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 tit 1
 
 8 57 A
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL
 
 OTHER WORKS OF FICTION 
 BY F. J. STIMSON 
 
 FIRST HARVESTS. 
 
 OUR CONSUL AT CARLSRUHE. 
 
 THE CRIME OF HENRY VANE. 
 
 THE SENTIMENTAL CALENDAR. 
 
 JETHRO BACON OF SANDWICH ; THE WEAKER SEX. 
 
 MRS KNOLLYS AND OTHER STORIES. 
 
 THE RESIDUARY LEGATEE. 
 
 IN THREE ZONES. 
 
 KING NOANETT. 
 
 PIRATE GOLD. 
 
 GUERNDALE.
 
 OF CALIF. LIBRARY, LOS ANGELES
 
 LAUREL RUN 
 
 II 
 
 The operatives all clustered around Mary Ravenel." 
 
 [Page 284.]
 
 IN CURE OF 
 HER SOUL 
 
 " Playes made from hallie tales I holde unmeete; 
 Lette somme greate storie of a manne be songe." 
 
 CHATTERTON. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
 1906
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1906, BY 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
 
 Published June. 1906
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 BOOK ONE 1 
 
 BOOK TWO ifjs 
 
 BOOK THREE 295 
 
 BOOK FOUR 519 
 
 2133067
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 FACING 
 PAGE 
 
 The operatives all clustered around Mary Ravenel " 
 
 Frontispiece 
 
 He bent over her, waiting " 26 
 
 She whispered very softly: By having no heart in it! " 112 
 
 Brazen it out, Peter ! Brazen it out ! " . . . . 238 
 
 They came now out on a crag where all the world 
 
 around was lower land " 288 
 
 In my days we did not play with a man " . . 342 
 
 Like a fat, black spider with his legs drawn under 
 
 him" 426 
 
 One lamp burned there continually " 598 
 
 It passed through the iron doors for the last time " . . 604
 
 BOOK ONE 
 
 SAGA : 
 
 " Oh, it was Olaf Trygvasen, 
 Sailing o er the grey seas young?
 
 IT was a little nook of meadow, sloping to a 
 point where the forest edges met. Behind, the 
 hill rose, rocky, covered close with old dwarfed trees. 
 The sun lay hot in the little triangle of lawn, but 
 from the narrow combe below came a strong draught 
 of cool salt air. There the Sea lay, masked. 
 
 Altogether one of the sweetest of those sweet 
 places on the Beverly shore where the sea and 
 forest touch: appreciated as such by the good taste 
 of Mrs Arthur Shirley and thought worthy, with 
 out alteration, of forming a nook within her lawn. 
 
 Had you asked young Austin Pinckney, four- 
 and-twenty as he lay there, whether the drama of 
 his life lay yet behind him, I think he would have 
 been honest enough to tell you No. Most young 
 men, however young, fancy they have had experi 
 ences ; as they fancy always that they are in love : 
 they want to be, and it is quite enough if they like 
 any one girl better than another. But Pinckney 
 was no fool; and, born in Germany, he had lived in 
 Paris, had been through colleges in America and 
 England, and now came to the land of his fathers
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " for good." For the one thing his somewhat pur 
 poseless father had determined (he had lived his life 
 as Consul at Carlsruhe) was that his son Charles 
 should make a career at home. 
 
 Pinckney, then, had had no experiences no 
 more than the brook beside which he lay ; which was 
 born but a few rods behind him, by some hoary 
 gray rocks in the w r ood, in a cradle of pines, gurgled 
 merrily out into its first sunlight, sunny and clear; 
 it showed its depths to the sky ; then with hardly 
 a fall, it sprang through the little combe and, still 
 all ignorant whether it was to become a Mississippi 
 or a Merrimac, it met the ocean and all was over. 
 So soon born, so soon to enter the sea. 
 
 Pinckney s plans had been to enter public life. 
 It is more difficult in America than in England, and 
 for that purpose, not with much view to practice, 
 he meant to study the law. In America a man must 
 take some mask of serving himself if he would serve 
 his country. 
 
 For the furtherance of these two ambitions, he 
 intended to maintain a small office in some upper 
 floor on Pine Street, and had already become an 
 active member of the New York Civil Service Re 
 form Club. Furthermore, he had written an essay 
 upon the Australian ballot and had become a member 
 of the Charity Organization Society. He was now 
 
 4
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 considering whether he should go to the Cambridge 
 Law School or first pass a year with the New York 
 firm whose leading partner was their family trustee. 
 
