but mystified by the 
 presence of the baby. Lottie came too, and even 
 Brown and Darley for congratulations. 
 
 Mrs. Mordaunt had gone directly with Mr. 
 Marston to Grandmother Marston's room; 
 Harold, hearing his father's voice, joined them 
 there. " Well, well, my son," was the father's 
 cherry salutation. "What's the gain? Do you 
 get a walk to the pines every day? " 
 
 " Not every day. But I have been there, am
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 177 
 
 gaining, I think. Not so fast as I wish, how 
 ever." 
 
 His father said nothing more about his health, 
 but watched him anxiously as he listened to the 
 conversation between Mrs. Mordaunt and her 
 mother. In a few minutes they all went down 
 to the library. 
 
 " And we haven't had the singing either," it 
 was Taddie's doleful response. He and Polly 
 had been telling their aunt about the prepara 
 tions for the welcome. The garlands and the 
 banner had been duly admired by her as well as 
 by their mother, and the account of yesterday's 
 disappointment, graphically told, received ready 
 regrets. 
 
 "Can't we have the singing now?" said Mr. 
 Marston. " I see nothing to hinder." 
 
 Edith carried the sleeping baby to the nursery 
 and then played " Home, Sweet Home," while 
 all sang. After that the details of the railroad 
 accident that had detained them had to be re 
 lated, and something that his father said about 
 the blackened faces of the brakeman and conduc 
 tor of the train reminded Taddie of his adven 
 ture in the burnt room and the wheel of flame. 
 If Lottie hadn't rung the bell to summon his 
 father and mother to a hasty lunch she had pre 
 pared for them, he would have told of it imme 
 diately and asked forgiveness.
 
 178 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " Isn't it time for these boys to go to school? " 
 Mr. Marston said to his wife, as they passed to 
 the dining-room. " Of course it's too late for 
 Tom." 
 
 But there was such an earnest plea for re 
 maining at home, he ordered them to take their 
 books and study an hour, while he and their 
 mother had opportunity for a quiet talk with 
 Edith and Harold about matters and things. 
 
 Taddie had no lesson-book at home. He 
 curled himself up with Duncan (who had just 
 escaped from his place in the barn) on a corner 
 of the veranda, cogitating the burnt-room ad 
 venture and thinking what he should say about 
 it. Polly, pleased to have Ruth ask about her 
 dolls, forgot her nose, and followed her to the 
 dining-room. She sat demurely on the lounge 
 behind her father's chair, saying nothing, but 
 listening intently to what he said about Colo 
 rado, and what his friend, Mr. Stearns, had ad 
 vised in regard to southern California as a 
 health resort. " If you don't gain faster before 
 winter, Harold, I guess you and I must take a 
 trip out there, and escape our harsh winds and 
 sudden changes of temperature." 
 
 " Oh ! I think now that summer is here, I 
 shall gain faster," Harold said with a gay little 
 laugh. " I want to try gymnastics, dumb bells, 
 at least."
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 179 
 
 "You shall, you shall. I wonder how the 
 boys have gone on; they mustn't neglect those." 
 " By the way," he said, turning to Edith, " What 
 did Taddie mean in what he wrote about the 
 flaming wheel? That couldn't have been in a 
 circus, I think." 
 
 The mystery was soon explained. Both Mr. 
 and Mrs. Marston laughed heartily at Edith's 
 description of Taddie's forlorn appearance when 
 she and Miss Mordaunt first laid eyes on him in 
 the unknown passage way. " We must get rid 
 of all those chemicals," he said, nodding to Tom. 
 " I had no idea that the rubbish Dr. Houghton 
 mentioned as being there, consisted of such ma 
 terials. So Squire Hamilton had a son that dis 
 appeared unaccountably, Maria, not an uncom 
 mon thing you see," he added. " I ought to have 
 been told of the danger in those rooms. I be 
 lieve I'll have a thorough look at them now." 
 
 Tad wondered where his father and mother 
 were. He still sat fondling Dun, yet anxiously 
 pondering, dreading to tell his father of his en 
 trance to those unknown rooms, but knowing 
 that he ought. The others were playing at cro 
 quet. As soon as Ruth could leave the baby in 
 grandmother's care, she and Polly joined in the 
 croquet. 
 
 Tad, so unusually retiring and silent, at 
 tracted Harold's attention. He went toward
 
 180 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 him. Tad looked up as lie heard his footsteps 
 " Oh, hum ! this isn't any sort of a day it's 
 a dreadfully broken up one, isn't it, Oldie? " 
 
 " Broken up? " repeated Harold as if not cer 
 tain of Tad's meaning. 
 
 " Yes. Nothing goes right, 'Twasn't a bit of 
 a good welcome. And all because of that rail 
 road accident, and they couldn't get home yes 
 terday, when everything was nice and ready for 
 them." 
 
 " Of course you mean papa and mama couldn't 
 get home yesterday. But you are glad they are 
 here now, I suppose. That's enough to make us 
 all happy What is the reason that you are 
 not?" 
 
 " It isn't exactly being unhappy, Oldie. Do 
 you " in his uneasiness he pinched Duncan's 
 ear, instead of stroking it, and the dog yelped 
 and leaped from his arms toward Edith's flower 
 stand, upsetting two or three of her choicest 
 plants 1 . Seeing this destruction, he gave him a 
 heavy blow. The dog cried piteously and hur 
 ried to the garden. 
 
 "Why, Taddie! How could you? " exclaimed 
 Harold. " Such a good creature as he is ! And 
 saved your life, probably, in those shut in rooms. 
 I thought you had said something about getting 
 him a collar with that engraved upon it." 
 
 Tad's tears flowed fast. Compunctions for his
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 181 
 
 treatment of Dun, whom he loved dearly, were 
 too much for his sensitive soul. He didn't see 
 the approach of his father, whose kind hand was 
 on his shoulder before Harold could say another 
 word. 
 
 Mr. Marston held in one hand a curious ar 
 rangement of tubes and wires diverging from a 
 small circular disc, or hollow globe, of metal. 
 " Look up here, Taddie boy. Why, what ails 
 you, my son?" 
 
 Tad had caught a glimpse of the machine in 
 his father's hand, and turned very pale. 
 
 " Is this the flaming wheel you wrote me 
 about?" 
 
 Tad still sobbed, but he managed to say 
 " Mrs. Sinclair called it something like that. 
 Please forgive me, papa. I didn't mean to be 
 doing wrong. I I I was just finding out for 
 myself." 
 
 " I know all about it, my boy. And I'm sure 
 I forgave you as soon as I had read what you 
 wrote. But what is your trouble now? " 
 
 " I don't know only I wish I hadn't struck 
 Dun a minute ago. He is so clever and was so 
 kind that day when he and I got mixed up in the 
 wheel." 
 
 Mr. Marston had placed the wheel against the 
 side of the house. He passed an arm around 
 Taddie, and the boy leaned against his father's
 
 1 82 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 breast, sobbed once more, and drawing a deep 
 sigh, smiled in the kind face bending over him. 
 
 " It's dreadful hard to want to find out things 
 and know you mustn't not till you're a man, or 
 a great boy," he said. 
 
 " Oho ! " said Mr. Marston, merrily. " You'll 
 soon get beyond that trouble. You've been get 
 ting on famously toward being a great boy while 
 I have been away. I can see that plainly. I've 
 brought the wheel here to examine more closely 
 by and by. But I must see what Brown and 
 Darley have been doing in my absence. Come 
 we'll go together to the barn, and then over to 
 the fields." 
 
 Mr. Marston's attention was suddenly called 
 toward a sort of kennel in one of the stalls of 
 the barn where Dun now lay, the dog's whine 
 striking him unpleasantly, because he disap 
 proved of his company for horses and cows 
 that is, in the indoor life of these animals. " I 
 can't have this any longer," he said. " As we 
 decided to keep him, I ought to have provided 
 him comfortable sleeping quarters elsewhere, 
 long before now." 
 
 " Mrs. Sinclair has a dog's house, but her dog 
 has died ; she told me so, when Dunnie and I sat 
 for our pictures the first time." He stopped sud 
 denly. " Oh ! I forgot. I guess I ought not to 
 have told you, because that picture is to be a sur-
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 183 
 
 prise. Please don't tell mama, nor anybody 
 promise me, please." 
 
 The desired promise was given. " I believe 
 going from home has made me childish, Tad," he 
 said. " I mustn't give way to any more of your 
 notions. I wish to see Brown and talk with 
 him. If you can keep silent you may stay." 
 
 Tad hung his head. He understood the re 
 proof. His father had often checked his too 
 ready share in conversation. 
 
 Brown came forward, and then Darley. They 
 had been idling around expecting Mr. Marston 
 would wish to know something in regard to Dun 
 can's place in the barn, and wouldn't go again 
 to their work till they had explained matters. 
 It seemed, according to their statements, that 
 soon after Mr. Marston left home they had sus 
 picions that some one had a false key to the 
 barn-door. The hay showed unmistakable signs 
 of disturbance as if it had been slept upon at 
 night ; and there was no other way of accounting 
 for it, because there were no marks of entrance 
 by any other means. Besides this, Jersey Nan, 
 the favorite cow, had grown troublesome about 
 milking was especially uneasy at the morning 
 milking. Brown first noticed these things. In 
 consultation with Darley, his suggestions to 
 make accommodations there for the dog met 
 with Darley's approval. They kept their sus-
 
 1 84 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 picions to themselves " for fear of alarming the 
 women folks and the children," Darley said. 
 But thought that he Mr. Marston ought to be 
 acquainted with them. Since the dog had been 
 kept there nights, the hay had not been dis 
 turbed. 
 
 Mr. Marston said they had acted wisely the 
 dog should remain there for the present. This 
 conversation was carried on in- very low tones. 
 It was but natural that Taddie should listen. 
 From the few words he could catch now and 
 then, he only understood that for some very 
 important reason it was best to keep Duncan 
 in the barn. Then they went over the fields 
 spent the remainder of the morning there and in 
 the orchard. 
 
 Harold's great desire to gratify his father by 
 showing how much he was able to do, led him 
 to walk to the orchard just before dinner. Un 
 der a spreading apple tree Brown had placed a 
 rustic seat. He had longed to walk as far as 
 that because from that point a pretty view of a 
 bend in the river and a few houses on its oppo 
 site bank could be obaained. He accomplished 
 the walk with much less fatigue than he had ex 
 pected, and his father and Tad were delighted 
 to see him there. And he was sorry to hear the 
 summons 1 to dinner. But sending Tad in ad 
 vance to say he would be along soon, he took his
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 185 
 
 father's advice to return to the house. (They 
 walked slowly because of Harold's lung diffi 
 culty rapid movements gave him hurried, la 
 bored breathing; so he came to the house as 
 comfortable as he went from it.) As they pro 
 ceeded along his father told him the most im 
 portant particulars' of William Mordaunt's case. 
 By the time they were within hearing of the 
 rest of the family, now assembling on the 
 veranda, and at the library windows, he had a 
 clear idea of the affair. 
 
 " I don't wonder aunt Maria looks so sad and 
 has such a mournful voice," Harold said when 
 his father had finished. " But perhaps those 
 two clerks took the money and contrived to lay 
 the blame on him. If he has been such a good 
 boy as his mother says he has, I can't think he'd 
 do such a thing. And then Mr. Doakson felt he 
 was so trustworthy, and so good every way." 
 
 " O my son ! you don't know, and I trust you 
 never will know, what straits betting and gam 
 bling and speculating bring. The temptation 
 to get money by such means ' this once,' and 
 1 this once only,' the poor deluded victim says 
 to himself, risking his own lawful property, 
 sometimes gaining, more often losing, draws 
 him unawares, nearer and nearer to the actual 
 theft."
 
 1 86 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " I suppose any other sport, if managed in a 
 similar way, would be just as bad as baseball." 
 
 Certainly. But setting aside the immorality 
 of the betting, baseball is an objectionable game 
 on account of its roughness. Watch a game, and 
 see how like beasts infuriated beasts the con 
 testants beat and bruise each other. Disloca 
 tions, fractures, and severe bruises disable and 
 disfigure sometimes for life enthusiastic base 
 ball players. You know very well that I ap 
 prove of athletic sports but in a reasonable 
 way, and in a manly consideration of the well- 
 being of others 1 . I am glad to see the croquet 
 set in use again. It is a sensible diversion for 
 young or old, and gives good healthy exercise, 
 not to encroach too much on the hours of 
 study, however. Roland and Robert are so en 
 thusiastic over it to-day, I'm afraid they thought 
 I should wink at short studies for the sake of its 
 benefits." 
 
 He laughed and then called to Robert, who 
 flushed and panting stood at the hall-door. The 
 boy bounded over the lawn and was instantly at 
 his side. 
 
 " How did the game go? " he asked, merrily 
 patting the boy's shoulder. 
 
 " Fiist-rate. Half and half, two games." 
 
 "Turn and turn eh? First-rate indeed. 
 Beat and let beat. That's the best of play."
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 187 
 
 u Oh ! but it was fair every single knock." 
 
 "We all tried" said Roland, who had fol 
 lowed Robert. 
 
 "No doubt, no doubt. Of course you did. 
 And the lessons? How much study have they 
 had to-day? A fair share, I hope." 
 
 " It was review geography. We knew it all 
 only had to read it over twice," said Bert. 
 
 " Fortunate, very, considering the occasion. 
 That's one of the advantages of faithfulness in 
 small things. Short lessons well learned make a 
 long review easy you see." 
 
 Lottie made the best of the remains of yester 
 day's dinner. She found the early peas, that 
 the boys hadn't expected to gather at present, 
 just right for the table. Brown brought in a 
 variety of vegetables that he had been cultivat 
 ing, and so, without need of apology, when the 
 asparagus and radishes were again set forth, Mr. 
 Marston declared he should like a picked-up 
 dinner every day, if it would be like this. 
 
 "There's a Troy pudding, too," said Polly, 
 "saved up from yesterday. We wouldn't have 
 the least bit of a taste of it till you came." 
 
 " Heroic self-denial in you all, I'm sure," he 
 rejoined. " I don't know but we might dispense 
 with the pudding sauce, having such sweet 
 thoughts to grace it." 
 
 " These vegetables grandmother thinks are
 
 i88 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 1 worth while,' " said Roland, with an arch look 
 toward the old lady. 
 
 " That can't be said of all vegetables," re 
 turned his father. " These pay you well for the 
 time and work they have cost you. I'm proud 
 to see such a fine display the result of your 
 skill and care." 
 
 " Don't you think gardening might be exer 
 cise enough without gymnastics?" said Roland, 
 timidly. 
 
 All eyes were fixed on Mr. Marston. It was 
 an important question, and nearly every one at 
 the table was interested to know his opinion of 
 the matter. 
 
 " No, oh, no," he said, with great decision in 
 his tones. " Gardening is good exercise, but it 
 brings only a certain portion of the muscles into 
 play ; and these are too often exercised to excess, 
 while others suffer for the want of exercise. I 
 see that Roland's right shoulder is higher than 
 the left. The muscles of that arm and shoulder 
 have had more exercise (consequently are more 
 developed) than those of his left? What we 
 want is equal exercise for both; and this can't 
 be obtained in gardening. Yet gardening is 
 good, and with that we'll have the exercises that 
 develop all parts of the body equally." 
 
 " Mr. Parks says every family ought to have 
 a gymnasium," said Robert, " to keep the body
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 189 
 
 healthy, and if we want healthy and strong 
 minds, we must try to have healthy bodies." 
 
 " He is right. I believe there would be less 
 bad behavior, less wrong-doing in the world, if 
 people had more healthy 'minds. And moral, as 
 well as mental, health is closely connected with 
 that of the body. I think I must look after that 
 left shoulder of yours 1 , Roland. You and I will 
 have a course of dumb bells and Indian clubs 
 together every evening." 
 
 Mr. Sterling, the minister, was announced, so 
 all adjourned ao the parlor. He had asked for 
 Harold, not aware that Mr. and Mrs. Marston 
 had returned. He was about to form a class of 
 lads for botanizing and geologizing in the neigh 
 borhood, and hoped he was well enough to join 
 them. Their exercises would probably be inter 
 esting. Harold's face brighaened at the mention 
 of such a class. He looked imploringly to his 
 father who gave no sign. 
 
 " I thank you very much, sir," Harold replied. 
 " I should enjoy the excursions, but really, I 
 could not undertake to do what would be re 
 quired. Perhaps by and by I may be strong 
 enough. I shall be pleased to hear what the 
 class do or discover." 
 
 " Why not be one of the class and yet stay at 
 home?" said Mr. Marston. "You might not
 
 190 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 find it too fatiguing to examine and classify 
 specimens that the others procure." 
 
 "Certainly. I could do that," said Harold, 
 turning to Mr. Sterling. " If young ladies might 
 join, Edith would like it, I think." 
 
 " These lads prefer to be by themselves," he 
 returned, smiling affably. " I believe Sophia, 
 my daughter, would be glad to have your sister's 
 company in the walks that she takes for discov 
 ering some of the beauty that Nature keeps for 
 those who seek for it on these hills and along the 
 riverside." 
 
 A long conversation followed between him and 
 Mr. Marston as to the resources of this part of 
 the state, and the relative value of property in 
 New England and the Western States; which 
 gradually led to the discussion of morals and re 
 ligion and their present status in those two por 
 tions of the country in comparison with their 
 wealth and increase of population. Before he 
 left he said Mr. Marston's proposal that Harold 
 be a stay-at-home member of the class, he would 
 present for immediate action and had little 
 doubt of its acceptance.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 191 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A HAPPY EVENING. 
 
 MR. MARSTON 'had been examining the wheel 
 of flame its disc (or was it hollow a flattened 
 globe? he wondered) its tubes and wires, with 
 all his boys around him to offer hints and con 
 jectures. Now, he wanted his wife's opinion of 
 the machine, and sent Tad to tell her so. This 
 led to a gathering of the rest of the family. 
 
 " Don't go too near, Polly, was Mrs. Marston's 
 cautious direction, as the eager girl was making 
 her way in advance of Harold. " We don't un 
 derstand it, and it may do you harm." 
 
 Her husband smiled. " Most likely it has ex 
 hausted itself years ago. Perhaps in the fire 
 that it caused, of which Mrs. Sinclair told you," 
 he said. 
 
 The metal of which the curious wheel-like 
 thing was composed, showed plainly the effects 
 of heat in stains and smut, and the wires con 
 necting the tubes were in several places nearly 
 burned off. " It seems to me," said Mr. Mars- 
 ton, " that it was moved by electricity. A bat 
 tery stored in this tube (here he laid his hand
 
 192 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 on the centre-piece) conveyed the fluid through 
 the tubes to the wire that served as a felloe, and 
 also along these other wires that evidently con 
 nected the wheel with something a carriage, 
 we'll say for the purpose of propelling it. But 
 I don't understand the need of the tubes. How 
 does my explanation strike you, Mary?" 
 
 " It seems reasonable," she replied. " But I 
 know very little about electricity. You are sure 
 the machine is perfectly harmless, now? " 
 
 " O yes, indeed ! Probably it collapsed com 
 pletely in that fire." 
 
 " I wish Mr. Goodwin could see it. He knows 
 a great deal about machines," said Bert. 
 
 " And about electricity, too," said Roland. 
 
 " Why can't Tom go to Mr. Goodwin's shop 
 some day and ask him to come home with him 
 and see it?" inquired Taddie. 
 
 " He can, and he may. Mr. Goodwin is such 
 an intelligent man, he would be pleased to see 
 the 'concern, I've no doubt. And I should be 
 glad to know what he would think of it," replied 
 his father. 
 
 Then there was a little more talk about the 
 wheel and Mrs. Marston asked her husband if 
 he intended to clear these two rooms. He said 
 he hadn't yet fully made up his mind had some 
 idea of letting them remain for the present. If 
 not disturbed, their contents would do no harm.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 193 
 
 Perhaps if Mr. Goodwin came he could suggest 
 an advantageous disposal of the most valuable 
 of the instruments and tools, if not of the chemi 
 cals. He should return the wheel to its place. 
 He soon took it there and then had something to 
 say about Mr. Sterling's class in botany and 
 geology hoped a knowledge of the geology of 
 the neighborhood would lead the class to study 
 its mineral resurces, and asked Harold if any 
 more specimens indicating silver and gold like 
 that shown him the day before he started for 
 Denver, had been found recently. 
 
 From this the talk drifted to school studies, 
 and he took Polly on his knee and silently ex 
 amined her unfortunate nose. " It seems to be 
 all right now," said grandmother. " A slight 
 accident yesterday gave it a threatening look for 
 a while, but did no real damage." 
 
 " Then it is time to think of going again to 
 school. What do you say to that, little daugh 
 ter? " 
 
 Polly smiled a delighted assent she would go 
 the very next morning. Kuth begged to accom 
 pany her. After a little demur, because of the 
 care and trouble the baby might be in her ab 
 sence, Mrs. Mordaunt gave a reluctant assent. 
 
 Roland had been uneasy while these questions 
 were getting a decision. He could hold his peace 
 no longer. To-morrow was the Public, when he
 
 194 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 would be one of the readers, and ever since 
 Polly's nose began to get better he had kept in 
 mind what had been said that she would be 
 present at the Reading. And he had depended 
 on it, because he wanted to know how his read 
 ing compared with that of a boy in the class be 
 low him. 
 
 On this account Mr. Marston said both she 
 and Ruth might attend the Public and defer go 
 ing to Miss Leonard's room till the following 
 day. 
 
 Edith's request came next. If her mother 
 would spare her she would like to begin going to 
 Hillsford to continue her studies in the High 
 school there. She hoped she hadn't lost her 
 place in her classes by being so long absent. 
 Her father inquired how much time she had 
 given to mathematics in his absence. She gave 
 him a satisfactory answer and was made happy 
 when he said she needn't lose another day. If 
 her mother needed more help he would provide 
 it, somehow, and Mrs. Mordaunt said hurriedly 
 that she should feel offended if not allowed to 
 assist in housekeeping; as she was now well 
 enough to do a great deal. And then Edith went 
 to the piano and they all gathered around her 
 and sang their father's favorite songs. The 
 evening hymn closed the music. The younger 
 children went to their rooms. Grandmother
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 195 
 
 soon followed their example. The rest of the 
 family sat a few minutes 1 , talking over the events 
 of the day. And they, too, retired in peace and 
 quiet happiness that brought refreshing sleep. 
 Edith was so delighted with the thought of 
 going once more to school, meeting her friends 
 there, and resuming studies in their company 
 that she rose early, and performed many little 
 duties, that she might have left for her aunt 
 Maria to do, Mrs. Mordaunt afterward said. 
 But Edith was one of those rare natures that 
 would rather spend themselves in the small con 
 cerns of life, even if unnoticed and unappreci 
 ated, than know that other persons might be in 
 convenienced by their omission. And she never 
 spared her own pains if anything unpleasant re 
 quired attention. The most disagreeable duty 
 was always the first to be accomplished. These 
 characteristics she had in measure inherited 
 from her mother. From her father a strong will 
 kept well in control, and unflinching persever 
 ance. Added to these she had attained to such 
 quiet self-control that feeling was made subser 
 vient to conviction, and a complete subjection 
 to principle dictated and governed her daily 
 conduct. With these, she also possessed a buoy 
 ant, sunny temperament that made light of the 
 ills and disappointments of life. No wonder 
 that she was a favorite with all who claimed her 
 acquaintance.
 