 If he had any other musings, plannings, or 
 dreamings they were probably plannings : one only 
 dreams of the unattainable the day and place dis 
 couraged all but dreams. And even if our hero had 
 the wish so strongly as to be the subject of a dream, 
 the very real Miss Dorothy Somers that was its 
 object was so tangible and near a possibility (she 
 only lived so far away as Philadelphia) as hardly 
 to disturb his waking hours. Her he had met 
 abroad : with her he had come through that Ameri 
 can form of trying-it-on flirtation which (however 
 unelevated) serves a practical nation a practical 
 purpose. It is as much as to say, Would we like it 
 were we wed? And wisely perhaps our matrons 
 allow their young to spend half the day and night 
 together, to see if they are bored in that. She was 
 very beautiful, only eighteen ; certainly he had been 
 " taken with her." 
 
 But that she filled no great space, in his mind 
 at least, for the moment, would appear from the 
 start with which he heard her name mentioned. For 
 his musings, plannings, dreamings were disturbed 
 just here by old Tom Brandon, called by all the 
 world the Major, who sauntered agreeably up to 
 
 5
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 tell him, first, that the dressing-bell had sounded, 
 and second (but of less personal importance) that 
 young Gansevoort was " caught " at last. 
 
 " And by the Somers, of all people in the world," 
 said he, " Miss Dorothy Somers ; they say she is a 
 beauty." 
 
 And this it was that made our hero start ; could 
 the Major have been aware? But furthermore he 
 said nothing; and the two went in to dinner. 
 
 It must not be thought Tom Brandon was a 
 gossip. Men really do not gossip so much as 
 women ; and Tom Brandon only liked to hear the 
 news : he did not fabricate it, nor anticipate it ; and 
 when he had fairly heard it, he dismissed it from 
 his mind with, at most, a remark or two. No, he 
 was not a gossip ; but he took a kindly interest in 
 the affairs of men. He belonged to that large fel 
 lowship who must get their interest in life from 
 the lives of others, not their own. They are not to 
 be confounded with an analogous company that live 
 on others money, houses, and yachts, and give re 
 turn of gossip and fine raiment ; he was rich enough ; 
 to the race of our Tom belong the nobler renunci- 
 ators and the kindly companions. Perhaps he had 
 had a dream in his youth ; a dream with no awaken 
 ing. And Tom had taken a fancy to our hero; for 
 give him, then, his little experiment. 
 
 6
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 "Gansevoort? Petrus Gansevoort? Why, he s 
 half-witted," was all our hero said, as they ap 
 proached the veranda from the lawn. 
 
 " Oh, no only reserved kept apart from an 
 avid world," said Tom. But Pinckney had pulled 
 himself together and expressed himself no more. 
 From which Mr Brandon was too old a bird to draw 
 conclusions. 
 
 II 
 
 MRS ARTHUR SHIRLEY was Austin Pinck- 
 ney s first cousin. Her mother s sister had 
 been Mary Austin, who married her cousin Charles 
 Pinckney, and died many years before. As they 
 walked up her lawn there was a glimmer of bright 
 dresses on the veranda, no unpleasant thing to see even 
 when a man is hungry ; and a glimmer of white arms 
 and shoulders (for dinner was at eight, to do no 
 injustice to her sunset), no unpleasant thing to see 
 even when a man is cold. And there was already 
 an evening chill in the air. 
 
 There was a murmur of excited voices as our 
 men came up. It was soon evident that they, too, 
 were discussing the great engagement ; that gos 
 samer " maiden s yes " that determined the future 
 of so many millions. Our dear old Doctor Holmes 
 
 7
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 has told us of that yes of another Dorothy, and 
 that it determined future men ; yet probably the 
 newspapers of that time did not chronicle it. But 
 to-morrow you would find in most newspapers of 
 the land a space awarded to this affirmative of 
 Dorothy s rather more than was given to the great 
 labor troubles only less perhaps than they ac 
 corded to a murder with an ax, followed by dis 
 section, authorship unknown. There would be a 
 picture of the murdered woman s body ; perhaps 
 also there would now be one of Miss Somers ; her 
 person would at all events be described minutely, 
 as well as the contents of Gansevoort s purse. 
 