 196 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 She had a warm welcome from her teachers, 
 a most joyous greeting from her classmates ; and 
 returned home with Tom and her father in the 
 afternoon, overflowing with happy merriment, 
 for the class had begged to be put back a few les 
 sons in order that she might go on easily with 
 them; and the teachers had approved the move 
 ment. Further, they promised, now that she 
 would be with them, beginning a new study a 
 series of observations of the events transpiring 
 around them, and the suggestions they awak 
 ened ; to be reported daily. 
 
 " A most excellent study," said her father. 
 " You will find the knowledge of human nature 
 thus gained, invaluable. Book knowledge is of 
 small worth, in comparison, as you will soon 
 find." 
 
 Tom had seen Mr. Goodwin. He accepted the 
 invitation and Barley was to drive down after 
 working hours to bring him. And Tom was sur 
 prised to find Mr. Goodwin so intelligent, and, 
 " Such a gentleman, father ! I know Roland 
 and Kob used to think nobody could know so 
 much as he. But I hadn't the least idea that he 
 could be so agreeable." 
 
 " There's nothing very remarkable in that," 
 said Mr. Marston. " Let a man, no matter what 
 his occupation, determine to make the best of 
 his abilities and opportunities, and keep the
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 197 
 
 Golden Rule for his guide in his transactions, 
 and his intercourse with others, and he is a true 
 gentleman, can't be otherwise. It results as 
 naturally as sweetness and beauty from the 
 brown seeds that push their growth through 
 darkness and dampness, gaining more and more 
 of their higher life through their exercise to 
 reach the sunshine, yet all the while unconscious 
 of that sweetness and beauty which is unmistak 
 ably theirs." 
 
 Roland and Robert, expecting Mr. Goodwin, 
 and alert to know who came home in the buggy, 
 were disposed to complain when he didn't alight. 
 
 " Of course he wasn't going to waste several 
 good daylight hours, that he could fill with 
 valuable work, just for the sake of looking at 
 that ugly contrivance," said Tom. " Do give the 
 man credit for possessing common sense." 
 
 "And prudence and good judgment," added 
 Harold. 
 
 " Granted," said Tom. " Try to be patient a 
 little longer, boys. He will work till six o'clock. 
 Then he is coming." 
 
 When they found Darley was to go for him 
 after six they begged leave to go too. There 
 would be plenty of room in the buggy, so there 
 could be no objection. They made the shortest 
 dinner for months, and long before others* were 
 ready to rise, were excused, and then they hur-
 
 198 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 ried Darley so that they set off on the stroke 
 of six. 
 
 Mr. Marston brought the wheel forward again, 
 placed it at the end of the veranda that it might 
 get all the light possible, now that day was decli 
 ning. Then he moved near it the lounge and 
 Harold's reclining chair, "We'll be as com 
 fortable and as cosy as possible," he said. 
 
 Pauline had been trying to get a good oppor 
 tunity to tell something about the Public, and of 
 the readings Roland's in particular. But so 
 many different persons had desired her father's 
 attention to matters considered more important, 
 that she had waited patiently. Now she thought 
 he had leisure to listen to her, for he moved Har 
 old's spruce pillow and stretched himself on the 
 lounge. Tad had called Duncan for a frolic and 
 to show some of the tricks he had been recently 
 taught They came jumping and springing close 
 to his father's side before Polly could say a 
 word. And then she saw a lady walking lei 
 surely up the front terrace, " Miss Leonard ! " 
 she exclaimed rapturously, and ran to meet her. 
 
 Miss Leonard preferred to remain on the ve 
 randa. She could have the coolness of the west 
 ern breeze there, and the beauty of the sunset 
 sky. So while Taddie arranged a hassock for 
 Miss Leonard's feet, Polly went for her mother 
 and aunt Maria. Grandmother had come just
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 199 
 
 before, and busied herself in arranging chairs. 
 
 Miss Leonard was glad to find Polly so far 
 recovered from her accident, and pleased to 
 know she would be in school the next day. She 
 asked her what insects she had found interesting 
 lately, and if she and Tad had cracked any stones 
 and found any crystals. Polly and Tad, too, 
 were rather ashamed to say they had had no time 
 for finding stones and insects. " You'll find the 
 time," she said, smiling, " when I request you to 
 find them for me I know you will ; " and both 
 Tad and Polly said they would try. 
 
 Mr. Marston mentioned the stone found in 
 the pine grove, and enquired if any minerals of 
 value had been discovered in Pippoton. She 
 had heard that Mr. Hamilton's son, the doctor, 
 once circulated a wild story about the silver in 
 some portion of his father's estate. Yet he was 
 such a visionary man, scarcely any one had faith 
 in what he said. They were talking about him 
 when Darley drove up. 
 
 Mr. Goodwin seemed delighted to see Miss 
 Leonard, but he received the greetings of all 
 the others before speaking to her. 
 
 She, covered with blushes, at the first glimpse 
 of his face, looked around uneasily, and lapsed 
 into silence. Bert and Roland were very happy. 
 They had chatted all the way home ; telling him 
 all manner of things relating to Pleasant Hill
 
 200 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 and it neighborhood; and the most marvellous 
 account of Taddie's misadventure in the shut-in 
 room. 
 
 " So this is the wheel of flame," Mr. Goodwin 
 said, after a little pleasant talk with the ladies 
 and Harold. He rose as he spoke, and went 
 toward it. 
 
 " It seems a simple affair enough, if one might 
 consider it complete," said Mr. Marston. " Yes, 
 yes," returned Mr. Goodwin deliberately. 
 " The copper and the zinc suggest electricity 
 galvanic, chemical." 
 
 " And the disc in the centre may have served 
 for generator? " asked Mr. Marston. 
 
 " Perhaps. I see there are tubes within these 
 tubes. And the rods, wires 1 , are copper. It has 
 been in a state of fusion, I should judge; of 
 great heat, certainly. The irregularities in some 
 of the tubes and the discolorations look like the 
 effects of heat" 
 
 " It was found in what has been called the 
 burnt room. Whether the wheel caused the 
 burning, or was merely a sufferer from it, I 
 haven't yet discovered, but would like to know." 
 
 " It was more likely the cause, I think, and 
 must have been invented to produce or to con 
 vey power for operating some mechanical work. 
 What a marvellous force electricity is ! " 
 
 Mr. Marston told all he knew of the shut-in
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 201 
 
 rooms and of the young lad who had experi 
 mented there. Mr. Goodwin thanked him for 
 the information, and for the privilege of examin 
 ing the wheel and said he must look up the sub 
 ject of electricity and satisfy himself whether 
 these conjectures in regard to the purpose of 
 the wheel were correct. " It is a fine concep 
 tion," he said " this wheel, if we are right in our 
 conjectures; a motive power distributing its 
 energies to promote some worthy enterprise. 
 The wheel with its numerous spokes (the tubes) 
 fulfilling the mission of the force hidden in the 
 hub. Did you ever think, sir, of electricity as 
 a symbol of life? " 
 
 Mr. Marston said he had not, but could now 
 see that the comparison was apt. 
 
 " It is light and heat and power and sweet 
 ness ; beneficial, or the contrary, according as it 
 is managed and controlled. Blessed and bless 
 ing if properly used and employed, but danger 
 ous, causing harm and hurt, when carelessly 
 or thoughtlessly used." 
 
 " You see," he added, with a quiet little laugh, 
 " my occupation gives opportunity for musing 
 and meditation. Now, here, I see in this center, 
 the hub, a likeness to the head of a family, the 
 parents; the tubes, diverging thence, are the 
 members of that family, the children. Whatever 
 has chief place is cherished and treasured in
 
 202 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 the heart of the parents and must pass like the 
 electric current through the lives of the children. 
 The light, the warmth, the power, the sweetness 
 of the parents' lives, properly controlled and 
 managed, involuntarily invigorate the children's 
 hearts and consciences, rendering their lives also 
 bright and sweet and strong for all noble effort ; 
 and for conveying the same to the community 
 " (here he touched the wires and the felloe) sur 
 rounding them. And the force passes thence, 
 as was probably the intention of the inventor 
 here in regard to the electric force, passes on 
 ward, helping and urging their fellows, the 
 whole human race, toward the attainment of 
 virtue and all noble living. A sure progress, 
 though at times imperceptible, except by its 
 results." 
 
 " You must enjoy carpentering, if it brings 
 you such thoughts," said Mr. Marston. " I am 
 afraid few of the craft get the good out of it that 
 you do." 
 
 Mr. Goodwin smiled. " It is well to think 
 upon these things; but my mind is too frequently 
 employed on matters of less importance. For 
 instance, I recollect that Roland once asked me 
 how to make a snare for catching partridges. 
 You'll find them in the woods near here by and 
 by, and I may as well show him how to make 
 something of the kind now."
 
 "So this is the whei'l of flame," said Mr. Goodwin.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 203 
 
 "Oh, thank you, thank you!" said Roland, 
 grasping Mr. Goodwin's hand and answering the 
 merry light in Mr. Goodwin's eyes with a joyous 
 gleam in his own. 
 
 " I have felt very grateful to you, sir," said 
 Mr. Marston, " for interesting and amusing 
 these boys of mine. I hope they haven't been a 
 serious annoyance to you, ever." 
 
 " Oh, no! it has been a pleasure to have their 
 company occasionally. Since you left Hillsford 
 I have missed them more than I care to tell. I 
 hope they'll come to me as often as they can 
 spare an hour or so. Just now if Robert will 
 get some stout string and Roland narrow strips 
 of thin pine board, I'll set them up for the par 
 tridge business in the August vacation." 
 
 The boys darted off and soon returned with 
 the desired materials. 
 
 " It takes so little to amuse growing boys and 
 to arouse their ambition for excelling in manly 
 pursuits," ejaculated Mr. Goodwin as they came 
 toward him. " We'll have a simple one, a line 
 snare," he continued, " for the first," stepping 
 to the driveway. All the children followed him 
 and then silently watched what he did with the 
 cord and strips of board. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Marston exchanged glances of 
 amusement. Grandmother began a conversa 
 tion with Miss Leonard who had remained near
 
 204 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 Harold listening modestly to the talk between 
 Mr. Marston and his guest, showing her interest 
 by a glance now and then towards Mr. Goodwin, 
 which was duly returned by him. 
 
 Just as Robert had whittled two stout stakes 
 and was helping Roland to fasten the cord to 
 them, Taddie was sent to the barn to find a few 
 long horse-hairs. He came back presently with 
 several which Mr. Goodwin pronounced just the 
 thing, as he showed the boys how to make a 
 noose of a horse-hair and fastened several along 
 the line and then by means of the stakes 
 stretched the line straight and firmly to the 
 ground. He showed them next how to scatter 
 the corn; and said they mustn't allow a par 
 tridge to remain long in the noose, but must have 
 a basket, or paper box to put over him and take 
 him home. Of course they would watch the 
 snare closely. 
 
 " Cruel business, it seems to me," said Edith, 
 who had joined the group and stood watching 
 the boys take up the line and fold it to place 
 away for safe keeping. 
 
 Then he showed them, by taking a long willow 
 wand and a string with a slipnoose how to make 
 an arch snare. The pointed ends of the willow 
 stick inserted in the ground made the arch, from 
 the center of which the slipnoose was suspended. 
 Half a dozen of these, he said, he once set up
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 205 
 
 within an enclosure made of short sticks form 
 ing a low fence, and caught a partridge in each. 
 He said he supposed they knew how to make a 
 figure four trap. Taddie did not. So with 
 three strips of pine, a broad piece of board for 
 its floor, and a wooden box arranged to fall over 
 and keep the quails or rabbits when they set 
 foot upon the floor, he soon made it plain. 
 
 " I'm afraid you have been too obliging," said 
 Mr. Marston, as he saw the boys carrying the 
 trap and the materials for the snares to the 
 barn. It won't do to take all the game from the 
 woods." 
 
 " Of course you are not in earnest," said Mr. 
 Goodwin. You must undestand boy nature 
 pretty thoroughly, I think, and know that there 
 is more pleasure in making and setting traps 
 and snares than in securing the game; and the 
 variety of them enhances the enjoyment. I 
 doubt if with a dozen snares and traps they will 
 bag one-third that number. The story that I 
 told them was my very best experience in nearly 
 a dozen years." 
 
 As he spoke Mr. Goodwin drew a chair to Miss 
 Leonard's side. " I was not aware before that 
 you were friends," said Mr. Marston, signifi 
 cantly, coming up behind them. 
 
 " Perhaps I ought to have told you so when I 
 first arrived," observed Mr. Goodwin. " But I
 
 206 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 was eager to examine the wheel, and so forgot 
 the politeness due both to Miss Leonard and 
 yourself." 
 
 u And I, perhaps, should have stated the 
 object of my call," remarked Miss Leonard. 
 
 The boys had returned from the barn were 
 arranging themselves against the ballustrade of 
 the piazza. " Taddie, step this way and state 
 your case," said his father. 
 
 " I don't understand. What is my case? " 
 said Taddie. " Please tell me what you mean by 
 state. If it's something about definitions, I hope 
 I'm going to learn them soon." 
 
 " That is the state of the case, exactly," said 
 Miss Leonard, very kindly. She had a low, 
 musical voice that it was a pleasure to hear. 
 After a moments pause, she continued, " I think 
 he can understand and learn the meaning of our 
 most common words." She seemed to be weigh 
 ing what she had to say, and wished to be as ex 
 plicit as possible. " From those he will go on 
 to others more difficult." Again a pause. " I 
 find he is interested in the recitations of the 
 higher classes; so without doubt, will enjoy the 
 study." 
 
 " You are the best judge of his attainments 
 and of his abilities in that direction. Since you 
 approve, the boy's wish shall be gratified. Do
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 207 
 
 you hear that? Do you know what gratified 
 means?" 
 
 Taddie stood at his father's side. He looked 
 up, in a tremor of hope, and began to stammer. 
 But he checked himself resolutely and said 
 slowly. " It means made happy, I suppose. It 
 is what grandma says sometimes, when we talk 
 together about what I mean to do when I am a 
 man." 
 
 " That will do, it is a good answer, my son," 
 said Mr. Marston, smoothing Tad's obstinate 
 forelocks into rather better order about his ears. 
 " I suppose you know, Miss Leonard, what has 
 caused the dearth of this crop? " he nodded 
 meaningly toward the bald spots on the boy's 
 head. 
 
 She smiled, and nodded also. " Affection re 
 quires great sacrifices sometimes," she said. 
 
 "Was it because my hair was red?" asked 
 Taddie mournfully " the sacrifice, I mean." 
 
 " Oh, no ! Why do you ask that? " said his 
 mother. 
 
 " Because, because, you have to have fire. 
 They did in the Bible, Abraham and those old 
 men, to make a sacrifice. And the boys at school 
 touch my hair and say it burns, and I wish 
 they wouldn't." 
 
 " I will see that they don't do it again," said
 
 208 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 Miss Leonard. " I wish you had told me of it 
 before now, Thaddeus.' 
 
 " Then they would have called me a sneak ; 
 and I don't like that either." 
 
 The beautiful June twilight was now getting 
 sombre. Save for the presence of Jupiter gleam 
 ing from the southern sky, and Venus just above 
 the western horrizon, dimness obscured the 
 heavens. 
 
 " Night is coming on," said Mr. Goodwin, ris 
 ing and beginning to make his adieus. 
 
 " Stop a minute," said Mr. Marston. " Darley 
 is expecting to drive you home. If Miss Leonard 
 must leave now, he will take her also." 
 
 Miss Leonard was talking with Mrs. Mor- 
 daunt and Kuth about coming to school. " O 
 thank you, sir, but I will walk," she said. I de 
 ferred taking my constitutional till after this 
 call." 
 
 " And I will take it with her," said Mr. Good 
 win. I am used to walking; frequently of an 
 evening walk to Pippoton Centre and home 
 again. 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Mr. Marston with the air of 
 one who has made a pleasant discovery. " By 
 the way," he continued, as if wishing to turn the 
 conversation for Miss Leonard now appeared 
 embarrassed, " what do you think of the strike 
 at Moody's? "
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 209 
 
 " A very foolish thing. Moody has had much 
 to contend with in the competition of the past 
 year. He has done the best he could for his 
 employees kept them at work through all the 
 dull season. And this is all the thanks he gets. 
 I sometimes think that the generality of people 
 never know anything about the feeling of grati 
 tude." 
 
 " But, it is true that he reduced their wages 
 about a month ago?" 
 
 " Yes, and it was understood by all, except 
 those who are wilfully stupid, that it was only 
 for a while. That is better than no work and 
 no pay at all. If they will give him time, he will 
 restore the old pay. The worst of it is this 
 strike has led to grumbling at Wood's and at 
 Stimpson's. Nelson, I hear, has fear of its ef 
 fects on his men." 
 
 " Ah ! I am sorry to hear that. Nelson has 
 been very successful. And I believe he is strictly 
 honest too." 
 
 "Perfectly I've no doubt. And one of the 
 most honorable men in town. His new house is 
 made a pretext for complaint. Envy is at the 
 bottom of most of this trouble, it seems to me." 
 
 Miss Leonard was waiting to bid Mr. Marston 
 good night. There was a hasty shaking of 
 hands, and Mr. Goodwin and Miss Leonard set 
 off together.
 
 210 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " He told us one day he had a friend up here," 
 said Roland. " I didn't suppose we should know 
 who the friend was." 
 
 " Isn't it nice to know the friend is Miss Leon 
 ard? " said Robert. " She is just as nice a lady 
 as he's a man." 
 
 " Why didn't you say gentleman? He is one, 
 I'm sure," said Tom. 
 
 " Yes, certainly," said his father. " I am sur 
 prised to see how sensible, and how well in 
 formed, he is. He has had few advantages for 
 education, but he has improved them to the ut 
 most, that is very evident." 
 
 " He has learned a great deal from careful 
 observation, I think," remarked Mrs. Marston. 
 " I was convinced of that by his examination of 
 the wheel."
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 211 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 ADDITIONS TO THE MAKSTON FAMILY. 
 
 MR. HOWARD had not expected Mr. Marston's 
 return so soon. It had been agreed that no let 
 ters should pass between them, except in the 
 event of some occurrence notably disastrous. 
 Mr. Marston had ben agreeably surprised to find 
 how easily his sister's affairs could be managed, 
 and how soon he could take the homeward jour 
 ney. 
 
 Trade had suddenly increased. Mr. Howard 
 was extremely busy, and very glad to see Mr. 
 Marston, and all day long they kept the packers 
 and shippers nimbly employed in fulfilling or 
 ders. In the afternoon a large quantity of jute 
 was received. This led Mr. Marston to inquire 
 when the last Calcutta mail was in hand. Mr. 
 Howard mentioned the date. " Nothing then 
 from my brother, I suppose, or you would have 
 forwarded it to Pleasant Hill." Mr. Howard as 
 sented. 
 
 " I don't understand his long silence," ob-
 
 212 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 served Mr. Marston. " Nothing came from him 
 in the last mail before I left. That was strange, 
 I thought." 
 
 " We ought to have a mail from there to-night 
 or to-morrow. Very likely you'll hear something 
 by that." 
 
 " I hope the difficulty among the Hong Kong 
 merchants hasn't affected him. I can't help 
 feeling concerned when I consider how long it is 
 since he wrote last." 
 
 " Now, Marston, look here," said Mr. Howard, 
 putting his thumbs into the armholes of his 
 vest, and striding toward the desk against which 
 his partner was leaning dejectedly, " haven't you 
 enough on your shoulders without borrowing a 
 burden from him? You just go home and make 
 yourself easy; and come down here to-morrow 
 without those hideous lines in your forehead and 
 cheeks that you've been getting. Why! man 
 alive, you'll look worse than a South Sea Is 
 lander in less than a week if you let Care tattoo 
 you like that." 
 
 Mr. Marston laughed. But it was not the 
 merry laugh known to his family. 
 
 " Thank you, Howard," he said. " I'll try to 
 do as you suggest. I never let Care go out of 
 this office with me. And I'm jolly enough at 
 home. For my wife and I trudge along together 
 making light of annoyances. Harold's illness
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 213 
 
 and disappointment did depress us for a while; 
 but, now, he seems improving and we are cheer 
 ful and gay." 
 
 The India mail arrived late that night. The 
 package lay on Mr. Marston's desk an hour be 
 fore he came to business. It contained the 
 much-desired letter, greatly to his peace of mind, 
 also an invoice of goods sent to the firm by that 
 brother from Kioto. 
 
 " What does this mean," asked Mr. Marston. 
 " Has he gone to Japan? How he changes 
 about!" 
 
 He tore the letter open hastily, and found that 
 his brother's wife had died, and her sickness and 
 death had caused his delay in writing. His busi 
 ness had decreased and for some time before her 
 death he had contemplated removal to Tokio. 
 Very soon after her decease he placed his chil 
 dren in the family of a missionary in that city 
 and then closed his Calcutta business. He had 
 received splendid offers from firms both in 
 Tokio and Kioto to enter as partner in their 
 trade; had the matter at present under advise 
 ment, and wished his brother Philip to consider 
 the letter in the light of an advisement. 
 
 It was a long letter. Running his eye over 
 three or four more pages, Mr. Marston deferred 
 reading till the day's business was closed. 
 
 The weather was hot and dry, as sultry as in
 
 214 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 August. Business was yet more urgent than 
 yesterday, and Mr. Marston was glad to hear 
 Prince's neigh at the door, that told him it was 
 time to order the office closed and to take the 
 drive home. He was thoroughly fatigued, and 
 so overcome by the heat that the moment he 
 reached Pleasant Hill he took off his coat. 
 Harold vacated the lounge for his use, and Mrs. 
 Mordaunt insisted on fanning him. 
 
 " I declare," said his wife, taking up the coat, 
 " this old seersucker is completely demoralized. 
 Lottie shall try to get it clean and then I'll mend 
 it up for the missionary box. Some poor fellow 
 down in Georgia will be glad to get a few weeks' 
 wear out of it before the summer is over. The 
 box is going next week, so Lottie must take it 
 in hand immediately." 
 
 Half an hour later the coat having had a 
 faithful scrubbing and rinsing, also an ample 
 starch-bath, hung on the clothes-dryer, and 
 Lottie was heating irons in order to return 
 it to Mrs. Marston as soon as she could, and in 
 good order as far as her efforts could go. Mr. 
 Marston came to the kitchen, somewhat ruffled 
 mentally, and inquired what had become of the 
 contents of the coat-pocket. 
 
 " T'are was not in it at all, to be vat you call 
 contints," said Lottie. 
 
 " Why, Lottie ! " he exclaimed. " I had a let-
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 215 
 
 ter in that pocket. What did you do with it? " 
 
 " Do not'in. I vash t'e coat clean. An' I 
 s-winck e'et well. An' I stairr'ch e'et well, vary 
 nice. An' I hahng e'et to drray." 
 
 " The letter was certainly in the pocket," said 
 Mr. Marston, rather sternly. " You must have 
 done something with it ; and I must have it now." 
 
 Before another half-hour had passed Lottie 
 brought the coat now dry for Mrs. Marston's in 
 spection to convince her that she had told the 
 truth. Mrs. Marston immediately pointed to an 
 inside breast-pocket, and took thence the letter, 
 nearly reduced to pulp, from its contact with 
 water and the wringer. With much difficulty 
 the paper was picked into readable portions, and 
 from these fragments Mrs. Marston gathered a 
 few questions relating to Mrs. Mordaunt and 
 family and something concerning a Doctor 
 Hamilton, whom the writer had recently met. 
 This doctor was a wonderfully ingenious man, 
 and had made a stir in Kioto because of his 
 eccentricities and a curious invention of his, 
 nearly completed, that would probably bring 
 him great wealth. Much more in which the doc 
 tor's name occurred was indecipherable, the 
 thin overland paper presenting merely a huge 
 gray blot, with that name only plain enough to 
 be seen. 
 
 " Well well ! wonders never will cease," ex-
 
 216 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 claimed Mrs. Marston, and Mr. Marston laughed 
 uproariously " To think that the man has 
 turned up alive, at last! And in the most un 
 expected place." 
 
 " It is the unexpected that happens, you 
 know," returned her husband. " Suppose we 
 take the letter what there is of it to mother. 
 She will be glad to know we have heard from 
 James." 
 
 " See what you can get out of that," said Mr. 
 Marston, as with one of his cherry laughs he 
 handed his mother the crushed letter. 
 
 The old lady put on her spectacles, and turn 
 ing the fragments over and over, looked at her 
 son wonderingly. 
 
 " It is a letter from James," he said. 
 
 "In this shape? what has happened?" 
 
 In a merry way he told the accident that had 
 befallen it. 
 
 " Oh ! you are a boy yet, Philip in spite of 
 the white threads in your hair. How fond you 
 are of fun." 
 
 " And I always mean to be a boy," he replied, 
 " and get all the harmless sport out of life that 
 I can. There's James, now, always as solemn 
 and sober as an Egyptian sphinx, and grubbing 
 on with a growl every little while over the trials 
 and hard work of life, and never getting content 
 or satisfaction in anything. He's about making
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 217 
 
 another change had changed his home when 
 he wrote." 
 
 "I can't see (is it the fault of my eyes?) a 
 word that he has written." 
 
 " I thought you had better have tangible proof 
 of the letter. I can give you a pretty correct 
 account of the most important parts of it," he 
 responded, and then told what he had read. 
 
 " It is no more than I expected. Ellen hadn't 
 the constitution to stand such a climate. But 
 how James will get along without her, Fm sure 
 I don't know she was so clear headed and had 
 such tact. I'm glad he had the forethought to 
 put the children in the missionary's care. And 
 so that doctor is alive, after all. I shouldn't be 
 surprised to see him walking in here, any day, 
 now," said grandmother. 
 
 " If he is coming, I hope he'll be here soon and 
 take care of his chemicals and things," said Mr. 
 Marston. 
 
 " I must see Dr. Houghton, soon, and let him 
 know where the fellow is, because, you know, the 
 Squire's affairs are still in his hands." 
 
 " I wonder what Mrs. Sinclair will say ; Miss 
 Mordaunt will no doubt be pleased to know he 
 is alive she never would agree with her sister 
 that he died at the explosion, though Mrs. Sin 
 clair thought her very foolish to be so persistent 
 in believing him alive," said Mrs. Marston.
 
 218 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " It shows that we shouldn't be hasty in our 
 conclusions," said grandmother. " I told Maria 
 yesterday I thought we should hear something 
 favorable about Willie before a great while, and 
 this strengthens my belief." 
 
 " Maria is bearing her trials with much more 
 composure than when in Denver I am glad to 
 notice," said Mr. Marston, " and I hope, mother, 
 you'll keep up that belief as much for her sake 
 as for your own."
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 219 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 GOING TO A PARTY. 
 
 MR. MARSTON felt that Dr. Houghton ought to 
 be informed that Richard Hamilton was alive, 
 and, by right should have charge of his father's 
 estate, so he took time at noon the next day to 
 call on the doctor and tell him of his letter from 
 Calcutta, and to ask his advice about opening 
 the closed balcony and the disposal of its con 
 tents. Dr. Houghton was eager to know how 
 Harold was improving, and this reminded Mr. 
 Marston of the plan for horse-back riding, sug 
 gested a few weeks previous. 
 
 " I shouldn't approve of it," the doctor re 
 plied; "walking is much better for one in his 
 condition, beginning with, say, one mile a day, 
 and simple gymnastics. By the way, Marston, 
 why not fit up a gymnasium in that balcony, 
 after you get it cleared and cleansed? A gym 
 nasium will be an excellent thing for your boys, 
 and you couldn't have a better place for one than 
 that balcony."
 
 220 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " Yes, yes ! I wonder I hadn't thought of it. 
 I'll go about it directly shall be glad of some 
 exercise of that sort to reduce somewhat my in 
 creasing avoirdupois," was the gay response, as 
 he straightened his back and stretched his arms. 
 
 " Good for you ! " exclaimed the doctor. 
 " Tell Harold to try walking every fair day the 
 roads are now in fine condition; and begin sim 
 ple athletics as soon as possible; but walking 
 walking is the main thing, while the country 
 is in its best growth and bloom." 
 
 " He'll be glad to get at his nature studies 
 again, I know," said Mr. Marston. 
 
 " Encourage him, help him, in these 
 studies, Marston, you'll find great gain for your 
 self in them. And I'll try to get Miss Hamilton 
 to write to her brother; if directed to Calcutta, 
 or in your brother's care, a letter would reach 
 him, I suppose? " 
 
 Mr. Marston assured him that James would 
 be pleased to assist the sister in any way. On 
 reaching home at dinner time, he told of his en 
 couraging talk with the doctor about Harold; 
 and the daily walks were to be begun the next 
 day. The plan of the proposed gymnasium was 
 heard by all the family with hearty approval. 
 Then came the reading of a note received dur 
 ing his absence, by Edith an invitation to a 
 birthday party which was to take place the fol-
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 221 
 
 lowing week. As Mrs. Sinclair spoke highly of 
 Mrs. Wrendike, and her family, he said he had 
 no objection to make against the child's party 
 was especially glad that the little blind girl was 
 to be benefited by it. That led to a talk about 
 the poor boy who had " peculiarities," for whom 
 the children had given their weekly charity 
 money while father and mother were at Denver, 
 to buy him a book to study art, and for whom 
 Tad and Polly were eager to have a circus soon. 
 But just now the party claimed chief attention. 
 Early the next day Ruth Mordaunt asked 
 Pauline what she should wear at the party. 
 They were both in Edith's room of which Pau 
 line now had a share. It was noon intermission 
 of Friday. The party would "begin," accord 
 ing to Mrs. Wrendike's note, at "five o'clock." 
 There would be little time for preparations after 
 coming home in the afternoon, so Polly had gone 
 upstairs immediately after luncheon to get 
 things in readiness. Her mother would have 
 enough to do to help Robert and Roland, and 
 Taddie, whom she always had to hurry at the 
 last moment, he was so dilatory. Maud, too, 
 was to be dressed in season, for she was certainly 
 included in the invitation. Edith would not be 
 likely to get home from Hillsford till they were 
 ready to set off. But Darley could drive them
 
 222 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 to Mrs. Wrendike's if nothing happened to delay 
 his return from Hillsford. 
 
 Polly had. thought this all out and meant to 
 take a bath at noon, the day was so warm, and 
 then to brush and roll her hair; she was in 
 clined to call her hair, as Susan did, " a great 
 bother." But Harold had said it was pretty, 
 and she cared a great deal more for his opinion 
 than for Susan's, and tried to keep the curls in 
 proper order. They would get tangled some 
 times especially in the romping games at re 
 cess. And when Ruth asked what she was going 
 to wear, she was struggling with a dreadful 
 snarl that the wind, or some of the other girls, 
 had made when she played " Catch " in the fore 
 noon recess. 
 
 The snarl troubled her so much she didn't no 
 tice what Ruth said. Ruth, quick to take af 
 front, said hastily ; " I think you might tell me 
 if I wasn't invited.'' 
 
 " O dear ! yes. What shall I tell you? " Ruth's 
 disagreeable tones had been worse to bear than 
 clearing the snarl. Ruth repeated the question. 
 
 " I don't know. My clean pink gingham, I 
 suppose." 
 
 " Haven't you anything handsomer than 
 that?" 
 
 " I think it's very pretty. Perhaps mama will 
 let me wear my white dress. But I might get it
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 223 
 
 soiled; and I ought to keep it clean for church 
 on Sunday." 
 
 " I should think you'd have a party dress 
 all silk and lace. I had one once; but it's 
 spoiled, and too small for me now. I hope mama 
 will get me another soon." 
 
 " Tilly Moody had just such a dress for Annie 
 Nelson's party last winter, and she didn't have 
 a bit good time, she was so 'fraid of getting it 
 torn and soiled. I was glad 'twasn't my dress." 
 
 Ruth stood some minutes watching Polly roll 
 her curls. Neither of them spoke. At last Ruth 
 said " You haven't any rings, have you? " 
 
 " Only this little one grandma gave me for 
 learning to shut the doors in the winter-time." 
 
 " Oh that's nothing " was the scornful re 
 joinder. " Don't you want to wear my turquoise 
 and my garnet one? " 
 
 " Why no ! Who ever heard of such a thing? 
 borrowing rings and things to wear? " 
 
 " My mother's diamond bracelet looked real 
 handsome with my party dress when I used to 
 wear it." 
 
 " Oho ! Ruth Mordaunt, I don't believe you've 
 got a turquoise ring nor a garnet one nor 
 your mother a diamond bracelet." 
 
 " Don't you? Well, you needn't. You'll see 
 one of these days," Ruth returned, with an ex 
 asperating toss of her head. " I'm glad I've
 
 224 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 got a better nose than you have. So, there, now, 
 Pollywog Marston." 
 
 " It's a good nose. Grandma says it is," re 
 turned Polly in a tremulous voice. " And grand 
 ma knows more than anybody in this house," 
 the tears, in spite of her bravest efforts, running 
 down her cheeks. 
 
 " It's horrid homely, any way," snarled Ruth. 
 
 " Ruth ! Ruth ! Why aren't you looking after 
 Henry? Susan must go to her lunch. If you 
 can't do more for that baby you must give up 
 going to school." Mrs. Mordaunt said this in 
 rapid, impatient tones. She was passing to her 
 chamber and accidentally saw Ruth and heard 
 her last words. As the girl came toward her she 
 shook her by the shoulders and bade her mind 
 what she said to Polly in future, or she should be 
 sent to the orphan asylum. 
 
 Polly was shocked. Her aunt Maria had 
 seemed kind and gentle ; and she couldn't under 
 stand how she could speak in such tones, or treat 
 Ruth so. She felt that it would have broken her 
 heart to have her mother give her such looks 
 and tones and to shake her! Oh, dear! she 
 pitied Ruth so much, she forgot what she had 
 just said about her nose, and finished dressing 
 her hair as speedily as possible, thinking she 
 would tell her mother. Before she put away her 
 dressing-sack, she concluded not to tell her
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 225 
 
 mother, unless Ruth should be feeling very sad 
 when she called her to walk along to school with 
 her. And when, a few minutes later, she met 
 her in the hall, and Ruth said " Pollywog 
 Humpty Dumpty ! " and pointed to her nose 
 she changed her mind, and concluded Ruth 
 needed no sympathy. They walked to school to 
 gether and Taddie and the other boys joined 
 them before they had turned the corner. The 
 boys were all in high spirits and talking about 
 what Sidney Wrendike had told them in the 
 morning of his sister's birthday presents and 
 what was going to be done at the party. 
 
 Both Mr. Parks and Miss Leonard were con 
 siderate, and as the weather was warm and many 
 of the pupils somewhat excited by their antici 
 pations of the delights of the party, they required 
 shorter lessons; recitations were finished nearly 
 half an hour earlier than usual and the school 
 dismissed. 
 
 Was there ever a day too warm for a race 
 among children? With perspiration streaming 
 from every pore, the four Marston children 
 rushed along the road as if for dear life, pant 
 ing, and nearly breathless, in such a heat that 
 nothing could be done about dressing and their 
 mother was not a little disturbed to see them so 
 early and in such a plight. Maud, sweet and 
 pure as a white rose, in her plain white cambric
 
 226 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 and a pale blue sash sat on the sofa in the cool, 
 shaded parlor, patiently listening to a long story 
 that Harold was improvising to keep her quiet 
 and contented. She was all ready for the party, 
 and a charming contrast to her three brothers 
 and sisters who came pell-mell into the coolness 
 and dimness as full-blown peonies might to the 
 court of the queenly white rose. Polly was 
 struck by her little sister's beauty and begged a 
 kiss " just one." The others admired at a dis 
 tance, and at their mothers special request went 
 to their rooms to " cool off." And Polly didn't 
 have the kiss; for Maud drew herself up with 
 great dignity and waved aside the flushed face. 
 Ruth, ten minutes later, calm, collected and cool, 
 proffered the same request and was not denied. 
 
 In good time all were ready. Polly, in her 
 clean pink gingham, a pink ribbon confining her 
 curls; the boys in Sunday suits and clean col 
 lars. 
 
 " Of course you will all behave well," said 
 their mother, as she adjusted the bow of the last 
 necktie to its owner's satisfaction not an easy 
 thing to do, so fastidious were these young party- 
 goers. Hands, and nails, especially, were then 
 carefully inspected, a tender point between 
 mothers and free and easy urchins. But, won 
 derful to relate! they met her approbation. 
 Hadn't Taddie scrubbed nearly half the bristles
 
 The Four Marston children rushed along the road.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 227 
 
 from his nail-brush in his contest with the grime 
 on his chubby finger-nails? And Bert and 
 Roland used almost a cake of soap in removing 
 the effects of weeding grandmother's marigolds 
 and asters. Pauline's were, of course, above 
 suspicion. 
 
 " Now you ought to have some extract," said 
 Ruth, standing by as inspector general. 
 
 "Extract? What for," asked Taddie, in 
 amazment " We haven't sprained us. And I 
 guess noboby's got a stomach-ache, nor any 
 thing." 
 
 " Not that kind violets, or sweet brier, or 
 cologne, or something else nice-smelling, for a 
 scent." 
 
 "O pshaw! bosh!" said both Bert and Rol 
 and. 
 
 " That's for sickness, too," said Tad. 
 
 Polly remained silent. Mrs. Marston said, 
 "Good health and neatness need nothing 
 sweeter. Now, my dears, one thing more 
 politeness. And that comes from remembering 
 the Golden Rule, you know." 
 
 "Yes," said Tad, eagerly, "To do to others 
 as I would that they should do to me." 
 
 " Just in time/ said Polly. " Here comes the 
 buggy." 
 
 " Be sure, all of you," said Mrs. Marston," to 
 be very kind to the blind little girl."
 
 228 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " And wish her many happy birthdays, I sup 
 pose," said Roland. 
 
 " Certainly. Don't forget to see Mrs. Wren- 
 dike the first thing, and speak politely to her, 
 and remember to thank her when you come 
 home. I think you'll all have a delightful time." 
 
 She had a kiss and a loving " good-by, mama," 
 from each of them. And then watched with 
 pride and fond mother-love as they stood a mo 
 ment, Maud held by the hands of the two eld 
 est boys, for a word with their father and Tom 
 and Edith, while Darley turned Prince around : 
 Mr. Marston lifted Polly into the vehicle and 
 then Maud; the boys scrambled in, and Prince 
 went down the driveway as if he knew he had a 
 precious load. 
 
 At eight o'clock the team was dispatched for 
 their return. A -merrier, happier set could not 
 have been found in the whole country. They 
 came chatting and laughing and singing, over 
 flowing with delight. As to Maud she could 
 hardly be kept seated till Darley had brought 
 them to the door feet and hands were in a con 
 tinual flutter. Tom and Edith were ready to 
 take her as soon as Prince halted ; with a happy 
 little laugh she threw her arms around Tom's 
 neck and began to tell what she had seen and 
 done." 
 
 " Well," said Tom, as he stood her beside Har-
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 229 
 
 old who was in his reclining chair " Everything 
 seems to have been splendid and no harm done." 
 
 "Just so! Tiptop I" said Polly and Taddie 
 in one breath. 
 
 "And the blind little girl?" asked their 
 mother. 
 
 " Just as lovely as she can be," said Roland. 
 
 " Ever so sweet and nice," said Polly. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! and I had two pieces of frosted 
 cake and two saucers of ice-cream," said Bert. 
 
 " And what does Maud think of the party? " 
 asked her father, taking her to his knee. 
 
 " Think it 'markable," she said with a comical 
 litle laugh, in which they all joined. 
 
 Grandma came from the parlor " What did 
 you do at the party, dear? " 
 
 " Sit on 'e g'ass 'n hide 'e shoe." 
 
 " Lizzie Wrendike will sing and play at the 
 circus," said Polly. 
 
 " At the circus? " asked Mrs. Marston in 
 amazement. 
 
 " Yes. At Taddie's and mine." 
 
 " How long have you had a circus? I'd like 
 to know?" asked her father. 
 
 "Haven't had it yet," said Taddie, "Dun 
 can't play his tricks quite well enough." 
 
 " I s'pose papa, you and mama will let us. 
 It's for the lame boy. We could have it right in 
 the parlor and the library," said Polly.
 
 230 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Marston exchanged looks. The 
 library lamp shone full on Mr. Marston's face; 
 Tad, all anxiety, had fixed his eyes upon it, and 
 was troubled by its varying emotions. But the 
 frowning brow wasn't equal to the mobile, 
 mirthful lips a laugh conquered; it was one 
 of Mr. Marston's gayest, and so contagious that 
 there was a general explosion from all but Tad 
 and Polly. 
 
 " I don't see what everybody's laughing at," 
 remarked Tad very soberly. " He's been a 
 dreadful dreadful, what was it Miss Maria 
 said, Polly? " 
 
 "An invalid a very great sufferer. And he 
 wants to be an artist. Yes, and he must have 
 a book to learn how." 
 
 " How do you know all this? Who is Miss 
 Maria? " 
 
 "Why, papa! don't you know? She is Miss 
 Mordaunt, she told us when we sat for Dunnie's 
 and Tad's picture." 
 
 " O Pollywog ! Now you've told, and there 
 won't be any s'prise! " His tones were distress 
 ing. 
 
 " Go on, Polly," said their father ; " I must 
 know about this lame boy and the picture that 
 I suppose he is making, of Taddie and the dog." 
 
 " O no ! He isn't," Tad rejoined instantly. 
 " Miss Maria is making the picture."
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 231 
 
 " Now you've told. So we're even," said 
 Polly. 
 
 " Miss Maria Mordaunt is the artist, as I un 
 derstand," observed Mr. Marston. 
 
 " Yes, yes sir," returned Polly. 
 
 " And the lame boy, too. But he isn't making 
 our picture," said Tad excitedly. 
 
 " Let me explain," grandmother said in her 
 quiet, low tones. 
 
 In a few minutes Mr. and Mrs. Marston had a 
 full account of Miss Mordaunt's offer, of the 
 sitting for the picture, and what the children 
 had heard about the lame boy, and what per 
 formances they intended to have at the circus. 
 
 " Oh, well," said Mr. Marston, " if your 
 mother is willing to have her rooms opened for 
 entertainments for the public, it's not for me to 
 interdict." 
 
 ("Dear me," thought Tad, "I'm glad I'm 
 learning definitions. I'll find out that hard 
 word to-morrow, if it's in my speller.") 
 
 " In the cause of charity, I'm willing to do 
 my best," said their mother. But I must know 
 what the programme of performance is, and 
 shall take the liberty to refuse anything of which 
 I don't approve." 
 
 Maud had gone to sleep. Her head rested 
 comfortably against her father's breast. He 
 carried her to the nursery and left her in
 
 232 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 Susan's care, and all who had been at the party 
 went to their rooms. 
 
 The delicious coolness of the evening was 
 tempting, and the rest remained a while longer 
 on the veranda. When Mr. Marston came down 
 again, he had waited till the boys had gone 
 through their athletics, he advised all Harold, 
 especially, to come within doors. " The dew is 
 falling, my son," he said, " its dampness may 
 bring back your cough, which I am glad to 
 notice has left you." 
 
 " It is a great deal better, father," he returned. 
 " I wish I could say it has really left me ; but, at 
 times, it makes itself too persistent yet." 
 
 Ruth took Harold's spruce pillow and his 
 slumber roll from his reclining chair and went 
 to the library with him. She seemed pleased to 
 have opportunity to do something for him. 
 
 " Thank you, cousin Ruth," he said, as he 
 seated himself. " That pillow is in just the 
 right place for my tired back. Now, the roll, 
 please." 
 
 She arranged the roll deftly. 
 
 " Thanks, many. You seem to know an inva 
 lid's needs." 
 
 She smiled, and brought a hassock for his 
 feet and the small cushions for the arms of his 
 chair that he sometimes called for. 
 
 " Not those to-night," he said. " Now take
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 233 
 
 Polly's little chair and sit close by me and tell 
 me something about Willie." 
 
 The girl burst into tears; but she brought the 
 chair and seated herself as he requested. He 
 took one of her hands in his. He could hear 
 Tom's merry laugh at something Edith had said, 
 and Mrs. Mordaunt's light rejoinder, and the low 
 undertone of his grandmother as if in expostu 
 lation. They were still on the veranda. His 
 father and mother had gone to the dining-room. 
 He felt distressed at the careless words of his 
 aunt Maria, while her daughter, here at his side, 
 was in such grief. He could not speak, and 
 Ruth sobbed audibly. For a few minutes they 
 sat thus, the conversation on the veranda be 
 coming gradually restrained. 
 
 He was at a loss for words, though he wanted 
 to console Ruth. The sobs soon ceased, however, 
 and she said timidly " I didn't suppose any of 
 the relations would care to hear anything more 
 about him. Mama says he has disgraced the 
 family. But he was good and nice till he went 
 away. And he was so kind, and so afraid of 
 doing anything wrong, I don't see how he could 
 be so wicked all at once." 
 
 " Then he never had any trouble, never made 
 your father any trouble, nor your mother, 
 before? " 
 
 " No, indeed, cousin Harold. When papa was 
 alive and we were on the ranch, oh ! how he did
 
 234 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 work ! There wasn't a cow-boy so good for miles 
 and miles. He'd go with the stock days and 
 days, and get lame and tired and everything; 
 and say when he was a man he'd work harder 
 still, and buy mama a nice house in the city, and 
 nice handsome dresses for her and for me. And 
 didn't he work to get ready to go to Denver? 
 And wasn't he the gladdest boy that ever was 
 when he found Mr. Doakson would pay him for 
 working in his store? I can't think what he'll 
 do with so much money either three hundred 
 dollars, just think of it? We had a dreadful 
 cheap tenement, and we only had real common 
 things to eat, and Willie and I didn't have new 
 clothes, nor anything that costs much money. 
 He'd laugh, and say we'd be rich enough for 
 everthing when he was a man. And he always 
 brought his pay home every Saturday for mama 
 to use for what we had to eat. He only took the 
 club-money out of his pay the base-ball money, 
 I mean. Mama said he ought to have that for 
 his health." 
 
 "Wasn't he well?" 
 
 " Not very, had headaches, and couldn't sleep 
 much and looked pale. And people said he must 
 have outdoor exercise, and base-ball would be 
 good. I hope he isn't sick now. And I wish, oh, 
 I wish he would come home. But we haven't 
 any home now. And I'm so lonely ! Oh, dear ! " 
 She burst again into tears.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 235 
 
 " Oh, yes, you have," Harold said hurriedly. 
 " Your home is here with us. Papa wants yau to 
 feel that it is. 
 
 " You can't make it feel the same as your very 
 own if it isn't, and I keep thinking so every 
 night; and crying, because Willie must be sorry 
 he's done so wrong, and would like to tell us so, 
 but he can't. I should like to go right back to 
 Denver, to be there if he should come, he'd feel 
 so badly not to have a home." 
 
 " You forget, dear, that if he should return to 
 Denver, most likely he'd meet some one who 
 would tell him where you and your mother are. 
 Mr. Stearns would be sure to see him very soon, 
 and be very kind to him too. You mustn't worry 
 any more about it. I'm glad he's been so good 
 and so kind to you and your mother." 
 