 The girls did not stop talking upon Pinckney s 
 approach, and he felt glad of the chance that he 
 had had previous notice of their news ; not dreaming 
 that old Tom Brandon had wandered in the shrub 
 beries for half an hour to find him. But it was 
 evident that some of them, at least, did not take 
 the newspaper view of the situation. If some of 
 the girls were dazzled by its prominence, most 
 American women fortunately are too fine for any 
 solution of life problems but the truth. A woman 
 of thirty, just married (and American girls at 
 thirty are at their best), spoke openly. "I have 
 had a letter from a friend in Philadelphia," she 
 said. " She tells me that her mother has brought 
 
 8
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 the whole thing about. She was a Riddle, you 
 know." 
 
 Pinckney excused himself on the plea that he 
 must dress for dinner. A leather bag for the house 
 letters hung always at the Shirleys front door ; his 
 eye caught it as he passed, and going to his room, 
 he seized a sheet of note-paper and began to write. 
 He had but half an hour to dress, and twenty min 
 utes were spent in the writing of this note: 
 
 " DEAR Miss SOMERS : 
 
 " Is it true what I heard to-day ? Are you engaged ? 
 " Yours, 
 
 "C. A. PINCKNEY." 
 
 Fifteen minutes of the time was spent in de 
 termining the adverb. He wrote " Yours ever," 
 " Yours sincerely," " Yours faithfully," and finally 
 settled on just " Yours." He addressed the note 
 and sealed it carefully. Then he dressed hurriedly, 
 still thinking; so carelessly that his tie became an 
 object of contemptuous notice to Sammy Bowles, 
 downstairs. As Pinckney came down and crossed 
 the slippery hall, he saw that all the company had 
 gone in to dinner. He stopped a moment by the 
 leather post-bag, the note in his hand. Then he 
 tore it up, threw the fragments carefully in the 
 fireplace, and went in. 
 
 2 9
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 It has been said that you have three chances of 
 happiness at a dinner (wherein it is three times a 
 better thing than life) the woman to the left of 
 you, the woman to the right of you, and the cook. 
 Older men, they say, have a fourth in the bottle. 
 But youth is indifferent to its chances, exacts its 
 choice of fate, and has a digestion too perfect to 
 be discriminating. To Pinckney s left was a clever- 
 hearted woman, to his right a sweet-minded girl ; 
 the Major would have looked at the one and talked 
 to the other ; Pinckney looked and talked haphazard 
 and ate no dinner. His mind was busy assuring his 
 heart that it had no personal interest in the future 
 of Miss Dorothy Somers. Then suddenly he heard 
 her name and felt the blood mounting to his beard 
 less cheek. Boys are very like girls ; despite any 
 difference of moral code or conduct, prudence is 
 shared by both sexes alike ; most men will blush 
 longer than a woman will. As if one should be 
 ashamed of caring, however lightly, for another one ! 
 
 " Why does she do it ? " his married neighbor 
 had said; and it became evident that Gansevoort was 
 regarded as quite impossible. The Major asked 
 how old she was. 
 
 " Not twenty," said Mrs Shirley. " I remem 
 ber when Dolly Riddle married Mr Somers at New 
 port in the sixties ; nobody knew much about him ; 
 
 10
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 he was thought rich. But the daughter cannot be 
 twenty." 
 
 " Too young," said the Major, " to have had the 
 usual explanation The Major seldom forced his 
 efforts, but this time he paused for the expected 
 question. Every woman at the table asked it ex 
 cept the young girl on Pinckney s right, who 
 opened expectant eyes. 
 
 " Another man," said Brandon, sententiously. 
 His glance fell upon Pinckney as he spoke. But 
 Pinckney knew it was not he. He knew well enough 
 what the Major meant, though, and his conscious 
 ness got a lonely moment while the others were ask 
 ing the oracle to be explicit. 
 
 Suddenly his pulses bounded again. Could it 
 be but no ; he was not vain enough for that. Yet 
 he had never asked her to marry him. 
 
 " If there wasn t a man in the past to make her 
 do it, there ought to be a man in the present to pre 
 vent her," went on Brandon. " Where are all you 
 young chaps? Is your blood all cooled by money- 
 making? Ah, there was a use for the gentleman 
 of leisure." 
 
 " Why don t you try it yourself, Major Bran 
 don ? " It was the clever lady on Pinckney s left 
 who spoke. 
 