 Grandmother Marston in going to her room 
 stopped to say good night. Ruth rose to go, for 
 she heard her mother wondering where she had 
 gone, moping away by herself; she wished she 
 could teach her better manners." 
 
 Harold took her hand again and advised her 
 to try to feel less lonely and to come to him 
 when she felt sad and unhappy. " We think per 
 haps Willie will come here to us some time and 
 tell us why he went away." 
 
 She smiled, drew a deep breath, and went up 
 stairs.
 
 236 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 SITTING FOR A PORTRAIT. 
 
 MRS. MARSTON felt that courtesy required a 
 call on Mrs. Sinclair and her sister to acquaint 
 then with her husband's letter from Calcutta, 
 and what they had learned about Richard Ham 
 ilton. After Mr. Marston's interview with Dr. 
 Houghton, she took the first opportunity to go 
 there when she thought the sisters would both 
 be at home and at leisure. But, much to her re 
 gret, Miss Maria had gone to a club meeting. 
 Mrs. Sinclair was " highly gratified " to receive 
 this attention from her new neighbor and when 
 she found that reliable information had been re 
 ceived concerning Dr. Hamilton, her amazement 
 was " beyond expression." " Maria will be re 
 joiced, she has always believed he'd turn up some 
 where, somehow," she said. " I gave him up long 
 ago. Not that I shouldn't have been glad to 
 have him come forward again, far from it. But 
 he was always a worry, from a child, full of 
 queer notions, and keeping everybody in the
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 237 
 
 neighborhood expecting all sorts of mischief. 
 Maria, though, wouldn't hear a word said against 
 him ever." 
 
 " She and he were friends, I think you have 
 said," returned Mrs. Marston. 
 
 " Friends? yes, indeed. If that smash-up 
 hadn't taken place just as it did, I believe she 
 would have gone to the ends of the earth with 
 him." 
 
 "And there he is now," was Mrs. Marston's 
 merry response; "and so you have your sister 
 yet" 
 
 " Oh ! the fellow meant well, I firmly believe 
 that. But he had weak judgment and a vacil 
 lating will, and was reckless in his ambition to 
 become noted for something or other. Took a 
 turn after leaving college towards scientific mat 
 ters ; and, you see, he hadn't the means to carry 
 out such large ideas. His father supplied him 
 with funds till he found his schemes never would 
 be made available ; and then, well, I may as well 
 say he took all that my brother was willing to 
 spare from his share of our property." 
 
 " Your brother Henry? " asked the astonished 
 Mrs. Marston. 
 
 " Yes. Henry was easily persuaded, and was 
 just going to marry Maria Marston, your hus 
 band's sister. And Henry wished to stand well 
 in the estimation of the Hamilton's, (Squire
 
 238 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 Hamilton being at that time the great man of 
 Pippoton) and Richard and he had been mates 
 at school. But there it was. Richard had the 
 money, but never refunded ; and poor Henry had 
 to make the best of it, ended his days off in a 
 Colorado ranch. So his widow and children had 
 to come here for her brother Philip to support." 
 
 " A hard case, looked at from any point ; " re 
 turned Mrs. Marston. " How far ambition will 
 carry its victims! Richard is no more culpable 
 on that score than hundreds of others who do 
 business on borrowed capital. Inventors have 
 much to contend with, (even if they succeed in 
 getting their ideas patented) from their less- 
 gifted fellows/' remarked Mrs. Marston. 
 
 " The squire's last days were made miserable 
 by all the sneers and innuendoes of the vil 
 lagers," said Mrs. Sinclair. " I was glad that 
 Mrs. Hamilton was spared the mortification; 
 but the sister couldn't remain here long after 
 the explosion, she was too proud to be the butt 
 of so much ridicule." 
 
 " According to my brother's letter, he has now 
 succeeded, and has obtained a patent for a val 
 uable invention. I wish I could have seen your 
 sister, no doubt she'll be pleased at the favorable 
 news. And I want to thank her for her interest 
 in my children. Pauline and Thaddeus are very 
 happy in their acquaintance with her; the pic-
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 239 
 
 ture, too, that she is painting for them I shall 
 hope to see before long. Please come in both 
 of you and let us be friends as well as neigh 
 bors." 
 
 Harold had been hoping for some weeks to 
 feel able to go to the pond, " small lake," Polly 
 called it. He set off this morning. Polly had 
 followed him, and they two were seated on the 
 bench in the shade of >the willows. Tad soon 
 came along and Duncan seemed rejoiced to be 
 called by Harold. And Harold proposed that 
 the dog should remain with him, when he re 
 turned to the house he would see that he was 
 secured in the barn; it was necessary to fasten 
 him there unless he was under some one's eye. 
 For he loved to rove, and a farmer in the vicinity 
 had complained, because some of his sheep had 
 been killed, of dogs allowed to go at large. 
 
 " I don't believe Dunnie would do such a 
 thing," was Tad's indignant comment. 
 
 " Perhaps not. But we don't know. It is 
 dog's nature, inherited from their wild ances 
 tors," Harold said. "And it is difficult to 
 break them of that propensity." 
 
 ("A hard word," said Tad to himself. " I'm 
 glad I'm learning definitions.") 
 
 "Did you speak?" asked Harold. 
 
 " I didn't say much of anything. But do you 
 suppose, Oldie it would be harder for dogs to
 
 240 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 learn not to worry and kill sheep than for me 
 to learn definitions and remember them?" 
 
 " I can't suppose anything of that sort," Har 
 old replied tenderly. " They can be taught and 
 be ruled much more easily by kindness than by 
 blows and harsh treatment." 
 
 " Come, Taddie; Ruth passed by to school just 
 now," said Polly. " Let's overtake her, and we'll 
 always be kind to Dun, go he won't remember 
 any ugly ways." 
 
 The pond lilies afloat near the edge of the 
 water were a delightful study to Harold. Their 
 white cups, filled with the gold-colored filaments 
 of stamens seemed to have taken the sunshine 
 and made it their own; for the yellow stamens 
 in many of the flowers were becoming petals. 
 Duncan lay contentedly stretched at his feet as 
 he sat there. A stylish team drove rapidly up 
 the road making a clatter and no little dust. It 
 came directly toward the willows and a young 
 man hitched up the reins and leaped to the 
 ground before the horse had actually come to a 
 stand-still. 
 
 " Hi ! Marston ! " he cried. " This is fine. 
 Didn't dream of finding you set up in regulation 
 order, travelling round the country, and that 
 sort of thing, like any hardy son of the soil. 
 How many miles can you take a day? " 
 
 Harold seized the outstretched hand with the
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 241 
 
 ardor of warm friendship and the young man 
 took the vacant seat at his side. " This is my 
 longest walk ; you san see how far I have come," 
 and pointed to the house. 
 
 " Not half a sabbath day's journey of the old 
 Jews. But, bless you, old fellow, it's a gain, a 
 handsome gain over your last weeks at Hillsford. 
 Isn't it, now? Don't you feel that it is? " 
 
 " Yes, it is ; and I am glad, truly glad, Dins- 
 more, of even the least gain. But, oh! if you 
 knew how I envy you your strong health! You 
 are in excellent condition. What a splendid 
 physique ! and the muscles, like iron ! " 
 
 He grasped Dinsmore's arm as he spoke. You 
 are in high feather for study, or for athletics, 
 either, if you choose to make them your hobby." 
 
 " Granted ! but you've no reason to complain. 
 After the hard lines of that cough and its con 
 comitants of the spring, this is beyond value, 
 this outdoor life. I can see see, my good chap 
 pie, that you've drunk in any quantity of pure 
 oxygen up here, without any mixture of phos 
 phates or hydrates, or any compound whatso 
 ever, Nature's own elixir. And with no aid from 
 any inhaler but your own lungs, eh?" 
 
 Harold nodded assent. 
 
 " I thought so. It's given you rich red blood, 
 this ozone of the atmosphere here (I'm sensible
 
 242 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 of it myself this very instant), and it's building 
 up your system like a house afire." 
 
 Harold laughed. " I guess you've been read 
 ing that old Greek who said the beginning is 
 half of the whole. No more of this, now. What 
 of your status? How has the preliminary 
 gone? " 
 
 Dinsmore groaned in mock distress. " The 
 narrowest chance in the world. Escaped by 
 the skin of my teeth." 
 
 "Conditions?" 
 
 " None, I'm thankful to say." 
 
 "Oh! I call that coming off with flying 
 colors." 
 
 " Five mortal hours, Marston. Now, comes 
 the final in September. That will tell the whole 
 story, and black enough, as you'll see then." 
 
 "Now, Dinsmore, what's the use? .1 know 
 your abilities, it's too bad to underrate them, 
 it's all false modesty. There's no question in 
 my mind about the result of your final. I wish 
 I might be in it with you. But I've about made 
 up my mind to give up my fight for college." 
 
 " You shall not, you must not," said Dinsmore 
 bringing his right foot with such emphasis to 
 the ground that the water of the pond trembled 
 and circled away from the brink. " You are 
 coming out of this setback all right, only wait 
 a little longer."
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 243 
 
 " No," said Harold firmly. If I regain health, 
 which I believe I am now in a fair way to do, 
 I cannot get through my studies in less than 
 four or five years, this sickness has so belated 
 me. I ought to be in active business before 
 that time; and could easily find agreeable em 
 ployment any day in which I should be as use 
 ful as if I had spent so many years over books." 
 
 " And all our dreams of college-life together 
 given up ! I wish I hadn't gone so far, if you are 
 not coming, 'twon't be half the good for me." 
 
 " How far do you intend to drive this morn 
 ing? " asked Harold. 
 
 " I only thought of going to Pleasant Hill to 
 see how you are getting on, and have a few 
 bright thoughts of yours." 
 
 " Suppose we go there now. I want you to 
 have the view from the front veranda." 
 
 Dinsmore agreed, assisted Harold into the ve 
 hicle and drove there, Duncan trotting behind, 
 and, in obedience to his recent training, going 
 immediately to his place in the barn. 
 
 Harold called Dinsmore's attention to the 
 dog's sedate conduct, and spoke of the tricks 
 Taddie was teaching him and of the perform 
 ance soon to take place in aid of the lame boy 
 whose infirmities were mentioned in detail. 
 
 " Arthur Baldwin ! it must be he," said Dins- 
 more. " My mother is well acquainted with the
 
 244 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 boy's aunt who has had the care of him since 
 his parents' death three years ago. Miss Bald 
 win is a very intelligent lady. She belongs to 
 a noted Southern family. Her father was once 
 wealthy. The boy is said to be intellectual, has 
 some talent for painting, and hopes to become 
 an artist," 
 
 While Dinsmore talked he and Harold came 
 up the terrace steps of the front lawn and reach 
 ing the veranda, stood gazing around them. " I 
 am glad to know so much about the boy, shall 
 help the children to do what they can for him," 
 Harold said, "and, now, isn't this a fine view? 
 Even a glimpse of the ocean, see there toward 
 the east. If that boy can sketch, we'll have him 
 here to take this. It might be the making of 
 him." 
 
 " You are right, Marston. I don't believe 
 there could be found a better subject, not one of 
 greater variety, certainly, in the state." 
 
 From this Harold took him where the river 
 was seen beyond the pines, the little arched 
 bridge and the boat-house; all which was duly 
 admired. Then they had a look at the garden. 
 
 " Now," said Dinsmore, " I want to see the 
 closed balcony, that there has been such a hue 
 and cry about, with its rattling wires and flam 
 ing wheel. You've never said a word about it,
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 245 
 
 and do you know, it's made Pleasant Hill famous 
 with wonder-mongers for some years." 
 
 " A most absurd deceit ! " said Harold. " I 
 sometimes lose all patience with the gabbling 
 gossips that come to our servants and fill their 
 heads with such frightful stories that they get 
 into panics; they are nearly convinced now, by 
 my father's stern and wise course with them, 
 that we are driving off the bad spirits, if there 
 were ever any here." He closed with a merry 
 laugh. Back again on the veranda, they had a 
 chat about Hillsford friends. 
 
 Mrs. Marston had seen the vehicle at the 
 hitching post, and came to welcome her son's 
 guest. She made kind enquiries about his 
 mother and other relatives; and of the result 
 of his examination, was pleased to hear of his 
 success and invited him to remain and take 
 lunch. He was obliged to decline on account of 
 an engagement at noon. Regretting that his 
 stay must be so short, she left them to attend to 
 some pressing housekeeping duties. Surprised 
 to hear the clock strike twelve, Dinsmore sprang 
 to his feet, and promising to come often during 
 the summer bade Harold keep up courage and 
 discard the notion of discontinuing his prepara 
 tion for college; then jumped into the buggy 
 and dashed over the road to Hillsford at a furi 
 ous rate.
 
 246 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 Mrs. Marston was pleased to know that Mrs. 
 Dinsmore knew the lame boy and his aunt. She 
 advised Polly and Tad to have the circus the 
 next week.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 247 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE BALCONY TO BE OPENED. 
 
 HAVING decided that the circus was soon to 
 take place, the Marston family, the younger por 
 tion, particularly, made it the most important 
 subject for thought and speech, and of as much 
 action as could be spared from everyday duties. 
 
 Mr. Marston said one evening to his wife. " I 
 have spoken to Darley about clearing out those 
 closed rooms. He and Brown are not especially 
 busy just now, and while the children's heads 
 are full of circus affairs, they won't be so ready 
 to get into an excitement over the opening of the 
 " closed balcony " as I find most of the villagers 
 call it." 
 
 "Why not have it done to-morrow?" she re 
 turned. 
 
 " I think I will," he rejoined. " Darley need 
 only work there while the children are at school, 
 it seems to me." 
 
 " And in this fine weather he can manage so 
 as to accomplish it, and get rid of all the rubbish
 
 248 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 and smut and grime before they can have a 
 chance to speculate and discover." 
 
 " Taddie had such an experience there, he 
 might perhaps keep away," said Mr. Marston. 
 But I shouldn't like to trust Roland and Robert 
 among the rubbish. I'll see about it the first 
 thing to-morrow." 
 
 Great was Taddie's and Polly's astonishment 
 on returning from school two days later, to see 
 a load of lumber at the side entrance, and Mr. 
 Goodwin and other carpenters at work in the 
 balcony, that was fast becoming a fine, roomy 
 apartment, while the waste heap was bristling 
 with all sorts of dilapidated utensils, crooked 
 wires, and the usual debris from a demolished 
 machine shop. And the next change, and that 
 called for close inspection, was all the parapher 
 nalia of a firstclass gymnasium properly set up 
 for immediate use there, greatly to the joy of 
 all the household, for feminine as well as mascu 
 line members were to find therein new strength 
 and higher health. 
 
 In arranging the programme for the circus, 
 Polly was allowed to gratify her taste first, 
 which was for plenty of music, though the boys 
 wished for all sorts of exploits with balls and 
 bars and ropes. Edith determined to have the 
 affair managed as quietly as possible. She had 
 heard of rough and noisy arrangements in cir-
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 249 
 
 cuses, and she firmly refused to allow one num 
 ber on the programme that called for boisterous 
 effort or for rude behavior. Polly and Taddie 
 would sing tunes that were familiar, and Edith 
 would play the accompaniments. Lizzie Wren- 
 dike, the blind girl, would sing her favorite 
 pieces. Roland and Robert wished to get up a 
 few scenes of their own individual fancy to be 
 as a surprise. Their mother didn't approve 
 secrecy; finally she gave a reluctant consent on 
 their assertion that they would do nothing im 
 proper, and that they should be the last on the 
 bill. 
 
 In deciding about the music it was necessary 
 to see the blind girl two or three times. Polly 
 went to Mrs. Wrendike's and heard Lizzie play; 
 and twice Lizzie came and practised on Edith's 
 piano, and Mrs. Marston was much pleased with 
 the child's gentle, modest manners. 
 
 Harold offered to write the tickets for admis 
 sion, also the programmes. And with cutting 
 the tickets from cardboard, and arranging the 
 hoops and wands and wheels for Duncan's feats, 
 the boys were kept busy through their out-of- 
 school hours for several days. Polly was to sell 
 the tickets. She disposed of a good many among 
 her schoolmates. She called one day on Miss 
 Maria Mordaunt, told her about the lame boy 
 and what were to be the performances at the
 
 250 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 circus, and hoped she would get money enough 
 from the sale of tickets to buy him all the books 
 on Art he needed. Miss Mordaunt said she knew 
 about the boy, went sometimes to see him, had 
 lent him pictures to copy, and took twenty-five 
 tickets immediately. And Polly, jubilant, went 
 to show the money to her grandmother and leave 
 it in her keeping till the circus was all over. 
 
 At last the day for the circus came, bright and 
 warm. Ruth and Polly rose early, and brought 
 all the chairs in the house to the parlor, and 
 Edith said she hoped they'd every one be filled. 
 Harry Dunn wanted to bring his dog Caesar to 
 show off his tricks. At first the boys were not 
 willing. " It is to be the Marston circus," Tad- 
 die sai,d, with as much of a pout on his full, red 
 lips, as was ever allowed placed there ; but when 
 Roland said it would be giving the people more 
 for their money, Tad told him he might come, and 
 see how Dun would like him. At first Dun 
 growled and snarled at the intruder; then 
 watched in grim silence the learned dog's dis 
 play; and, in proud disdain, refused all cajolings, 
 threats, and even Taddle's bribes of candy to per 
 form the tricks that Taddie and Bert had taught 
 him. " It was as good as a play to see his scorn 
 of the upstart," Harold said afterwards. 
 
 Mr. Sterling, his daughter and Miss Leonard 
 were among the earliest spectators, and after the
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 251 
 
 closing hymn which Lizzie Wrendike chose and 
 sang delightfully, Mr. Sterling expressed the 
 thanks of the audience in a very happy manner, 
 and then handed Polly a dollar as his apprecia 
 tion of the entertainment. 
 
 "A whole silver dollar," said Polly in glad 
 amazement. " We ought to have another circus 
 and give you a free ticket,' sir." 
 
 " When we want more for the lame boy," said 
 he, " I'll be pleased to help." And then Taddie 
 made him one of his best bows and asked him to 
 come again soon. 
 
 Polly counted the money from sale of the 
 tickets two or three times to be sure that it 
 agreed with the number sold. Then, before the 
 sun went down, she and Tad took it in Polly's 
 small work-basket to show Miss Mordaunt, and 
 ask her how many books it would buy for the 
 lame boy. She said that on Monday she would 
 go to the city and buy them, she knew very well 
 what " Arthur wished to have," she said. 
 
 On Tuesday evening came a very pretty note 
 of thanks to Miss Pauline Maria Marston from 
 Arthur Baldwin; in which the hope was ex 
 pressed that she and her brothers would soon 
 come to see him. She didn't know till weeks 
 afterward that the poor crippled boy wrote the 
 note with his pen held tightly between his teeth ;
 
 252 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 and, also, that pencil, and paint brush, he was 
 obliged to use in the same way. 
 
 Miss Mordaunt having finished her picture of 
 Tad and Duncan brought it in one morning. 
 The whole family were pleased with it. Taddie 
 was delighted with Dun's collar in it. " That's 
 the best part, Miss Maria," he said. " I can 
 read ' his brave deeds ' just as plain as it is on the 
 real collar." 
 
 " What do you think of your own part of the 
 picture?" she asked. 
 
 ( Tad's cropped locks were getting long enough 
 to hide most of the bald spots, and on those a 
 new crop was now starting out.) 
 
 " You've made my hair too nice, haven't you? " 
 
 " I think not," ishe returned, appealing to 
 Mrs. Marston. 
 
 " No," said she. " It's my Taddie in his best 
 looks. I thank you very much. We shall prize 
 the portrait highly." 
 
 " You didn't paint his freckles, did you? " said 
 Polly. 
 
 " I think, Miss Mordaunt," said Tad's father, 
 " If I ever have occasion for work in your line 
 I shall come to you; you treat imperfections so 
 tenderly, and idealize the commonplace so well. 
 Under your skilful touch an ordinary man, like 
 myself, would have the bearing and the expres 
 sion of a hero."
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 253 
 
 " Ah ! " she returned, " many a person in the 
 common walks of life is a hero unconsciously. 
 If in the study of a face the artist finds traces of 
 heroism, (they may be unseen by a casual 
 glance) isn't it his duty to represent them? I 
 think so. It is one of my highest pleasures to 
 discover these and to portray them. I shall be 
 very happy at some future time, when I ac 
 quire greater skill with oils to show you what I 
 can find in your face." 
 
 Miss Mordaunt came again the next evening 
 accompanied by Ellen Wrightman, another 
 neighbor. 
 
 The Wrightmans lived on a farm about a quar 
 ter of a mile below the hill. John, Ben, and 
 Frank were the brothers; Ellen and Bertha the 
 sisters. Their parents had both recently died. 
 Ellen was housekeeper and she tried to eke out 
 their small income by keeping summer boarders. 
 She had only two at present, Mrs. Lambert, a 
 southern lady, an invalid; and Miss Johnston, 
 an elderly person, from Boston. John, twenty 
 years old, with Ben's assistance, managed the 
 farm work; Frank and Bertha, were older than 
 Roland and Robert, but in the same class. 
 
 Just as Miss Mordaunt and Ellen Wrightman 
 were leaving, Mr. Marston remembered that Mrs. 
 Sinclair had mentioned that Maria would be 
 glad to hear something about Richard Hamilton,
 
 254 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 so he said he wished to detain her a moment, 
 that he intended answering the letter he had 
 received from his brother James as soon as he 
 had dispatched some important government bus 
 iness, and if she wished to send any message to 
 Dr. Hamilton he would be pleased to pass it on 
 for her, in his letter to that brother. 
 
 The moment he had mentioned Richard Ham 
 ilton's name he saw that he had been too abrupt, 
 and obtuse in bringing it forward, for a deathly 
 pallor, followed by a painful flush, passed rap 
 idly over her features and she seemed ready to 
 faint. With great difficulty she controlled her 
 voice to speak. " I will see you later," she 
 murmured tremulously and passed rapidly from 
 the door. 
 
 Mrs. Marston whispered, " Philip ! how could 
 you ? " in tones of reproach, " Impulsive as 
 ever ! " 
 
 " Yes, yes, and shall be, always, I'm afraid, if 
 I live as long as Methusaleh. But, Mary, you 
 know I never could understand women's nature, 
 nor their sensibilities. I'm afraid I've made her 
 my enemy." 
 
 " She's so diffident, so retiring " 
 
 " Well, well. I shan't, I can't apologize for 
 my rudeness, but I'm sorry. And I'll write the 
 letter to James this very evening, and be all 
 ready to put in her message whenever she brings
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 255 
 
 it. Government business may wait till I get 
 this worry off my mind." 
 
 So saying he betook himself to the library and 
 in the pale moonlight threw himself on the lounge 
 and was soon taking his usual siesta, from which 
 half an hour later Lottie roused him to meet 
 Miss Mordaunt in the parlor. 
 
 " I've come to apologize," said Miss Mordaunt, 
 hurrying eagerly forward, and extending a hand 
 in greeting. " I ought to have called imme 
 diately after my sister was told of the pleasant 
 news you had received from your brother; and 
 when you just now alluded to Dr. Hamilton, I 
 was quite overwhelmed with compunction for 
 my discourtesy in neglecting to do so. I hope 
 you will excuse me, and tell me all you know of 
 the doctor's late experiences." 
 
 " Oh ! really, I can only say that, according to 
 the letter, he is now in prosperous circumstances 
 and in good health. I shall write to James im 
 mediately and tell him how we are situated here, 
 and of the change I have made in the balcony. 
 And he may tell what he sees fit about Pleasant 
 Hill to your friend, the doctor; he is your 
 friend, I presume? " He said this with an up 
 ward, questioning glance. She replied quietly, 
 " You can give my best wishes to the doctor, 
 and the hope that he has kept a small place in 
 his memory for Pleasant Hill and its people."
 
 256 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " Nothing more? " said Mr. Marston. 
 
 "That is all; it's getting late, so good night; 
 and please remember to tell me when you get 
 the next letter." 
 
 Now Lottie had lighted the library lamp and 
 thither Mr. Marston passed, and in consulta 
 tion with his wife and his sister, Mrs. Mordaunt, 
 he wrote the letter that had been such a long 
 time in mind. It was mailed the next day and 
 reached its destination promptly; its contents 
 eagerly repeated to all his brother's friends, 
 Dr. Hamilton begging to be allowed a page in 
 its reply, " to make things straight and fair," 
 he said. 
 
 The Wrightmans were intelligent and well 
 mannered and soon became great friends of the 
 Marston. 
 
 The fourth of July drew near. The Wright- 
 mans and the Wrendikes were invited to a pic 
 nic by Mrs. Marston, to be held that day in the 
 pine grove. Roland and Robert and Thaddeus 
 spent all their earnings for two weeks in buying 
 firecrackers. Polly had a few pull crackers and 
 torpedos that her father gave her, he also dis 
 tributed a few bunches of crackers among the 
 boys, who, grandmother Marston said, made 
 noise enough for an army. Ruth and her mother 
 were much out-of-sorts. 
 
 When dinner was over and the younger chil-
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 257 
 
 dren so tired they wanted to come to the house, 
 Mr. Marston brought forward the fire works he 
 had provided for the evening. At the sight of 
 them all fatigue fled; every boy was eager for 
 the display. After dark Tom, under his father's 
 direction, let them off. Ruth cried through the 
 whole. She told Harold she couldn't help the 
 thoughts of the previous Fourth, when she was in 
 Denver, and there was a grand celebration, and 
 she and Willie were together and very happy. 
 Mrs. Marston tried to say something comforting 
 to the child. But it did no good; both she and 
 her mother, at last, went to bed, feeling sick and 
 sad. 
 
 Before the week was out, a copy of the Denver 
 News came to Mr. Marston by mail in which was 
 an account of a robbery of Mr. Doakson's store 
 and of the disappearance of Simpkins and Wal 
 ton. Money, and a large quantity of valuable 
 goods had been taken, evidently by these sales 
 men, and the police were on their track. Contra 
 dictory rumors were afloat. The most trust 
 worthy pointed to their escape eastward, and 
 detectives in the northern and eastern cities 
 were looking out for them. 
 
 " Now we shall get a letter from Stearns," said 
 Mr. Marston. " I suppose, Mary, though you do 
 not exult at wrong-doing, you are confirmed in 
 your opinion of William Mordaunt's innocence."
 
 258 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 "Yes, how could I be otherwise? And I am 
 truly glad for Maria and Ruth." 
 
 The next day a letter arrived from Mr. Doak- 
 son, in which that gentleman regretted ; that 
 when the previous robbery occurred, he had not 
 taken steps to prove young Mordaunt's inno 
 cence. He was now convinced that Walton and 
 Simpkins were the culprits. If the boy had been 
 found and brought to trial their true character 
 would have been shown, and, probably this rob 
 bery prevented. 
 
 Mrs. Mordaunt and Ruth were deeply inter 
 ested in the newspaper report, and shocked to 
 hear that the men in whom they had trusted had 
 proved so wicked. They did not say that now 
 they believed these men had themselves been 
 guilty of the crime attributed to William, but 
 they were more ready to speak of William's good 
 conduct. Mr. Doakson's letter gave them much 
 comfort. 
 
 " Oh ! Mr. Doakson is one of the kindest 
 men," Mrs. Mordaunt said. " I feel persuaded 
 that he will try to find William." 
 
 " Did you ever think, Maria, that William may 
 have tried to go to his uncle in Calcutta? " asked 
 Mrs. Marston. 
 
 " Why, no ! " she rejoined. " We sometimes 
 spoke about James. I suppose if he had money 
 enough he could have gone on the Denver and
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 259 
 
 Pacific railway to San Francisco, and from there 
 by steamer. It seems to me, however, that if he 
 were in trouble he wouldn't go to his uncle. I 
 suppose he is working somewhere to earn money 
 to send to me; because he knows that I de 
 pended, in a great measure upon what he could 
 earn." 
 
 "James isn't in Calcutta now, you know. I 
 hope he hasn't gone there," said grandmother. 
 
 Yet nearly a month passed and nothing 
 further was heard. 
 
 Harold continued to improve in health 
 but grandmother Marston grew more feeble. 
 Whether her thoughts of the unfortunate boy, 
 by undeserved censure exiled from home and 
 friends, had anything to do with her failing 
 strength was often a question between her son 
 Philip and his wife. But they kept their con 
 jectures to themselves. 
 
 The August vacation had begun. The chil 
 dren were continually in the woods, or rambling 
 over the fields. Taddie wanted Dun's company 
 in these excursions, but his father wouldn't al 
 low the dog to be taken from the premises ; there 
 was so much said of burglaries in the adjoining 
 villages and Brown and Darley were getting so 
 nervous at the reports. Sidney Wrendike and 
 sometimes Lizzie went with the children, or 
 Harry Dunn and his dog, of whose remarkable
 
 260 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 intelligence and accomplishmens Harry, since 
 the circus, was slow to speak. At times Harold 
 would go a short distance with them and then 
 return home. 
 
 And Harold took his daily morning walk regu 
 larly, unless the weather was wet. Meeting, on 
 several occasions, a young man who seemed not 
 much acquainted with Pippoton roads, yet eager 
 to discover all their attractions, he mentioned 
 him to Ellen Wrightman the evening that she 
 called with Miss Mordaunt. She said he must 
 be the rector of the new chapel on the Valley. 
 A few mornings later, Harold was pleased to 
 meet the gentleman, in company with Miss 
 Wrightman, near the chapel ; service there had 
 just closed, and Miss Wrightman gave Harold 
 an introduction, after which scarcely a morning 
 passed during the following summer months 
 without an interview between these two lovers of 
 Nature, and a strong friendship resulted which 
 soon included the whole Marston family. 
 
 When Mrs. Marston saw that they could 
 reach, by a straight cut across their own 
 grounds, the new chapel, in less than five min 
 utes, she had begun attendance there and taken 
 Mrs. Mordaunt and Kuth. Harold found Mr. 
 Walker so interesting in conversation that he 
 wished his father to meet him; so one Sunday 
 they also attended the service. Polly and Tad,
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 261 
 
 finding the path across the fields attractive, fol 
 lowed them. 
 
 When the chapel was reached the Rev. Archi 
 bald Walker had gained all these new additions 
 to his fold. Before the week was out he had 
 visited them at their home. Grandmother was 
 charmed with his cordial, unaffected manners, 
 and all the boys ready, as Tom afterwards said, 
 "to fight under his banner," against all the as 
 persions that the villagers cast upon the gilt cross 
 on the chapel-spire and upon the " night-gowned 
 boys who sang prayers." 
 
 And Thaddeus Thomdike Marston had the 
 proudest and happiest day of his life when he 
 was allowed to don a white cotta, and to sing 
 the Venite, and the Glorias in the morning ser 
 vice. Pauline, his sister, was as proud and as 
 happy as he, and on that first morning, anxious 
 that he should make a favorable " first impres 
 sion," (as when he first entered the Pippoton 
 graded school) she followed him to the choir 
 room. She had surreptitiously concealed in her 
 pocket-handkerchief his dressing-comb, and she 
 was determined that, the cotta being properly 
 fitted and adjusted by the ladies of the Guild, 
 his hair should be no discredit to him. Taddie 
 was shocked became crimson, then frightfully 
 pale at Polly's assurance. The new growth of 
 the carroty locks was rebellious, needed frequent
 
 262 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 correction, as Taddie well knew bnt to be at 
 tended to, here in the church I Still Polly kept 
 on with her motherly attention to the stubborn 
 head-gear, and whispering " First impres- 
 sions," subdued both Taddie's rebellious temper 
 and the recalcitrant locks to the amusement of 
 the ladies of the guild, and, subsequently, to the 
 satisfaction of Thaddeus himself. 
 
 The August vacation was about half over. At 
 the close of one hot day, when the air seemed too 
 oppressive for any kind of sport, all the boys 
 were lounging on the grass at the shady side of 
 the house. The rest of the family were on the 
 veranda. 
 
 " I wish somebody or something would come," 
 said Taddie. " Vacation is dreadful tiresome." 
 
 " There's someone or something now," said 
 Roland. 
 
 "John Wrightman and Ellen!" exclaimed 
 Robert 
 
 "Good!" said Roland. 
 
 John Wrightman had come to see if Mr. Mars- 
 ton was willing to let Tom and Robert and Rol 
 and camp out with his brother Ben and himself 
 the next week, and if these boys would like to 
 try camping with them. 
 
 Tad quickly begged an invitation which was 
 as quickly granted. Mr. Marston had no objec 
 tion if they wouldn't go far from home.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 263 
 
 The boys were wild with delight when John 
 said " Only half a mile over the hill," and their 
 mother added: "They couldn't expect to camp 
 nearer." 
 
 " You might drive over and spend a day with 
 us," said John. 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Marston. " We'll come over 
 with the ladies." " Now preparing the outfit is 
 next in order. Edith must have an eye to the 
 culinary department." 
 
 " Wear your oldest clothes, boys," said John. 
 "And just go in for the jolliest time you ever 
 thought of." 
 
 Ellen came from the library where she had 
 been looking over the August magazines. She 
 said she guessed John had forgotten the lecture 
 in the chapel to which they must go, and with 
 hasty good-bys, they closed the interview.
 
 264 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 A CHAIN OF CIRCUMSTANCES. 
 
 " Bertha, dear," said Ellen Wrightman one 
 morning, " Miss Johnston has scarcely any salt 
 for her egg. You ought to have filled the salt 
 cellars." 
 
 Bertha rose instantly from the table, went to 
 the dining-room closet and hurriedly laid hold 
 of the salt bag. It slipped from her hand and 
 the contents fell to the floor. Her cool, calm 
 temperament was not easily disturbed. She 
 knew there was salt in the kitchen closet and 
 from that the salt-cellars were soon replenished. 
 
 Miss Johnson seemed excited and nervous, but 
 she made no allusion to the accident till after 
 breakfast. As she and Mrs. Lambert were on 
 their way to their rooms, she whispered. " I 
 suppose you noticed I didn't take any more 
 salt." 
 
 Mrs. Lambert had not noticed. 
 
 "Then you didn't mind? Well, there's trou 
 ble coming to this house; and if I'd taken some
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 265 
 
 of the salt I should have been liable to have had 
 a share of it, and I'd no idea of running such a 
 risk." 
 
 " I thought that old superstition was exploded 
 long ago," said Mrs*. Lambert. " I don't believe 
 spilling salt is any more likely to bring trouble 
 than spilling sugar." 
 
 " You'll see, you'll see," returned Miss John 
 ston, " and before the day is out. Mark my 
 words. I'm not going to say anything to 
 frighten Ellen; she has cares enough now with 
 out anticipating anything additional. But this 
 is going to be an unfortunate day." 
 
 How far her prognostications were verified 
 will soon be made evident. 
 
 If ever the Wrightmans had know a more 
 prosperous day they were not aware of it, John 
 found a nest of a dozen eggs, in the forenoon, 
 in an old barrel under the barn ; Ben, after din 
 ner, took fishing line and hook, and went to the 
 brook, returned with ten fine perch; Bertha 
 picked from the vines along the wall of the pas 
 ture, three quarts of nice blackberries; Frank 
 sold two tons of hay, and Ellen secured a new 
 boarder. All were in the best of spirits and could 
 not refrain from mentioning their good fortune 
 when Mrs. Lambert and Miss Johnson took their 
 seats at the supper table. Mrs. Lambert, with 
 an amused look, congratulated them ; Miss John-
 
 266 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 ston kept solemn silence, which subdued the 
 boys at once; and the meal went on with its 
 usual decorum. 
 
 It was now Mrs. Lambert's turn to speak of 
 the morning's accident. She had a dry, humor 
 ous way of commenting on matters and things 
 at times, and the complete refutation of Miss 
 Johnston's superstition, by the accounts given 
 by the family of the day's doings, amused her 
 greatly. 
 
 " Don't you wish now you had a share in their 
 trouble, Miss Johnston? If you had taken salt, 
 who knows but you would have had news of a 
 legacy, or something? I begin to regret my dis 
 belief in spilled salt." 
 
 " The day isn't over yet," returned Miss John 
 ston, with a sagacious nod, and the stolid solem 
 nity of an old Greek sybil. 
 
 Immediately after supper John proposed that 
 Ellen should have a long talked of drive to Lant- 
 wood, she had had a busy day and must need 
 recreation. The new boarder wasn't coming till 
 the next week; she would have ample time to 
 prepare for him. John was not so pleased at the 
 prospect of a gentleman-boarder as the rest of 
 the family were. Still, he hoped they would find 
 his society desirable. Taking boarders in the 
 plain, home-like way that Ellen did, had its dis 
 advantages and its aggravations. He hoped this
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 267 
 
 would be the last season she would need to sub 
 ject herself to such trials. 
 
 Though she did not care to go, and dreaded 
 the jolting in the old buggy over the rocky road 
 to Lantwood, she hadn't the heart to deny John 
 the gratification of feeling that he was doing it 
 for her benefit; and, throwing aside Ben's coat 
 that she was trying to furbish with new cuffs 
 and facings, declared she was ready to start. 
 " Bertha must go too," she said ; " Frank and 
 Ben can be house-keepers." 
 
 John drove gaily up Pleasant Hill and along 
 the river road till he came to a turn that led to 
 Lantwood and gave them a view of Mr. Willard's 
 new house. They had heard much of its ele 
 gance, so he went along more leisurely in order 
 to take in all its beauty. 
 
 Ellen had begun to wonder where the accom 
 modations for stock and servants could be when 
 she was startled by a vehicle rushing past, so 
 near as to strike against the wheels of the buggy, 
 and going furiously down the steep road. It 
 was a light wagon occupied by two men. 
 
 "'Jehu, the son of Nimshi,' drives there, I 
 should thing," said John, his face pale at their 
 narrow escape from overturning. 
 
 " Who can it be? " said Ellen. 
 
 " One of them looked like the gentleman who 
 is coming to board next week," said Bertha,
 
 263 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " Perhaps it is he looking around the neigh 
 borhood. I hope he don't expect to drive in that 
 fashion through Pippoton streets," said John. 
 " I'm glad I've had a specimen of his style. 
 He'll not have the handling of reins over Ned or 
 Bob. My horses are not to be treated like steam 
 engines, I can tell him." 
 
 Ruth Mordaunt and Polly Marston were walk 
 ing home from Lizzie Wrendike's as John drove 
 along the road to Pleasant Hill. 
 
 " There's that wagon again," said Bertha. 
 " The men seem to be asking Polly something. 
 It has stopped." 
 
 Presently the wagon moved on, met the 
 Wrightman's buggy, and one of the men raised 
 his hat and bowed to Ellen. " It is the new 
 boarder, but he wasn't the driver," she said. 
 
 " A dashing, dandified chap," said John. " I 
 don't like his looks. What is his name? " 
 
 Ellen at first could not recall the name, but 
 after a moment's thought said, " Freeling, I be 
 lieve. I am not quite sure. I never can remem 
 ber names till they are familiar." 
 
 Ellen asked John to stop a minute while she 
 spoke to Polly, as she had the curiosity to know 
 what the gentleman had said to her. 
 
 " He asked the way to Lantwood and how far 
 it is," replied Polly.
 
 A Vehicle rushing past . . strikes against the wheels of 
 the buggy.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 269 
 
 " He's our new boarder, coming next week," 
 said Bertha. 
 
 " I knew him, but I don't think he knew me," 
 said Ruth " this shade hat comes down so low. 
 It was Mr. Simpkins of Denver. He called at 
 our house twice when we lived in Denver." 
 
 " Oh no, it can't be he that isn't his name," 
 said Ellen. 
 
 John drove on again. " I'm surprised that 
 you should be so inquisitive, Nelly," he said. 
 " It was of no consequence to us, what he said, 
 or where he was going." 
 
 Driving to the Centre, a few minutes chat 
 with the neighboring farmers there, and then 
 the drive home, took longer than John had ex 
 pected ; it was quite dark before he turned into 
 the lane leading to home. There seemed a 
 strange commotion in the house as they drew 
 near; lights, flitting hither and thither through 
 the rooms, and people passing to and fro. A 
 saddled horse was at the hitching-post, and Dr. 
 Mason's gig fastened near the front gate. 
 
 " Something has happened," said Ellen, " per 
 haps one of the boarders is sick." She jumped 
 from the buggy before John had stopped the 
 horse. Bertha followed, and ran on before her, 
 to the door. Mr. Marston came out as they ad 
 vanced, Frank and Ben with him. All were
 
 270 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 talking rapidly. John threw down the reins and 
 dashed toward them in great alarm. 
 
 " Glad you've arrived," said Mr. Marston, hur 
 riedly, " I'll be back soon. Ben will explain," 
 and he mounted his horse and was up the lane 
 and out on the country road in a twinkling. 
 
 Ellen and Bertha were trembling with appre 
 hension. They stood leaning on the fence while 
 John plied Ben with questions. Ruth Mordaunt 
 told him she had seen a man whom she had 
 known in Denver, and that Bertha said he was 
 coming here to board." 
 
 " Oh ! I see now," said John. " Go on. What 
 has taken place since? " 
 
 Ben said that as soon as Ruth had told the 
 story, Mr. Marston rode directly over here to 
 know the truth, and, while he and Frank were 
 talking with him, Mr. Dunn had brought two 
 men who had met with an accident, to stay over 
 night. One of <the men said he had engaged 
 board with Miss Wrightman. It was sooner 
 than she expected to accommodate him, but, as 
 he and his friend had been so unfortunate as to 
 be thrown from a carriage, he hoped she' be kind 
 enough to take them in. Mr. Dunn, returning 
 from market saw them on the roadside one man 
 not able to stand, the other suffering from a 
 wound in the head that bled profusely. They 
 begged his help and he took them into his wagon,
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 271 
 
 and drove according to their directions to Miss 
 Wrightinan's. Mr. Marston had recognized the 
 men had met them in Denver. They were agi 
 tated very much excited when he called them 
 by name. Mr. Marston sent Frank for Dr. 
 Mason, and then he and Ben assisted them into 
 the north bedroom where they now were. Dr. 
 Mason was with them. One man's ankle was 
 so badly sprained he wouldn't be able to walk 
 for weeks. The other he who had engaged 
 board had a dangerous cut in the head which, 
 the weather being so unfavorable, the doctor 
 feared would be fatal. Mr. Marston had gone to 
 Hillsford for a lawyer, and (Ben believed) for 
 a police officer. Mr. Marston had heard of some 
 thing they had done in Denver that wasn't ex 
 actly right. 
 
 Ellen was shocked. " I don't see how I can 
 have them here," she said. "Just think how 
 dreadful it is, John. And those ladies upstairs 
 what will they think? " 
 
 She seemed on the point of crying. 
 
 " The ladies are all right," said Ben. " Frank 
 and I had to answer Mrs. Lambert's bell she 
 was disturbed by the noise. And then Dr. Mason 
 went up and told her and Miss Johnston that 
 the poor fellows were suffering greatly, and 
 must remain. Dr. Mason hasn't heard what Mr. 
 Marston knows about them."
 
 272 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " Of course they must stay," said John. 
 
 "Where else can they go? It would be inhu 
 man to send them into 'the road to die no 
 matter who they are, or what they have done. 
 It is going to be hard on you, Nelly, I know, but 
 we boys, and Bertha, too, will help we must." 
 
 Dr. Mason came from the bedroom to say that 
 one of the men was very anxious to see Mr. Mars- 
 ton ; " His wound is still bleeding," said the doc 
 tor. " If it goes on as it has for the last half 
 hour, he can't live till morning. He has ques 
 tioned me very closely and I have told him his 
 danger. I will remain through the night with 
 the poor fellow." 
 
 It was midnight before Mr. Marston returned. 
 He had sent a telegram to Mr. Doakson ; had se 
 cured a lawyer and a policeman, and had called 
 at his own home and told his wife he shouldn't 
 leave the Wrightmans till morning, perhaps not 
 then. 
 
 Mrs. Marston was slow to comprehend the 
 fact that Walton and Simpkins were so near; 
 She went to Grandmother Marston to ask her 
 opinion of the matter. 
 
 " It is not at all improbable, Mary," she said, 
 in reply to what Mrs. Marston told her; 
 " merely a chain of circumstances, simple and 
 natural enough, have brought about this result." 
 
 " So singular that the real culprits should be
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 273 
 
 sent, as it were, to our very doors," she re 
 turned. " You know Who orders all things, my 
 dear, and how useless it is 'to try to escape the 
 consequences of sin." 
 
 Mrs. Mordaunt and Ruth were asleep. Mrs. 
 Marston looked in and concluded not to disturb 
 them and soon retired herself. At daybreak she 
 was astir, aroused Tom, and sent him to his 
 father, but, before Tom had gone half way he 
 met his father, and they returned to Pleasant 
 Hill together. 
 
 Mr. Marston had a sorrowful account of the 
 night's events to give his wife. He assured her 
 that there was no mistake (as she had feared 
 there might be) for the men had established 
 their identity before a lawyer, had confessed 
 their guilt and expressed contrition. Walton 
 was now in custody, in the keeping of a police 
 man, according to instructions received in re 
 sponse io a telegram he had despatched to Mr. 
 Doakson. Simpkins had died just before day 
 light; and Walton, no less by his mental dis 
 tress than by his physical suffering was reduced 
 to a most deplorable condition. It was too much 
 to expect of the Wrightmans, situated as they 
 were to keep him and the policeman till he was 
 able to go to Denver, and he had arranged with 
 Dr. Mason's approval for his removal to Pleas 
 ant Hill. He could occupy the guest chamber,
 
 274 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 which as she know, was quite secluded. Wal 
 ton was not to be considered at all in the ques 
 tion, for he was under police control, and would 
 be, until delivered to Denver authorities. 
 
 "And you were right, Mary," continued Mr. 
 Marston, " Simpkins and Walton committed the 
 theft attributed to William Mordaunt. And 
 that poor boy had been fleeced by them in pay 
 ment of fictitious debts to the base ball club. 
 Oh ! Simpkins was a villain ! He had borne an 
 assumed name for years was one of a gang who 
 have a systematized scheme, which they have 
 worked to an almost incredible extent. 
 
 Mrs. Marston had sat gazing at her husband 
 as if horror struck, during this recital. " Oh, 
 Philip ! it is shocking," she said. " Almost too 
 shocking for belief." Covering her face with 
 her hands, she sobbed aloud for a few moments.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 275 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE THIEVES RECEIVE THEIR PUNISHMENT. 
 
 WALTON showed no emotion at Simpkin's 
 death. There was a look in his face like that of 
 an animal when it finds itself, after a des 
 perate fight, in the hands of its captors a 
 dogged, defiant, yet despairing look. He was 
 very reticent, remaining silent except when ques 
 tioned, and then replying in monosyllables. 
 When Dr. Mason left, soon after sunrise, he was 
 apparently free from pain, and the doctor said 
 that by keeping qniet he would remain com 
 fortable, and might be taken any time to Mr. 
 Marston's. Toward noon he was lifted by his 
 keeper and John Wrightman to a wagon and 
 slowly driven there. Made a prisoner by the in 
 jury to his ankles, there was no need of irons, 
 and he was spared that ignominy. 
 