 " Ah, madam, I am too old for love-making " 
 
 11
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " / shouldn t think so," said the lady gal 
 lantly. 
 
 The Major pressed his hand to his heart. " But 
 perhaps with me there was a long time ago. I re 
 main true to an early dream," closed Brandon with 
 mocking solemnity. For he had a cynic s disbelief 
 in the world s understanding. 
 
 " You ? " cried Mrs Shirley. " Girls, he was the 
 greatest flirt I ever knew." 
 
 " My flirtations were but a mask to hide my con 
 stancy." There was a general laugh, and the con 
 versation drifted from the danger point. 
 
 But after dinner, on the piazza above the sea- 
 broken crags, Pinckney found the Major beside him, 
 and they smoked together. Pinckney hoped the 
 older man would talk of Miss Somers again ; but 
 the Major persistently didn t. On the contrary, he 
 maintained entire silence; but the Major s silence 
 could be suggestive. So pretty soon our hero found 
 himself asking the Major if he knew Miss Somers. 
 
 " No," said the Major, " do you? " 
 
 " A little is Pete Gansevoort as bad as he is 
 represented? " 
 
 " He is very bad, very coarse, very stupid, very 
 rich " 
 
 " It seems a pity she can t be saved from it." 
 
 " Is she worth saving? " 
 12
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Pinckncy s voice shook, ever so little. " I think 
 so," said he. " I don t know her very well." 
 
 " Then I advise you not to trouble yourself 
 about her." 
 
 " But suppose one were her friend appar 
 ently she has none near her would it not be rather 
 terrible not to trouble oneself? Her soul is too fine 
 for his." 
 
 " Young man," said the Major, sententiously, 
 " one lesson I learned in early life : never to trouble 
 oneself about young women s souls." 
 
 Ill 
 
 PINCKNEY had been landed only a very few 
 days from a summer spent in Baden, the 
 country of his birth. He had come to New York ; 
 and there had only stopped to report at the prom 
 inent firm already alluded to and to engage himself 
 rooms in a fashionable bachelors flat on Fifth Ave 
 nue. All this his patrimony permitted. His father 
 was deceased, and his three sisters had married three 
 German barons. Then he had come right on to the 
 North Shore. It was in the most practical state of 
 mind that he had returned from London ; he was 
 about to enter into American civilization in good 
 
 13
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 earnest and begin by mastering the as yet unde 
 cided intricacies of the New York code of practice. 
 He also meant to read some law. Eclecticism is the 
 vice of America s youth. 
 
 But, besides this, Pinckney had been brought 
 up abroad by a father who was expatriated, side 
 tracked. Possibly to such the home looks fairer ; 
 at all events, the son was full of enthusiasm about 
 America. He hoped to adorn it, with his life ; but 
 furthermore to live his life, as a citizen. His lot 
 to work among the poor in college settlements, 
 among the poor in spirit, in courageous action, 
 among the poor in ideals, in the higher civic duty. 
 Among his side motives, it is quite possible the poor 
 boy counted the regeneration of the city government 
 of New York, for that was to be the town of his 
 adoption ; it was the biggest place, the most typical. 
 Yet the guidance of his country s women, still less 
 of any one countrywoman, had never yet assailed his 
 mind. In the American girl, as Pinckney believed, 
 there was no flaw. She was no part of his problem. 
 But the streamlet flows where the land falls. 
 
 Coming out before breakfast, next morning, he 
 met one of the most charming of them ; she was 
 climbing on the cliffs that fringed the lawn, hold 
 ing on to the overhanging birch trees, and the sea 
 made a raucous noise at her feet. When they came 
 
 14
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 back to breakfast, he asked his cousin if it was 
 de rigueur for them to go to church. But the Shir- 
 leys were good old Boston Unitarians, and his cousin 
 seemed rather puzzled at the question. A Boston 
 Unitarian only finds out at his funeral what church 
 he does attend. " The church is at Beverly," she 
 said. " You may go if you like ; I think there will 
 be room. The break will start at ten." 
 