 Mrs. Marston was careful to arrange matters 
 in her family in such a manner that Walton 
 might arrive and be taken to the room prepared 
 for him, without meeting anyone but Mrs. Mars-
 
 276 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 ton. Mrs. Mordaunt wished to look upon him 
 as he passed in. " No, Maria, said Mrs. Mars- 
 ton firmly, " I am not willing. If the man has 
 any sense of shame for his conduct, or any re 
 morse for his treatment of Willie, he shall not 
 be subjected to any unnecessary suffering while 
 he is in my house." 
 
 He was well aware that Mrs. Mordaunt and 
 her two remaining children left Denver with Mr. 
 and Mrs. Marston, but had not known in what 
 part of New England the Marstons lived. When 
 Simpkins inquired the way to Lantwood, he 
 recognized Ruth. And that discovery led to 
 such impatience with the horse as to cause the 
 over-throw which brought Simpkins to his death, 
 and made him a prisoner. His keeper attended 
 to all his wants; and in the remote part of the 
 house where he was placed, nothing was 1 heard 
 or seen of the family. Several days passed thus, 
 and he was momently expecting the arrival of 
 the sheriff from Colorado. He wished to see 
 Mrs. Mordaunt before leaving; for his treatment 
 of William hung heavily upon his conscience. 
 Down under the hard crusts of envy and covet- 
 ousness that, after his acquaintance with Simp- 
 kins, he had allowed to gather in his heart, lay 
 a tender, warm spot, still ready to mark the dif 
 ference and to feel it keenly between right 
 and wrong. And this would give him no rest,
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 277 
 
 now that he felt persuaded that this injured 
 mother, whom he had wounded through the hurt 
 which he had given her son, was near. In his 
 lonely chamber, with no one to speak to but his 
 keeper, at long intervals, and with nothing to 
 occupy the time, thought was busy. His own 
 mother's anguish of mind at his misconduct, of 
 which she was at present unaware, rose vividly 
 to his imagination, and he longed to give this 
 mother the slight solace, which a few words of 
 his attesting to the unflinching truth and honesty 
 of her boy could afford. Breaking his long si 
 lence, he told his keeper what he desired, and 
 why. Mr. Marston was agreeably astonished 
 when the keeper came to him with Walton's re 
 quest. " 'Tis the best news I've heard for a long 
 time," he said. " The man is not so depraved 
 as I supposed. She will be glad to talk with 
 him." 
 
 Mrs. Mordaunt went immediately and spent 
 ten minutes in hearing what he had to say. 
 
 The robbery they had charged upon William 
 he told Mrs. Mordaunt was " the meanest " they 
 had ever committed, and he had always re 
 gretted it. He was desperate for money to pay 
 his gambling debts and was persuaded by Simp- 
 kins. It was done without forethought. If he 
 had taken time to consider the shamefulness of 
 such a dastardly blow to the lad's good charac 
 ter, he would not have had a hand in it.
 
 278 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 There was, in all this, no comfort to Mrs. 
 Mordaunt. Yet when she saw to what a 
 wretched condition the man had been reduced by 
 his misdeeds, she forgot the bitterness she had 
 cherished towards him and merely said : " If I 
 could find my son, could have him with me once 
 more, all you have told me should be forgotten. 
 To think of him as a friendless outcast, where I 
 can never reach him, is agony almost unendur 
 able." 
 
 " He must have gone to California," said Wei- 
 ton. " Or, perhaps across the Pacific. At one 
 time I made inquiries, and traced him, I think, 
 some distance on the Pacific road. He is such 
 an attractive little fellow he must have made 
 friends. I wish I could know surely where he is. 
 Sometimes I have said to myself " He paused, 
 sighed heavily, then in a choking voice " But 
 it is too late now." 
 
 " It is never too late to do right," said Mrs. 
 Marston. 
 
 Mrs. Mordaunt said she hoped that at some 
 future time she should see full proof of this. He 
 thanked her, and when she left sobbed like a 
 child. 
 
 Two days later came the sheriff with a requi 
 sition from the governor, and the guilty man 
 went with him to Colorado where he was- soon 
 tried and sentenced to a long imprisonment.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 279 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 HAROLD DISCOVERS HIS VOCATION. 
 
 WITH the re-opening of school, matters in the 
 Marston family seemed to regulate themselves. 
 Outdoor work of the farm, as well as indoor, 
 having suffered many interruptions during the 
 past four or five weeks, now went on systematic 
 ally, as usual ; and as a consequence the children, 
 whose exuberance of spirits had been allowed 
 unchecked, became gradually more quiet, more 
 subdued in voice and mien, so readily does the 
 susceptible nature of childhood yield to the de 
 moralizing influence of disorder, and so quickly 
 does it demonstrate the beneficial effects of sys 
 tematized action. 
 
 Fortunate indeed, was this for Harold, who, 
 for weeks after his day at camp was restless and 
 nervous, sensitive to noise and any manner of 
 unquiet movement, and deeply depressed in 
 spirits. As the weeks passed and he had not 
 rgained sufficient strength, nor yet the desire to 
 take again his place in the family, his father con-
 
 280 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 suited Dr. Houghton. Except that he now had 
 no cough, he felt that he was no better than 
 when he came to Pleasant Hill, and both he and 
 Mrs. Marston too were getting discouraged 
 about the boy. 
 
 Dr. Houghton, a man of high health and 
 hearty good nature, was well fitted to visit a de 
 spondent patient. The very tones of his voice, 
 as he entered Harold's chamber, seemed to im 
 part energy to his drooping form and a more 
 hopeful light to his languid eyes. 
 
 " You are not to be cooped up in this way, in 
 doors, in our fine September weather if you ex 
 pect to call me your friend," he said by way of 
 greeting. " If you can't go down yourself, 
 Brown and Darley must take you down and put 
 you into the hammock, and there you must stay 
 all the hours of daylight. Air and sunshine in 
 plenty, you must have. But no books. You've 
 been studying trying to keep up with your 
 class, I suppose; and all that must be stopped." 
 
 Harold replied that he had given up all 
 thought of preparing for college. 
 
 "You have? I shan't allow that, either. 
 Study you may and shall, but not yet. You 
 must get fortified for cold weather that's your 
 duty now." 
 
 When Dr. Houghton returned to Hillsford he 
 went directly to Mr. Marston's office, and told
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 281 
 
 him he found Harold in a very bad way. " He 
 must have something to occupy his mind to 
 take him out of himself. It seems he has given 
 up his studies completely. And that is the worst 
 thing in the world for him," he said. 
 
 " I'll see about that," said Mr. Marston. " My 
 wife has said nothing of the kind. He told 
 young Dinsmore so, I believe. But I didn't sup 
 pose he was really in earnest." 
 
 " Very much in earnest, my dear sir. And we 
 must get that notion out of his head as quickly 
 as possible. Another thing he's in no condi 
 tion to stand the cold weather. It will not do 
 to keep him here at the north through the win 
 ter. You must take him, before the frost comes, 
 to Colorado or Florida Florida is best, and 
 keep him there till spring." 
 
 Mr. Marston said in an agitated voice " Do 
 you really feel his case is serious enough for 
 that? He has been quite nicely for part of the 
 summer, but about a month ago over-taxed his 
 strength one day, and perhaps took a slight 
 cold." 
 
 " It is a serious case, Marston. This winter 
 at the south will probably set him well forward. 
 With favorable weather here, next summer, he 
 may be strong enough to withstand another win 
 ter at home and have no further trouble." 
 
 He paused, as if expecting reply; but Mr.
 
 282 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 Marston remained silent and he went on, " Go 
 to Jacksonville, or to St. Augustine. There you 
 will have steady, temperate weather all winter, 
 thermometer registering from 60 to 80 clear, 
 healthful dry air. Let him have this to antici 
 pate for the next three weeks, and he'll be all 
 ready, amply able to take the journey. Perhaps 
 the easier way will be by steamer to Savannah, 
 stop there a few weeks, and then go by rail to 
 St. Augustine. After Christmas have another 
 change; take the steamer for thirty miles along 
 the coast and then twenty-five miles up the river, 
 St. John's, to Jacksonville. You shall have let 
 ters to my cousin Herbert, in St. Augustine and 
 to my friend, Dr. Hawks, in Jacksonville." 
 
 Mr. Marston, nervously folding, unfolding, 
 and refolding an old letter, his eyes fixed upon 
 the creases thus made, appeared like one in a 
 dream. But he heard every word the doctor said, 
 with a painful sense of what it all meant for 
 himself and the rest of his family, as well as for 
 Harold. 
 
 The door of an inner room was opened hastily. 
 This roused him. He turned and Dr. Houghton 
 also, and met the pleasant glance of Mr. Howard, 
 the junior partner, who being aware of Harold's 
 precarious health, seeing Dr. Houghton's look 
 of deep concern, and Mr. Marston's pallor, asked
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 283 
 
 sympathetically, if the doctor had discovered a 
 new phase of his patient's disease. 
 
 " I am not prepared to say," returned the doc 
 tor. " Symptoms in process of development are 
 often misleading. I am hoping to arrest certain 
 indications before I must pronounce them symp 
 toms of a new phase. And I want you, and your 
 head clerk Morris to grant Marston leave of 
 absence for the winter. I am going to banish 
 Harold to Florida, and his father must be with 
 him." 
 
 " There is no appeal from that sentence, I 
 presume," said Mr. Marston, very soberly. 
 
 Dr. Houghton shook his head, very leisurely 
 consulted his watch and returned it to its fob. 
 
 A stool stood near Mr. Marston. Mr. Howard 
 seated himself and laid his hand on Mr. Mar- 
 ston's shoulder. 
 
 " Morris will do all in his power for the inter 
 ests of the firm, that goes without saying. And 
 I, well, it will be harder for you to be away 
 than for me to stay and manage the business, I 
 am fully persuaded of that. And I rather think 
 a friendship of twenty years can take a little 
 office work without grumbling." 
 
 Marston's eyes, now lifted to Howard's, were 
 suspiciously moist. With a sad smile he silently 
 grasped his partner's hand. 
 
 " Now that's all right, just as I knew it would 
 be," said Dr. Houghton, with a musical little
 
 284 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 laugh. " You ought to go with an easy mind as 
 far as busines is concerned. Get off before the 
 month is out and God go with you, and bring 
 you safely home again with your boy well ad 
 vanced on the road to health." 
 
 "You will look after him till we go?" asked 
 Mr. Marston. 
 
 " Oh, yes. I'll find time for a friendly call oc 
 casionally. But he's not to be alarmed about 
 himself, mind that." 
 
 When Harold was told by his father to get 
 rested and stronger as fast as he could, for he 
 wished to take him in a few weeks to Florida 
 to pass the winter, he asked in great surprise 
 how he could leave his business so long, and 
 wouldn't it cost a great deal. 
 
 So the question was settled and before Dr. 
 Houghton's next call Harold had partially re 
 gained that measure of improvement which he 
 had lost through the fatigue and excitement of 
 those few days of company and camp life. 
 
 While Mrs. Marston busied herself in prepar 
 ing her husband's and son's wardrobes for their 
 winter absence from home, Mrs. Mordaunt did 
 much to relieve her of household cares. 
 
 But Mrs. Mordaunt's thought were more often 
 on her absent son than on Henry or on what she 
 was doing for Mrs. Marston. Walton's remark 
 that William perhaps had crossed the Pacific
 
 He silently grasped his partner's hand.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 285 
 
 often recurred to her mind. He might after all, 
 being innocent, have gone to Calcutta to tell his 
 uncle James of his wrongs in the hope that he 
 could give him employment. There had scarcely 
 been sufficient time for him to have reached Cal 
 cutta before his uncle went to Tokio. And he 
 might not be able to find out where his uncle had 
 gone. She mentioned these thoughts one day to 
 grandmother Marston and was glad to learn that 
 she had come to a similar conclusion, and act 
 ing upon her advice to write to James she wrote 
 her letter that same evening and mailed it. 
 
 Letters from Walter Dinsmore came often to 
 Harold expressing great concern for his health 
 and regret that he did not rally from the re 
 lapse. A brief answer was all that Harold could 
 give him, he had neither the energy nor the 
 strength for more. But he was delighted after 
 three days' silence to receive a letter from Wal 
 ter stating that in accordance with his mother's 
 earnest request and Harold's great desire, he 
 had taken his final and passed through it with 
 honors. 
 
 "Think of that, dear old Hal," he wrote. 
 " From the Hillsford High school honors! 
 Isn't Pa Wolcott proud? You'd better believe. 
 Prouder than Pa Dinsmore and Ma, and your 
 humble servant rolled into one. And now there 
 must be digging, the stoutest kind, I can tell
 
 286 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 you. For honors must be upheld for the fam 
 ily's, and the school's, good name. Oh! if you 
 were only in the same category, old chum, the 
 world would have nothing more glorious for this 
 giddy neophyte." 
 
 " Giddy, indeed," said Mrs. Marston, to whom 
 Harold, who had never yet withheld his letters 
 from his parents' eyes, had shown the blotted 
 scrawl. " His head is fairly turned by his suc 
 cess." 
 
 " No wonder," rejoined Harold. " It was a 
 terrible ordeal for one so self distrustful, so 
 sensitive, and so conscientious as he. I wonder 
 what he will say when he knows I am going to 
 Florida." 
 
 In reply to this news Harold sent one of the 
 briefest of all his notes ; he expressed joy at Wal 
 ter's success in the strongest terms, and then 
 told him that Dr. Houghton had ordered him to 
 Florida; had also prescribed study in moderate 
 doses, to be increased with the gain in health 
 and strength. This brought a telegram of warm 
 est congratulations and hopes. 
 
 Harold was drinking in the sunshine of this 
 telegram no less than that gilding the ailanthus 
 and larch trees, one bright afternoon toward the 
 close of September, when his father, driven home 
 as usual with Tom and Edith, tossed a letter, 
 as Darley drew the horse to a halt. The letter
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 287 
 
 should have gone to his mother, who sat near 
 him, but dropped at his feet. 
 
 " It has fallen to you, Harold," said his father. 
 " You shall have the privilege of reading it first. 
 The mail was just in as I left the office, and I 
 couldn't stop to break the seal, though I know 
 from the address of the envelope who wrote it." 
 
 It was from Mr. James Marston. He had re 
 turned to Tokio, had decided to remain there for 
 the present, as he wished to be near his children. 
 His friend, Dr. Hamilton, was with him. Dr. 
 Hamilton had been making improvements on 
 the machine that was to bring him so much 
 money. After its completion he intended to 
 bring it to the United States. He had once lived 
 in Pippoton and wondered if Mr. Philip Mar- 
 ston's farm, at Pleasant Hill, was near his old 
 home. This machine, was the result of the doc 
 tor's thought and labor for years. While in 
 Pippoton he supposed that he had brought it to 
 perfection; but, upon testing a model, defects 
 were manifested which led to a disaster that 
 well-nigh discouraged him and was the cause of 
 his leaving home. If this machine were finished 
 soon, the doctor wished him to accompany him 
 to America and assist him in getting it patented. 
 So he had decided not to enter into business 
 again, but prepare to bring his children and
 
 288 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 spend the rest of his days somewhere in New 
 England. 
 
 When Harold, after reading the letter, handed 
 it to his father, grandmother Marston remarked, 
 " He says nothing about Maria or her troubles." 
 
 " Sure enough ! I declare I never thought of 
 that," said her son, " till this instant. But I 
 wrote my reply to his last letter in such a hurry, 
 because of the business intelligence that needed 
 prompt decision, that I made no allusion to fam 
 ily matters." 
 
 When Mrs. Mordaunt heard of the letter she 
 asked if it contained anything about William. 
 Mr. Marston apologized for his omission of fam 
 ily affairs, " But, of course," said he, " if James 
 had seen or known anything of him he would 
 have mentioned it." 
 
 " Your letter, Maria," said grandmother, 
 " will induce him to make enquiries. Next 
 month you may expect something definite one 
 way or the other." 
 
 A day or two afterward she received a letter 
 bearing the Tokio postmark, but forwarded from 
 Denver. This, too, was from Mr. James Mar 
 ston, written a few days after the date of his 
 letter to his brother. It was evident that he sup 
 posed Maria was still living in Denver. The let 
 ter stated that a few days previous, a tall, pale 
 lad came to his boarding-place and asked to see
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 289 
 
 him. The lad had arrived that morning from 
 Calcutta, and by advice of the Captain of the 
 vessel in which he came, had called on the mis 
 sionaries who told him where to find his uncle, 
 for the lad was William Mordaunt. He soon 
 told his story. 
 
 " And a pitiful one it was," wrote Mr. James 
 Marston. " I'll not give it here. He is now 
 sitting by me and says you shall know it all 
 sometime. For the present he will stay with me. 
 My advice to you is to go back to Hillsford and 
 make a little home there for yourself and your 
 children. When I return to New England, which 
 I hope I will be before long, he can meet you 
 there." 
 
 Mrs. Mordaunt read the letter twice to be sure 
 that she understood it fully, and then handed it 
 to Mr. Marston. 
 
 " Well, I declare! " as he ran his eye over two 
 or three pages. " William's troubles couldn't 
 have turned out better, Maria. Of course James 
 didn't know you had left Denver. Willie is wel 
 come to a home with us as well as yourself, as 
 long as you choose to stay. Just write imme 
 diately and tell him so. When I answer James' 
 letter to me, I shall say the same." 
 
 Then he read the letter aloud and there was 
 general rejoicing. Even Maud, hearing so much 
 talk about " cousin Willie, poor boy ! " took from
 
 290 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 her pocket the few coppers she had been jingling 
 and asked " aunt Mi'a " to send them in her 
 letter. 
 
 " I'll have him in my room," said Taddie, 
 "you can put another bed there as well as not, 
 mama. And he shall have the first bath every 
 morning." 
 
 " No ! " cried Tom. " He's nearest my age. 
 He must come into my chamber. There's an 
 old commode in the attic; I'll get it down, and a 
 bedstead too; they'll both do for me. He shall 
 use mine." 
 
 While this conversation was going on, Mrs. 
 Marston and Mrs. Mordaunt had gone to tell 
 Mrs. Sinclair and her sister, Maria Mordaunt, 
 about the letter that had been forwarded from 
 Denver, and from which they had learned that 
 Dr. Hamilton intended to return with Mr. James 
 Marston to New England, with which news both 
 were delighted. 
 
 " Why ! it's almost a miracle," said Mrs. Sin 
 clair, " to think of again seeing Richard Hamil 
 ton! I'm sure we shall give him a warm wel 
 come, even if he did squander so much of his 
 father's and our poor Henry's money." 
 
 " I'm sure he meant always to pay Henry ; and 
 he felt so unhappy because he couldn't let us 
 know all his plans that it made him about 
 crazy," Miss Maria managed to say in a weak,
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 291 
 
 tremulous voice; and in spite of her efforts at 
 self control, tears rolled down her cheeks and 
 she left the room. 
 
 " What a noble nature she has," said Mrs. 
 Marston. " Perhaps she will prefer to be alone 
 for a while; so just give her our love and sym 
 pathy and ask her to come and let me tell her of 
 Harold's plans for the winter." 
 
 Mr. Marston was prepared to start the first of 
 next week. He had already given Brown and 
 Darley instructions about harvesting and dis 
 posing of the crops, and orders in regard to 
 their winter work. 
 
 The day for beginning the journey was bright, 
 but a sharp north wind swept the red leaves 
 from the maples and sent a chill that foretold 
 wintry rigors to all who had unwarily exposed 
 themselves to its presence. 
 
 Maud came for so many last kisses that, fin 
 ally, with grandmother Marston's cautions about 
 exposure to dampness, if rain fell while they 
 were on the steamer, both Harold and his father 
 were so confused they were setting off without 
 their hats. 
 
 Ruth was the first to notice this, mentioned 
 it to Edith, who stood behind her, smiling. 
 
 Then they were quickly in the buggy and Dar 
 ley urging Prince down the driveway. Brown 
 had begged leave to take the trunks along. He
 
 292 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 had them in the wagon and Charlie trudged on 
 carefully with the load to the station, his head 
 up, sniffing the bracing autumn breeze, appar 
 ently feeling as proud as Prince for his part of 
 the journey. 
 
 In a few days, however, came a letter from 
 Atlanta, written by both Mr. Marston and Har 
 old. They had yielded to a pressing invitation 
 from a travelling companion, Mr. Fred Lam 
 bert, and were now at the Lambert mansion, a 
 fine old-style Southern homestead. Harold had 
 enjoyed St. Augustine, but Atlanta seemed 
 much more desirable for residence. The Lam 
 berts were very hospitable, were overwhelming 
 them with kind attentions. And Harold seemed 
 to have gained his full health, could walk two 
 or three miles without fatigue, had " an enor 
 mous appetite," and " the digestion of an os 
 trich." " Except fearing the effect of March 
 winds in New England," Mr. Marston wrote, 
 " he would come home next month ; but, after 
 gaining so much, we will run no risk, so don't 
 look for us till May." 
 
 Harold wrote that he had become much inter 
 ested in the culture of cotton. Mr. Fred Lam 
 bert had taken him and his father to three cot 
 ton plantations, one of which he owned. " You 
 knew, mother," he added at the close of the 
 letter, " how much I enjoy watching plant life.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 293 
 
 I have indulged that taste largely, here. The 
 orange groves, the cotton plantations, and the 
 sugar-cane, as well as the fig trees, and all the 
 other trees here, have been a great delight. The 
 roses, too, and all the flowers. But the cotton 
 plant is the greatest wonder, and has my highest 
 admiration. Just think, mother dear, what a 
 blessing that plant is to the human race ! When 
 in thought I trace it through all its changes, and 
 the marvellous beauty, grandeur, to which it 
 can be made to attain, rises before me in imag 
 ination, I am ready to bow down and worship it, 
 and thank God for it, rather as Linnaeus did 
 for the daisy. Oh ! it seems to me that next to 
 wheat, it is the best of earthly gifts, and that a 
 cotton planter is a man to be envied, because of 
 the benefits he is instrumental in dispensing to 
 the world. I like the rice plant, but haven't been 
 able to become much acquainted with it, though 
 it is such an excellent article for food, and for 
 management in other important ways. But the 
 damp swamps where it must be grown, I found, 
 are unfavorable for health, and I haven't dared 
 to investigate its habits. Perhaps when I get 
 thoroughly well, in sturdy health, I may take up 
 that plant for study." 
 
 Mrs. Marston took the letter to grandmother, 
 who sighed as she finished it. " That boy has 
 discovered his vocation. You must make up
 
 294 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 your mind, Mary, to let him follow it. He 
 doesn't want a college education, doesn't need 
 it, And he'll do more good in taking up the cul 
 ture of cotton there, and helping and encourag 
 ing the poor laborers he would employ in that 
 work, than any professors or preachers in New 
 England can begin to do in what they consider 
 their calling. Yes; he has certainly been called 
 to do this work of raising those poor wretches 
 who have fallen, through ignorance and neglect, 
 into all the degradation of which our race is 
 capable." 
 
 Mrs. Marston shook her head. " It certainly 
 looks like it, but I don't want to think of it, 
 we'll wait till they come home, before I give it 
 the thought it requires."
 
 .THE CLOSED BALCONY. 295 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 WILLIE'S CONFESSION. 
 
 THROUGHOUT the whole winter, Mr. Philip 
 Marston and his eldest son, Harold, watched 
 with absorbing interest all newspaper accounts 
 of the weather at the North, in the expectation 
 of leaving Atlanta early. Though the first part 
 of the season had been mild, after Christmas it 
 was severe, and not till the middle of April was 
 the ground clear of snow. It was May before 
 they left Atlanta. They made the journey home 
 by rail, stopping a few days at Washington to 
 go over the Government buildings, and to at 
 tend the deliberations of Congress. 
 
 They reached Pleasant Hill two days before 
 the time they had set for their arrival. But 
 they were none the less welcome, though their 
 greeting was much more quiet, on that account, 
 than the children intended it to be. Taddie was 
 the first to spy the railroad carriage from Hills- 
 ford coming up the driveway, and managed to
 
 296 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 hunt up Roland's banner of Welcome, which had 
 done service on a previous occasion ; and waved 
 it joyfully at the door till they came up the 
 veranda steps. 
 
 Mrs. Marston was astonished to see how stout 
 and well her husband and Harold were. When 
 the family were all together, there seemed to be 
 no end to the questions passed to and fro among 
 them, so curious were the stay-at-homes to know 
 all that the travellers had seen and done; and 
 they, in their turn, eager to hear what had been 
 going on in their absence. 
 
 Taddie's alligator, but it was a stuffed one, 
 was forth-coming before Harold had been at 
 home an hour. Instead of the parrot that Polly 
 had wished for, she had a lovely pink feather 
 fan, " enough sight better than a green parrot," 
 Taddie said, who was quite contented with the 
 stuffed alligator. Roland had the live mocking 
 bird, which grandmother thought present enough 
 for the whole family. Robert had a live turtle, 
 tame enough to follow when he whistled, " an 
 ugly, clumsy thing," Polly called it, but Bert 
 found it very interesting. Every member of the 
 household, Susan and Lottie as well as Barley 
 and Brown, had something. Brown said his 
 orange-wood cane made him a gentleman, and 
 went swaggering home with it. 
 
 Late in the evening, when the children were
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 297 
 
 in bed (Tom and Edith were not considered 
 children) Mr. Marston asked his wife what she 
 should say to be told he had bought a cotton 
 plantation in Georgia. 
 
 " It is no more than I expected after Harold's 
 and your last letter," she replied. 
 
 " What do you think of it? Shall we go there 
 to live?" 
 
 " That is for you to decide. You left with me 
 the decision about leaving Hillsford for Pleasant 
 Hill, so I return you the privilege." 
 
 " That's fair," he rejoined. " Well, we, with 
 grandmother and the children, will remain here 
 a while longer, I think, perhaps always. Harold 
 will probably return there in the autumn, have 
 an eye, part of the year to my possessions there ; 
 and, no doubt, find the work which Dr. Hough- 
 ton prophesied he had before him to do." 
 
 Harold looked up with a bright smile. We 
 shall all be there together, well and happy, some 
 day, I think," he said. 
 
 Mr. Marston hadn't been home a week when a 
 letter arrived from his brother James, saying 
 he might expect to see him, and his children, and 
 William Mordaunt, and perhaps Dr. Hamilton 
 with them, very soon. On the twenty-fifth of 
 May they arrived in Boston and immediately 
 took a train for Hillsford, and then a hack for 
 Pleasant Hill. A jolly group they were; Mr.
 
 298 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 James Marston 's two boys, Melvin and Lewis, 
 twelve and fourteen years old, William Mor- 
 daunt, nineteen, full of life and high spirits; 
 Mr. James Marston, a wide awake man of forty, 
 and Dr. Hamilton about the same age, somewhat 
 sedate, yet evidently ready to make himself 
 agreeable. 
 
 " A houseful of us," said Mr. Philip Marston, 
 when he returned from his business one after 
 noon to find the new arrivals on the veranda, or 
 on the grass beneath it, chatting and laughing 
 merrily. " I hope we can make you all com 
 fortable," and his laugh was soon the loudest 
 among them. 
 
 " In the gymnasium," said Bert, " there's 
 plenty of room for a big shakedown, or for a Jim 
 Crow dance." 
 
 " I must have a look at that gymnasium," said 
 Mr. James Marston. " Dr. Hamilton is anxious 
 to see how the old balcony has become such a 
 fine looking hall ; he should have the first claim 
 to its privileges, too," and without more ado all 
 the masculines rushed for the entrance, and 
 spent over an hour in examining the room and 
 testing its advantages for athletics. 
 
 Mr. Philip Marston was surprised to find Dr. 
 Hamilton such an agreeable gentleman, and so 
 interesting in conversation. He was so easy in 
 his manners that the ladies were loud in his
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 299 
 
 praise, grandmother being especially pleased by 
 his deference to her. Mrs. Mordaunt was much 
 affected at first meeting William, who was in 
 clined to be shy and distant, though Tom was 
 very cordial, and the other boys full of good- 
 natured talk with all the cousins. 
 
 All the family were impatient to hear what 
 William Mordaunt had to say about his disap 
 pearance, and in the evening he told them where 
 he had been and what had befallen him. 
 
 His first thought on leaving Mr. Doakson's 
 store was to escape arrest, knowing that in Den 
 ver summary measures, in case of a robbery were 
 quickly in force. Fortunately he had received 
 pay for a week's services that very morning. So 
 he had means to buy a ticket to San Francisco 
 and soon decided to go there. He reached that 
 city without trouble, but was in constant fear 
 of detection. Being hungry, and without money, 
 he obtained kitchen-work in a restaurant, and 
 did all sorts of mean drudgery. A month of this 
 dreary life brought illness. He was discharged, 
 weak and penniless. At this crisis he recollected 
 the letters his mother had occasionally received 
 from his uncle James. Perhaps he would be 
 friend him. A steamer for Calcutta lay at the 
 wharf. He begged to be allowed to work his 
 passage, and was not refused. Arriving in Cal 
 cutta he was at a loss to know how to find his
 
 300 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 uncle and was in a more deplorable condition 
 than ever, for in this strange city, of so many 
 different nationalities and languages, he could 
 not make his wants understood. Day after day 
 he wandered about, sometimes earning a meal 
 by running with a message for the grandees of 
 the higher caste; as often going supperless to 
 bed, among bales and boxes on the wharves, and, 
 perhaps, in the morning, earning a few coppers 
 by helping to load or unload the vessels in port. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! " said Polly, who had listened with 
 a flushed face and beaming eyes, " didn't you 
 cry every night?" 
 
 " I guess you asked our Heavenly Father to 
 show you the way to uncle James, didn't you, 
 Willie? " asked Tad. 
 
 Willie nodded assent and resumed his story: 
 " One day while helping to unload a vessel, I 
 heard the supercargo" 
 
 " Oh, what's that? " said Tad. 
 
 " >Sh, 'sh ! " whispered Polly, " we'll find out 
 in definitions to-morrow." 
 
 " I heard the supercargo," repeated Willie, 
 " when giving orders for marking boxes, call my 
 uncle's name, coupled with Tokio. I followed 
 those boxes as they were taken on board, and 
 begged to be sent with them. At first the man 
 was unwilling. But after consultation with 
 other officers of the ship, consented. A little
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 301 
 
 later I told the captain my story and he said 
 I should have my mess with the sailors. So 
 I wasn't hungry again; and he was very kind 
 to me all the voyage, and when we arrived, ad 
 vised me to go to the missionary's house. There 
 I was told where my uncle James lived." 
 
 Polly heaved a deep sigh of relief when he 
 ceased speaking, which was echoed by several 
 others in the room. 
 
 " A hard experience, my boy," said Mr. Philip 
 Marston. " I hope the rest of your life will be 
 prosperous and happy. I shall be glad, and so 
 shall we all be glad, to do what lies in our 
 power to make it so." 
 
 Dr. Hamilton was desirous of seeing the arti 
 cles that had been taken from the closed bal 
 cony. Mr. Philip Marston had long ago ordered 
 Darley to put them in an empty room in the 
 carriage-house. Early the next morning, Mr. 
 James Marston and Dr. Hamilton went with his 
 brother Philip and spent some time looking over 
 the broken wires, tubes, and discs. And Mr. 
 Philip Marston called his brother's attention 
 particularly to the curious wheel that Mr. Good 
 win had thought might have been intended to 
 generate electricity, and to apply it as a motive 
 power to some special industry. 
 
 "You and Mr. Goodwin are right," returned 
 the doctor.
 
 302 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " One of the neighbors," said Mr. Marston, 
 called it the wheel of flame." 
 
 " That was one of the names I had for it," re 
 plied Dr. Hamilton, giving the wheel a twirl 
 that set its spokes glittering in the sunshine. 
 " I had a splendid scheme, 'twould have been a 
 magnificent thing if I could have perfected, em 
 bodied, fully, I mean, my idea. But after an 
 immense amount of toil and money, too, spent 
 upon it, I found it was a failure. I don't mind 
 telling you this now, because my friend here, 
 your brother, will bear me out in saying that I 
 have succeeded at last in inventing something 
 that is as near perfection as man's work can be. 
 Something, too, of much greater use, real use, 
 than this would have been." 
 
 " I see a few things here," said Mr. James 
 Marston, a few things in the shape of the tubes 
 that resemble some portions of your recent in 
 vention." 
 
 " O yes ! The principle is at bottom the same. 
 And though I have applied that principle to a 
 more homely use, that of stone cutting, I am 
 proud of my invention." 
 
 " And well he may be, well he may be," broke 
 in Mr. James Marston, with a significant cant of 
 his head. " It is a giant in power, cuts the solid- 
 est granite like wax, and its value is inesti 
 mable."
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 303 
 
 " Now that the subject of good roads and road- 
 building is receiving careful attention, I think 
 you may certainly be considered a public bene 
 factor," said Mr. Philip Marston. 
 
 " So I've told him," rejoined his brother. 
 " Good roads you know, according to what polit 
 ical economists say, are the first step toward 
 higher civilization; and crushed stone is a sine 
 qua non in the building of good roads." 
 
 A moment of impressive silence followed while 
 Dr. Hamilton set aside the wheel saying as he 
 did so, "When after the accident to this con 
 trivance, I was so mortified by its failure, and 
 irritated by the ridicule that I received in con 
 sequence, and so distressed by misrepresentations 
 and unjust accusations, that I fled the country, I 
 little thought that I should be satisfied to be 
 the inventor of a stone crusher." 
 
 He laughed good-humoredly, then went on, 
 " But I am, and more than satisfied. I think I 
 have good reason to expect large returns from 
 the patent." 
 
 It was soon understood that Dr. Hamilton was 
 waiting the arrival of a gentleman from Pennsyl 
 vania who had offered him a large sum for 
 his invention, and that after the business had 
 been settled, the doctor would be in very pros 
 perous circumstances. Mr. James Marston had 
 been made a confidant, and would assist him
 
 304 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 in the legal settlement of his affairs. Debts that 
 had caused him great anxiety would be liq 
 uidated as soon as possible; then he would 
 engage in business, and spend the remainder of 
 his days in Pippoton. 
 
 As he would be likely to have large correspon 
 dence and much difficult business to transact 
 when the gentleman in Pennsylvania was ready 
 to take the patent, it seemed best for him to 
 make the hotel on the Valley road, his head 
 quarters'. He had corresponded, since coming 
 to Pleasant Hill, with Dr. Houghton, in order 
 to know the condition of his father's estate, of 
 which Dr. Houghton was made agent three years 
 previous. To him also he wrote concerning his 
 sister, and was glad to know that she would like 
 to make a home for him in Pippoton. 
 
 If all his plans' could be carried out, he would 
 retrieve the good name of his parents, and Pippo 
 ton people should see that he would make the 
 prosperity of the village his chief aim. He did 
 not wish to become rich, was willing to spend a 
 great deal to raise the standard of business and 
 of education here, where his childhood was 
 spent. He expressed gratitude for Mr. James 
 Marston's friendship and for the hospitality of 
 Mr. Philip Marston and his family, hoped to find 
 much happiness in spending the rest of his 
 life among them, and that they would assist him
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 305 
 
 in his efforts to regain the good will of the vil 
 lagers; and then engaged rooms at the Good 
 rich hotel, near the new chapel on the Valley 
 road.
 
 306 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 DR. HAMILTON PAYS ALL DEMANDS. 
 
 DR. HAMILTON, though busy with his corres 
 pondence the larger part of every day, found 
 time to call upon the family at Pleasant Hill. 
 These interviews were mutually enjoyed, for the 
 doctor was interested in the bright, merry chil 
 dren and young people, with their lively chat 
 about passing events and their eager question 
 ings, and observations, not only upon what they 
 knew personally, but upon matters that con 
 cerned his pasty and which seemed now to be set 
 forth in their true light. The elders of the Mars- 
 ton family began to feel that he was not grant 
 ing them the favor that they had expected from 
 his acquaintance, when one evening at twilight 
 Mrs. Sinclair came hurriedly to the door and 
 asked if Thomas would kindly run down to Dr. 
 Mason's and request him to call, her sister Maria 
 seemed quite ill. 
 
 Dr. Hamilton recognized her instantly, and 
 expressing much regret at her sister's illness,
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 307 
 
 offered to go himself for the physician. Thomas 
 however, by the time she had finished speaking 
 had snatched his hat and started down the road 
 halfway to the doctor's office, and Mrs. Sin 
 clair, followed by Mrs. Marston, hastened home. 
 
 Mrs. Sinclair managed to whisper before they 
 gained her gate, that Maria had been far from 
 well for the week past, but would be offended if 
 she knew that a doctor had been called, as she 
 considered herself in good health and this was 
 only a slight cold. Still Mrs. Sinclair felt it 
 would be wise to have his advice, and she hoped 
 Dr. Mason would come as for a neighborly call, 
 and wished Mrs. Marston to make no allusion 
 to it; especially urging her not to mention that 
 Dr. Hamilton was at Pleasant Hill. Taddie and 
 his three cousins from Japan had dropped in two 
 or three times and told them of their nice talks 
 with Dr. Hamilton, at which Maria had been so 
 affected she hoped he wouldn't remain long in 
 Pippoton. 
 
 " But he will," rejoined Mrs. Marston. " He 
 has come to make Pippoton his home, is plan 
 ning to build a house precisely like the old man 
 sion, on the slope below the Centre, has already 
 begun negotiations for buying that lot." 
 
 " Then of course Maria will meet him, and be 
 fore long, too. I dread the effect upon her 
 nerves," returned Mrs. Sinclair.
 
 308 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 Mrs. Marston made only a short call, did not 
 see Miss Mordaunt, but waited in the parlor un 
 til Dr. Mason had made his visit. He said Maria 
 was suffering more from nervous agitation than 
 any settled disease. The nervous affection was 
 quite serious, and she must be kept very quiet; 
 he would call again in the morning and decide 
 then on what course to take. 
 
 Early the next morning, Dr. Hamilton called 
 at the Mordaunt home. It was evident that the 
 illness of Miss Maria was of serious import to 
 him. Mrs. Sinclair met him on his entrance very 
 cordially, and seemed greatly pleased at the in 
 terest he manifested. He asked many questions 
 in regard to the life the sisters had led since 
 he left Pleasant Hill. " Seven years, is it? " he 
 said, after Mrs. Sinclair had implied by her man 
 ner that the conversation was getting wearisome, 
 " I have kept no account of the time, but I have 
 felt so unhappy at the thought of my indiscreet 
 management of my earlier life, especially at my 
 rash departure from my friends here at Pleasant 
 Hill, and have been so continually occupied in 
 devising means and making plans for retrieving 
 the unfortunate past, that I have not noticed 
 how the years have flown." 
 
 He did not ask to see Miss Mordaunt, but 
 seemed very sad at Dr. Mason's fears of a seri 
 ous turn to this sudden illness, and begged, that
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 309 
 
 he might come again later in the day and hear 
 the result of the doctor's more particular diag 
 nosis. Leaving Mrs. Sinclair anxious and sad, 
 he went to the Marstons, making more inquiries 
 there of the circumstances of Miss Mordaunt 
 and her sister. In the course of conversation 
 with grandmother Marston and Mrs. Mordaunt, 
 Dr. Hamilton said that he expected soon a re 
 mittance from Pennsylvania which would enable 
 him to liquidate all debts; assured Mrs. Mor 
 daunt of his strong interest in William's wel 
 fare, and requested her to make arrangements 
 to receive the amount due her husband's estate, 
 both principal and interest 
 
 At his second call on Mrs. Sinclair, he received 
 no farther information in regard to Miss Maria's 
 illness. The doctor had made his visit, but could 
 not give much encouragement, could speak no 
 more favorably of the patient, and he left feel 
 ing very sad and depressed, but set himself reso 
 lutely at work with his accumulated corre 
 spondence till late in the day, then went with Mr. 
 James Marston to meet the proprietors of the 
 Goodrich Mill, with the settled purpose of effect 
 ing its purchase and starting its business anew. 
 He gave this friend full authority to conduct 
 the negotiations, saying that he felt unable, both 
 physically and mentally, to manage the matter, 
 could do nothing till he heard from parties in
 
 310 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 Pennsylvania in regard to his patent, and finally 
 said he feared he was breaking in health. 
 
 " Nonsense! " returned Mr. James (as he was 
 now frequently called in distinction from his 
 brother Philip) "you are tired, perhaps, and 
 have allowed something to upset your accus 
 tomed equanimity, in your renewal of old ac 
 quaintances here. Look at Harold, see how well 
 he looks, and how placidly he takes the rush and 
 stir of home-coming and all its concomitants; 
 yet, from what he tells me, he could only crawl 
 around the fields here last year at this time. I 
 tell you, man, that all you want is to turn back 
 just a few leaves of your experience, and take 
 up the story of your life once more." 
 
 " That is just what I would like to do, and to 
 do it immediately," came the doleful response 
 " one leaf, especially, that I let slip from my 
 grasp, in weak self-ignorance." 
 
 " Well, then, go ahead, without distrust, man 
 age things the best way you can, now, and start 
 on anew," said Mr. James. " That's what I've 
 told Maria's Willie; and the young fellow is 
 showing an unknown sight of pluck and perse- 
 verence, has just found a situation at the Iron 
 Works. I haven't let him know how proud I am 
 of this proof of his ability. But he shan't moil 
 and toil there a great while. As soon as we get 
 the Goodrich mills started, I'll have him there
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 311 
 
 as agent. I tell you that boy is going to make 
 his mark in the world, and the hardship and 
 poverty he's endured, has brought out the ster 
 ling gold of his nature." 
 
 " I believe I ought to feel thankful to you, 
 James, for this scolding," returned Dr. Hamil 
 ton, with an attempt at a laugh that ended in 
 a sigh; but I must confess that I do not. For 
 the future, however, I'll keep my gloomy fore 
 bodings to myself." 
 
 " How about the new house on that slope at 
 the Centre? " asked his companion. " Have you 
 engaged the carpenters? Philip and his family 
 have a friend, a perfect paragon of a carpenter, 
 to hear his men tell all his wonderful qualities." 
 
 " Haven't bought the lot yet and cannot till I 
 have the money for it in hand." 
 
 "You'd better engage him, I think; his ser 
 vices are in such demand. Goodwin, his name 
 is; Hillford claims him, but the Marstons are 
 such friends of his that if you go with merely the 
 introduction of the Marston youngsters, he'll be 
 proud to do you service. By the way, Dr. Ham 
 ilton, do you begin to realize what the coming 
 to Pleasant Hill of my brother Philip and his 
 family has done for the village? Nearly every 
 person I meet has something pleasant to say of 
 him and his family. And that gymnasium, in
 
 312 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 what was once the closed balcony, is building 
 for the place honor and renown, wherever it is 
 mentioned, and crowding out the remembrance 
 of scorn and ridicule of which it was once the 
 innocent cause." 
 
 Day after day, Dr. Hamilton's calls had, for 
 over a week, no favorable returns in regard to 
 Miss Maria's condition; Mrs. Sinclair, though 
 not so despondent as at first, still had little 
 hope of ultimate recovery, the nerves seemed so 
 uncontrollable. But, at last, one day, she told 
 him that her sister had asked if he were still in 
 Pippoton, and if he had been at Pleasant Hill. 
 This led him to say that when she became strong 
 enough he wished to speak with her. So Mrs. 
 Sinclair ventured to mention that Maria had 
 always firmly believed in him and insisted that 
 he would some time return. And she noted the 
 flush and the smile which overspread his features 
 at these words. With no little trepidation in 
 both manner and words, he then confided to her 
 a sorrowful account of the greatest disappoint 
 ment of his life. His father's anger at what he 
 considered a waste of money in gratifying his 
 ambition, he averred was more easy to bear, than 
 the realization that this disappointment might 
 have been prevented by timely seizure of op 
 portunities then near his grasp. 
 
 Then he continued that his ambition, in the
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 313 
 
 one particular channel that at that time domi 
 nated his life, had at last succeeded. As the re 
 sult of that success he was to-day expecting to 
 remove the blot which had for so many years 
 rested on his name. A letter from Mr. David 
 Ingersoll, a wealthy manufacturer of Philadel 
 phia, reached him this morning. The letter con 
 tained a draft of large amount, in payment for 
 a machine of his invention recently patented. 
 This money he should use immediately in pay 
 ing all debts. 
 
 In corresponding with his sister, now living 
 in Oakland, California, he found that she had 
 changed her mind about coming east and making 
 a home for him with herself. She had recently 
 married, would remain in Oakland. " As heir 
 to her father's property," he said, " she was the 
 first creditor to be paid, he had already sent 
 the executor of his father's estate a note in full 
 payment of all his indebtedness." 
 
 " To-morrow," he continued, " I shall pay the 
 widow of your brother, Henry Mordaunt, not 
 only her individual claim upon his estate, but 
 that of her three children in her trust, as guar 
 dian. Henry was very kind, all too kind, to lend 
 me so much assistance. This debt has always 
 been a great mortification and a great anxiety; 
 my inability to meet Henry's demands for it, a 
 source of much sorrow. I have feared that my
 
 314 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 failure to pay him at the time of the terrible 
 catastrophe that wrecked my aims and my hopes, 
 caused Henry's decision to try his fortune in a 
 Colorado ranch where he met his tragic death; 
 and overwhelmed his wife and children in pov 
 erty and despair. Now, this, as all other claims, 
 shall be fully satisfied. Then, as far as money 
 matters are concerned, I trust I shall feel easy, 
 for after these payments I shall still have ample 
 means left for a life of comfort. 
 
 This confidential talk relieved Dr. Hamilton's 
 mind, and gave him courage to proceed with 
 plans for his partnership with Mr. James Mar- 
 ston in continuing the manufacture of cotton- 
 cloth in the Goodrich Mills.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 315 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 A BLUNDER AND ITS CORRECTION. 
 
 Miss MARIA MORDAUNT'S recovery was very 
 slow. Yet hope never failed her sister, Mrs. 
 Sinclair, for she saw that health was surely re 
 turning, and waited. 
 
 After weeks of anxiety Dr. Hamilton ventured 
 to accost Dr. Mason as he was leaving the house 
 one day, and inquired so closely as to the pa 
 tient's condition, and as to the probable time of 
 her recovery that the doctor was exasperated 
 and said to Mrs. Sinclair at his next call, " How 
 can I tell when she will be free of those nervous 
 tremors? Or, when she will be well enough to 
 receive callers? Or, to take her place in society? 
 Nature has her laws, her rules, we can only assist 
 her in enforcing them." 
 
 But at last one day, Mrs. Sinclair said, (be 
 fore Dr. Hamilton could make his first enquiry), 
 " Maria has asked to see you, she hopes to feel 
 well enough at noon, if you can come then, to be 
 below stairs."
 
 316 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " Oh ! but I'll come up," he said gleefully. 
 " She needn't waste her strength coming over 
 the stairs." 
 
 " No, no. She is quite set, says she must have 
 changed a great deal, all these seven years 1 , in 
 her looks; and wouldn't have you see her first 
 anywhere but in the parlor." 
 
 " Why ! what a strange idea. You haven't 
 changed a particle in your looks, Mrs. Sinclair, 
 and I can't think she has, perhaps this sickness 
 may have stolen some of the fresh color she used 
 to have I shouldn't notice that, however. Tell 
 her I'll be sure to come at twelve o'clock." 
 
 At the stroke of twelve, Richard Hamilton 
 started on the much dreaded, yet most desired 
 errand of his life. The sun was hot and he him 
 self in a fever-heat of anxiety, but before he 
 reached the Mordaunt homestead, he found him 
 self trembling with a chill of apprehension, and 
 he cast about for some thought of cheer to allay 
 this excitement. 
 
 It was fortunate for him that a neighbor had 
 required some favor of Mrs. Sinclair in her 
 kitchen, and so his knock at the front door was 
 not answered. An open window of the parlor 
 sent him a welcome in a voice whose tones he 
 had never forgotten, Miss Maria's, he was sure; 
 so he entered confidently, and with just his old 
 assurance exchanged ordinary greetings with
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 317 
 
 her; grasped frankly her extended hand, took a 
 chair at her side, and found himself chatting 
 immediately with her on ordinary subjects with 
 the freedom of the days so long ago. In amaze 
 ment at the unexpected calm that had followed 
 his chill of fear, he could hardly believe that he 
 was not in a dream, and that Maria and he were 
 living over the past. 
 
 Mrs. Sinclair soon entered the parlor. She 
 was greatly surprised to see her sister's calm as 
 pect and glowing face, that told the pleasure 
 Dr. Hamilton's conversation was affording her. 
 There was much to be recalled by both sisters 
 that seemed of importance to their visitor, and 
 over an hour passed rapidly in mutual enjoy 
 ment of those memories. Then came discussion 
 of the rumor that he was to build a fine, large 
 house precisely like the Pleasant Hill mansion, 
 but where the sisters hadn't heard. He told 
 them of a small eminence not far from the new 
 chapel on the Valley road, for which he had be 
 gun to negotiate. They both approved the loca 
 tion, Mrs. Sinclair saying it was just what she 
 and Maria had ofteen said ought to be improved. 
 " But ' precisely like ' doesn't mean with a bal 
 cony all around it, the same as your father's, 
 does it?" said Mrs. Sinclair. 
 
 " Yes. Oh, yes ! " he hastily returned. " I 
 mean to have it in every particular the same.
 
 318 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 With the improvement, I ought to say, that Mr. 
 Marston has introduced the gymnasium." 
 
 " So large as that? " asked Miss Maria. 
 " And your sister not coming to live there with 
 you?" 
 
 " Occasionally, she will come, I hope," he re 
 plied. 
 
 " You, alone, in such a large house ! " ex 
 claimed Mrs 1 . Sinclair. Why ! you ought to have 
 a companion there, surely." 
 
 " I hope," he stammered, " I trust, yes, let me 
 say I trust I shall, I shall have a companion 
 when the house is ready to be occupied." As he 
 spoke he threw a meaning glance of his fine, 
 gray eyes directly in to Miss Maria's beautiful 
 blue eyes, now swimming in tears. 
 
 For a moment neither spoke; the silence was 
 getting oppressive. Mrs. Sinclair broke it by 
 asking if the date was fixed for starting again 
 the Goodrich Mill, of which he had previously 
 told her. 
 
 " Mr. James Marston is to set that date," he 
 returned; and then apologized for remaining so 
 long, explaining that he had an engagement else 
 where. 
 
 " But you will come again? " said Miss Maria. 
 
 " O, certainly, if you wish," he returned, 
 " only not every day, as I have lately," and he 
 left them quietly.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 319 
 
 " Why did he say that, I wonder? " said Mrs. 
 Sinclair. 
 
 " Well," returned Miss Maria in a grave, deep 
 voice showing the restraint she was keeping on 
 her feelings, " I suppose my illness has taken up 
 too much of his time coming as he has every 
 day, so long just to ask how I do. Just out of 
 politeness (you know he was always careful to 
 show politeness) not because of any special re 
 gard. 
 
 " More than that/' said Mrs. Sinclair. Seeing 
 the tearful gaze of Maria fixed on his figure 
 passing down the road, she added, " Come you 
 are getting too tired. We'll both go up stairs 
 and rest awhile." 
 
 When Dr. Hamilton reached his office he 
 found a telegram from David Ingersoll awaiting 
 his reply. The machine had arrived, but no one 
 in Philadelphia knew how to put it together and 
 set in operation; explicit directions must be 
 immediately sent by telegraph, or he himself 
 come on as soon as possible and attend to it. 
 There was no time for deliberation. He sent a 
 return message that he would take the midnight 
 train and be in Philadelphia the next day. Then 
 he hurried to the Marstons told them of this 
 sudden change in his arrangements requested 
 Mr. James Marston to go on with matters at the 
 Goodrich Mill irrespective of any of his sugges-
 
 320 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 tions. He also gave him authority to settle his 
 purchase of the house lot, saying he would send 
 further instructions by mail, and went back to 
 his office. 
 
 After doing this he tried to compose himself. 
 He had one quiet hour of slumber, then some 
 what refreshed he started for Philadelphia. 
 He was received there cordially, and at once 
 driven to the factory, where he saw his machine 
 in its disjointed state yet uninjured and 
 immediately set the workmen to putting 
 in proper condition for use. But he found that 
 they needed instruction and assistance that he 
 only could impart, and the probability of 
 months spent in teaching and helping them was 
 not a pleasant prospect. Still he did not falter; 
 but made arrangements for remaining there at 
 work ; pride in the worth of his patent making 
 him brave to bear whatever hardship the work 
 might exact. 
 
 He retired after the day's work wearied both 
 in body and brain. But before going to bed he 
 wrote the letter to Miss Maria that he had de 
 cided upon the previous evening and then mailed 
 it, full of hope and calm trustfulness. He slept 
 well, happy in the consciousness of good inten 
 tions, and rose in the morning full of courage 
 for the day's duties. And thus for two days 
 life passed smoothly, though harshly and wear-
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 321 
 
 ily. On the third day came the answer to his 
 letter. He read it eagerly, devoured it with his 
 eyes, for it was all, and more than he expected. 
 " Yes," she said in answer to his question ; " no 
 greater happiness could I have than to devote my 
 life to you. And I am ready at any time to come 
 and share the toilsome life you are now leading. 
 I am well t better, because happier than ever in 
 my life." 
 
 He was overjoyed could scarcely command 
 his pen to write, but scrawled a few lines asking 
 her to set the date for him to come, that they 
 might in quiet fashion take their marriage vows', 
 and return to spend a few months in Philadel 
 phia. This letter also was duly sent, and two 
 days more brought a reply, setting the date of 
 marriage a week later. 
 
 But in this reply he found some expressions 
 that he failed to understand. One was that she 
 thought she had better have him than Mr. Mars- 
 ton the guardian of her children. He pondered 
 and puzzled over this sentence nearly five min 
 utes before he felt willing to accept the sure con 
 clusion that the writer was Mrs. Maria Mor- 
 daunt! Astounded by the import of these 
 words, he walked the floor in agony. How could 
 such a blunder have been made? for blunder it 
 surely was ; and he must take steps to rectify it, 
 if possible. But would she, having made prep-
 
 322 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 arations for a wedding, grant him release from 
 obligation? 
 
 The only course now to take was to return im 
 mediately to Pippoton, state the matter plainly 
 to his Maria, Miss Maria Mordaunt, and let her 
 decide. 
 
 Giving urgent business at Pleasant Hill as 
 excuse to Mr. Ingersoll, in a hastily penned 
 note, he took the earliest train north, arriving 
 at Pippoton the afternoon of the following day. 
 Stopping for no refreshment, he went directly 
 with the two replies he had received to his letters 
 to Mrs. Sinclair, a man haggard from worry 
 and loss of sleep. 
 
 She did not recognize him as he came to the 
 door; but her sister, Miss Maria, saw him ap 
 proaching, and frightened by his woe-begone ap 
 pearance, rushed down stairs and extended her 
 arms. Fainting and nearly frantic, he fell on her 
 shoulder, sobbing fearfully. 
 
 A few minutes later he regained command of 
 himself, gave a hurried account of the distress 
 ing affair, and asked their advice, Miss Maria 
 remaining stolidly calm the while, Mrs. Sinclair 
 vehement in reproaches of "somebody" she 
 didn't (for she couldn't) name, who made such 
 a shameful blunder." 
 
 "It must have been myself," he replied. " I 
 was too tired to have attempted to write and
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 323 
 
 mail such a letter. Yes, yes ; the fault must have 
 been in the address. I must get the envelopes, 
 and and " 
 
 He looked pleadingly at Miss Maria, unable 
 to say what suddenly rose to mind. 
 
 " She must decide," said Miss Maria, with 
 quiet dignity. 
 
 " Get the envelopes instantly," was Mrs. Sin 
 clair's stern command. 
 
 He obeyed with the docility of a conquered 
 child, and was passing up the entrance to the 
 Marston mansion before five minutes had 
 elapsed, and just as Darley drove up with the 
 buggy in which sat Mr. Philip Marston return 
 ing from town. 
 
 " How's this? " cried Mr. Marston. " Thought 
 you'd gone to Philadelphia." 
 
 Mrs. Maria Mordaunt, needlework in hand, 
 sat on the veranda steps. She threw the needle 
 work aside, beaming with delight, ran to meet 
 Dr. Hamilton. His pale, sorrowful face gave 
 her a chill as he said feebly " It's all a mis 
 take, don't welcome me. I am distressed 
 more for you than for myself." 
 
 "Why! what's up?" asked Philip Marston. 
 " You look like a ghost, Richard." 
 
 " I must see those envelopes," he rejoined, in 
 a tremulous voice. Mrs. Mordaunt darted, as if 
 distraught, up the steps and into the house. Re-
 
 324 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 appearing before the two gentlemen had noticed 
 her absence, she thrust the envelopes, without a 
 word, into Dr. Hamilton's hand. 
 
 " Yes, yes," he said, after one glance at the ad 
 dress, and then handed them to Mr. Marston, 
 " my horrid scrawl has made the trouble. Care 
 lessness carelessness carelessness in little 
 things always, always, has wrought misery 
 for me." 
 
 " Save us all ! " ejaculated Mr. Marston 
 " That's so, sure enough ! Where's the dot over 
 the i to make it Miss? Sister Maria, let's call it 
 a joke; don't take it seriously. Let the wedding 
 go to our neighbor's house." And he gave her a 
 loving pat on the shoulder. 
 
 Then she left as silently as before. Returning 
 in the same way, she slipped what had been their 
 contents into the envelopes that Mr. Marston 
 held, a gay laugh disguising the self-contempt 
 she felt at the part she had played in this com 
 edy. 
 
 " Now, Richard," said Mr. Philip Marston, 
 " it's up to you to have the wedding on the day 
 that sister Maria suggested." Handing him the 
 mis-directed letters, he added " May good 
 health and good fortune attend you and your 
 Maria all the days of your life." 
 
 The invitations to the wedding were most 
 carefully penned by Richard Hamilton himself
 
 Miss Maria saw him approaching and frightened by his woe 
 begone appearance, came down the stairs.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 325 
 
 especially was every i dotted. And Miss Pau 
 line Maria Marston noted their prominent ap 
 pearance in each address, as her special duty 
 in the preparations for the event. " No such 
 mistake again for anybody," she said. " And 
 Thaddeus Thorndike Marston is to deliver them, 
 so everybody is sure to get the right one; he 
 never blunders." 
 
 Before the month had expired Mr. Goodwin 
 requested similar preparations for the marriage 
 of himself and Miss Leonard; which had been 
 long in contemplation, and all Pippoton had ex 
 pected for more than a year.
 
 326 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 COURAGE AND PERSEVERANCE. 
 
 MRS. SINCLAIR bestirred herself to see that the 
 wedding, in every particular, should be accord 
 ing to her sister's wishes, and those wishes were 
 as " Richard " (thus they now called Dr. Hamil 
 ton) should dictate. As Dr. Hamilton felt that 
 his contract with Mr. Ingersoll required the 
 quick adjustment of the machine to its work, 
 also his calm attention and personal oversight 
 of its first operations, the wedding took place 
 at once, and the old gray house was the scene 
 of quiet merriment and real happiness the next 
 week. 
 
 Always simple in her tastes, Miss Maria made 
 no change in her dress for the occasion, nor in 
 the appointments of her house-keeping, and Rich 
 ard, admiring the good sense that characterized 
 all the arrangements could only quietly ac 
 quiesce, and assist as he might in her proceed 
 ings a silent but interested spectator of move 
 ments and matters that were as riddles to his un 
 sophisticated nature.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 327 
 
 Rev. Mr. Sterling who had shown himself a 
 kind and faithful pastor of the Mordaunt family 
 through three generations, performed the mar 
 riage service according to the usage of his 
 church. But Thaddeus Thorndike Marston 
 (and he wished his whole name to be written 
 properly in the record of that service) begged, 
 and obtained as he usually did his unusual 
 desires the privilege of Rev. Mr. Walker's pres 
 ence at this ceremony, for the purpose of placing 
 the ring on the bride's finger, according to the 
 usage of his church; he, himself Taddy, the 
 inscrutable with the ring in his own hand till 
 that auspicious moment, stationed as closely as 
 possible at the bride's left side, that he might 
 have positive assurance that everything had 
 been done in regular and proper order. The 
 other boys " of the tribe of seven " being the 
 most interested spectators of the performance, 
 were loud in congratulations, and determined 
 among themselves to get up a repetition of the 
 ring scene at the next Public of the School. 
 
 No one would have supposed that the bright 
 and blooming bride had just recovered from a 
 tedious illness; and it was a great surprise to 
 see how quickly she arranged all affairs to be 
 left in Mrs. Sinclair's control, and then made 
 herself ready for accompanying her husband to 
 Pennsylvania, where they were to remain till
 
 328 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 Harold Marston could join them, and all three 
 go to Atlanta for the winter. 
 
 In November, Harold was to begin operations 
 upon the plantation which his father had bought 
 Mr. Fred Lambert. 
 
 Harold, after making acquaintance the pre 
 vious year with the agents and overseers of Mr. 
 Lambert's other plantations, and comparing re 
 ports from the neighboring planters, felt that 
 with energy and perseverance, and the good 
 stock of common sense that he possessed, he 
 could soon reclaim much of the waste. 
 
 So he determined to begin courageously. His 
 quiet demeanor and affable, friendly approach 
 to these poor, neglected and despised creatures 
 won their hearts at once. The first step that he 
 took towards the reformation of the dreary-look 
 ing expanse, was to arrange the field hands into 
 squads, and partition them into groups for 
 separate and more individual care and surveil 
 lance. This first step systemized matters from 
 the beginning, and as he began, so he continued 
 regulating all the business by simple rules and 
 careful calculations. 
 
 As the weather became cooler, Mr. James 
 Marston began to think of winter arrangements ; 
 feeling that he had enjoyed the hospitality of his 
 brother long enough. He determined, after get 
 ting the Mill into successful operation, to make
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 329 
 
 a home for himself, his boys and his sister, Mrs. 
 Maria Mordaunt, and her children. He soon 
 found a desirable house, quietly made all ar 
 rangements for the change, and then merrily in 
 vited all the Marstons to assist him in opening 
 what he facetiously called a " beehive " on the 
 Valley Road, about a mile from Pleasant Hill. 
 
 The beehive was much admired, and Mr. 
 Philip Marston congratulated his brother on its 
 excellent location. " You'll gather here honey, 
 and make wax enough to supply the whole vil 
 lage " he said. 
 
 Grandmother Marston was much interested in 
 the boys of " the tribe of seven " and though 
 Pleasant Hill was more quiet after her son 
 James took his boys to the beehive, she insisted 
 that once a week they should come for a short 
 talk with her. She was much pleased to know 
 that Harold had decided to take what she called 
 " a common sense view " of study ; and she tried 
 to show Melvin and Lewis how to study the won 
 derful things in nature which they had never 
 noticed. She felt persuaded that the knowledge 
 Harold had gained by such study had led him to 
 be contented yes! to be satisfied with the 
 change which his ill health required. And she 
 was happy in the thought that he had found out 
 that a college education was not indispensible 
 to success in life. Now that he had discovered
 
 330 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 i 
 through pain and disappointment, that he had 
 
 been mistaken, that his vocation was to be the 
 improvement of others, rather than the gratifi 
 cation of his ambition to be a noted man, she 
 determined that all " the tribe of seven " should 
 be led to see the beauty and the wisdom of such 
 a vocation, though it should prove a life work. 
 
 In the Christmas vacation, Walter Dinsmore, 
 spending most of the weeks at Hillsford with his 
 parents, came several times to Pleasant Hill. 
 He had received two interesting letters from 
 Harold which he knew all the Marstons would 
 like to see, and he was eager to hear what they 
 had heard about the doings at " Casa Coreggio, 
 the House of Courage." Harold, an admirer of 
 George MacDonald, the Scotch author, had taken 
 this name which MacDonald had given his own 
 house, to designate the rude cabin in which he 
 lived on the cotton plantation. It surely was an 
 appropriate name for he was finding need of 
 great courage in his efforts in assisting the poor, 
 lazy, shiftless " crackers " to a better mode of 
 life in the dilapidated cottages they occupied. 
 
 " I want to know if you have heard that Dr. 
 Hamilton's elegant new house is on fire? " 
 
 It was Mrs. Nelson's strident voice that spoke, 
 and she went on rapidly to say that the carpen 
 ters had just left when flames burst forth, and 
 the fire department was unable to check them."
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 331 
 
 Barley, at the first cry of fire, had put Charley 
 into the buggy, presuming that all Pippoton 
 would be alarmed, had rushed to Mr. James 
 Marston for particulars, and then to the office 
 for Mr. Philip. On his way there he saw Tom and 
 Edith eager to get home; and the rest of the 
 tribe of seven, returning from the fire, overtook 
 them, and followed on, crowding the old buggy 
 to its widest extent. 
 
 Mrs. Marston met her husband at the door 
 and in a few minutes he gave her a succint ac 
 count of the unfortunate affair. " James has 
 telegraphed the doctor, and I followed it with a 
 few words to Harold expect a return telegram 
 in ten minutes now," he said. Before he had 
 finished speaking, Mr. James Marston, on horse 
 back, came up the driveway, swinging his hat 
 cheerily and spreading a document for them all 
 to see. 
 
 " Strict orders ! " he cried, " from Casa Corcg- 
 giol " 
 
 All the children flocked round as he stepped 
 from the horse, kissed Grandmother effusively 
 and shook hands with Mr. James and his wife, 
 then shouted " It's a pretty gay how-de-do 
 down there to-night ! That doctor's a brick and 
 no mistake! Hear what he says, every one of 
 you." 
 
 Taking Mrs. Mary Marston and Grandmother,
 
 332 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 both, by the arm, he passed to the parlor and 
 seated them, then slowly read the telegram. 
 
 " Glad of it. Scrape up the cinders bury them sell the lot 
 worst blunder yet I want the money here." 
 
 "What do you think of that, Philip?" he 
 asked. 
 
 " He's getting down to bed-rock, that fellow 
 is solid, good metal, after all," was the re 
 sponse. " It's the best thing he's done yet. He 
 wants to chip in with Harold colleague, coad 
 jutor what you will." 
 
 " But, Maria just think of her," said Mrs. 
 Mary Marston. How will she like it? " 
 
 " Like it? she'll be with him, heart and soul; 
 a piece of rescue-work don't you see?" re 
 marked Grandmother. 
 
 " Rescue rescue what's that? anything like 
 knitting- work? 'Cos if 'tis, I'll help," said Polly. 
 
 " Ge ge get the dictionary," stammered 
 Tad, eager to show his interest. 
 
 Roland and Robert started to get it. 
 
 " No, no ! Not that old rickety book ! Papa 
 will explain," said Tom. 
 
 "Just what Harold considers his business," 
 answered the father, very seriously. " And I'll 
 endorse any and all they do in that line." 
 
 " We must get letters 1 , I think by Thursday, 
 surely," said Mr. James Marston.
 
 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 333 
 
 Letters came from Casa Coreggio but not till 
 Saturday, and the tribe of seven must have the 
 contents read in their presence, when all were 
 assembled, (Duncan, of course, included) for 
 their regular weekly visit in Grandmother's 
 room. 
 
 Mr. Philip Marston deputed Tom to read 
 Harold's letter first. It was very short, he had 
 no time for more than a brief statement of plan 
 tation matters, beside expressing his delight at 
 the offer of Dr. Hamilton to become his partner 
 and of Mrs. Hamilton to assist in teaching. 
 
 Dr Hamilton's letter to Mr. James Marston 
 gave a hurried account of his winter thus far 
 " merely a visit," he wrote ; 
 
 ' but I shall remain, and with my wife hope to do something for 
 the comfort and improvement of these wretched people. I am 
 ashamed when I think how I wasted my abilities, merely to 
 gratify my ambition to be considered an inventor. Now I'm to 
 build a settlement house, comfortable quarters for all the fam 
 ilies, with chapel and schoolhouse. So please sell the house-lot 
 and forward the cash immediately, for I am impatient to start 
 the building before I make another blunder. Stupid and selfish 
 I have been ; now, I shall try to make amends for my folly by fol 
 lowing the example of your excellent nephew. Noble fellow, 
 that he is, his courage and energy have led me to this decision : 
 and my good wife not only commends this sudden resolution of 
 mine, but insists on helping me in the work. Please note that 
 our home is now Coso, Corregio the house of courage, and we 
 take up our life-work courageously." 
 
 " Our OO Oldie, isn't it? " stammered Tad- 
 die, sighing dolefully. 
 
 " Yes, yes noble fellow ! " added Polly. 
 " But you can't be, if you don't cure yourself 
 of talking that way."
 
 334 THE CLOSED BALCONY. 
 
 " Courage and perseverance, my son," said Mr. 
 Philip Mars ton, laying his hand tenderly on the 
 stiff wisps of Taddie's cropped hair, " will bring 
 good results. And I'm proud that a son of mine 
 proves their value." 
 
 " Thaddeus Thorndike Marston, youngest son 
 of his father, has equal abilities and will prob 
 ably prove the same," said Grandmother, with a 
 loving pat on the boy's shoulder. 
 
 " I think," said again Mr. Philip Marston, in 
 quiet, thoughtful tones, " that Dr. Hamilton will 
 return in a few years as Governor of one of our 
 Southern States." Seeing a smile on his wife's 
 jubilant eager face, he went on merrily " to ex 
 ploit the resources of our abandoned farms." 
 
 " And build for himself a fine stone house ! " 
 exclaimed Polly. 
 
 " Like Judge Morton's," added Taddie, clap 
 ping his hands with delight. 
 
 " From the granite ledge on the Valley 
 Road ! " cried Roland. " Fine ! fine indeed. " 
 
 " And we'll give him a grand ovation can't 
 we, father? " asked Edith, with a hearty grasp of 
 her father's hand. 
 
 " What does your mother say? " he rejoined. 
 
 " Courage heart work real heart work 
 with steady perseverance" returned Mrs. Mars- 
 ton, " will accomplish wonders." 
 
 THE END.
 
 The Lieutenant 
 
 T/ie Girl and 
 
 The Viceroy 
 
 By 
 
 MARSHALL 
 PUTNAfl 
 THOMPSON 
 
 The Story of an American Lieutenant, 
 
 a Patriotic Beauty and a Spanish 
 
 Viceroy in South America 
 
 F you would read a romance, founded on 
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 with scenes laid in the picturesque state of Kentucky. 
 It depicts, as no previous novel does, people and places 
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