 The break started without Austin, or his com 
 panion, who was his young dinner neighbor of the 
 night before. They walked along the cliffs to the 
 beach, and then along the beach to Manchester, 
 where Pinckney managed to hire a dory to row home. 
 Fortunately, the day was still, and the young lady 
 was in russet shoes and short skirt. Pinckney liked 
 the young lady very much ; but he did not ask her 
 how much she liked him. Mrs Shirley seemed rather 
 pleased at their being late to luncheon, and sug 
 gested they should go to drive in the buckboard for 
 the afternoon. Pinckney was already too much of 
 an American to be misled by the national temper of 
 kindly approval of the companionship of young peo 
 ple; but it is a dangerous thing to talk long to one 
 young girl when thinking of one other. The boy 
 found himself in a gentle mood that evening. He 
 half regretted not sending that letter. After din 
 ner he had little mind for the men s talk, but a 
 
 15
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 certain inbred sense of conduct bade him avoid the 
 young girl. So pretty soon he joined his cousin 
 and her married friend on the dark piazza, where 
 the sea was making reminiscent noises. 
 
 " I assure you that it is all the mother s doing," 
 the friend was saying. " She writes me that she is 
 constantly with her, but the poor girl is crying night 
 and day." 
 
 Our hero promptly sheered off, crossing the 
 lawn ; under the shadow of some cedars he lit a cigar ; 
 and then went down the cliffs and wandered on the 
 strip of shingle, as he thought, to think. But the 
 sea, or anything eternal, is a most dangerous com 
 panion at such times ; entering into our emotions 
 with a relation quite temporary and personal. Only 
 persons without imagination call the ocean or the 
 night sky of stars or the void prairies unsympa 
 thetic at such moments. To us others it seems to 
 say : We are indeed eternal, but our courses are fixed ; 
 you may really will something. We have no pas 
 sions ; but you can act. We feel with you ; and you 
 are right in feeling as you do. Generally, this con 
 verse with inanimate nature impels to animate action. 
 
 And then, the young man didn t sleep; or not 
 for some hours. Visioned in the darkness was the 
 image of a lovely girl, crying in her room, alone. 
 
 There is something reassuring in the voice of 
 16
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 birds, even after the most unquiet night ; and the 
 moment they began to sing, outside amid the fruit 
 trees, Pinckney fell asleep. He woke with a start, 
 at breakfast time; and hurrying downstairs, he had 
 another start as he went through the hall. For 
 there on the table, amid all the less momentous let 
 ters, lay one whose postmark the young man divined 
 before he snatched it up to look at it; it was Phila 
 delphia, and the handwriting he knew ; and he blushed 
 as he thrust it hastily into his pocket. Fortunately, 
 it was his left hand, so that his right was free to 
 shake his cousin s ; his other hand still grasped the 
 letter tightly as if it were needful to hold it down. 
 There was no chance to look at it before he sat 
 down to breakfast, and he wondered how she could 
 have learned his address. " No sugar, please," he 
 said to Mrs Shirley for the second time. After all, 
 it was probably a mere note, announcing her en 
 gagement, written to him with fifty other friends. 
 At last, the meal was over; he ran up to his bed 
 room and broke the seal it was addressed to him 
 
 at Mrs Shirley s: 
 
 "PHILADELPHIA, September 2, 1884. 
 " DEAR MR PINCKNEY : 
 
 " Have you heard of my engagement to Mr Gansevoort ? 
 I know you have returned, and though you have not come 
 to congratulate me, I am still 
 
 " Yours, DOROTHY SOMERS." 
 
 17
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 There was the faintest possible dash before the 
 word " congratulate " ; otherwise the note was a 
 natural enough note, he argued, if written to an old 
 friend. It was odd she had used the form of sig 
 nature adopted for the note he had torn up, and 
 the " still " might mean anything. Nonsense, it 
 referred to the " though " before it. 
 
 As he folded it and replaced it carefully in his 
 pocket, he noticed that his heart was beating vio 
 lently. 
 
 IV 
 
 A MAN need love a woman very little before 
 he begins to think that he alone can make 
 her happy," said the Major impressively. It was 
 the middle of the same morning; Youth and Age 
 were lying on the grass together; and Youth, 
 in form supposititious, had been laying before 
 Age something of his own case. " She ll do very 
 well." 
 
 " I don t think I alone can make her happy," 
 said Youth. " I have no intention of trying. But 
 I can t avoid going to see her." 
 
 Age paused, before replying, to listen to the 
 long smooth slide of the pebbles in the chasm 
 below. 
 
 18
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " You live in New York, she in Philadelphia ; 
 there is an excuse in ninety miles. She can hardly 
 telephone you that distance 
 
 " Her note requires some answer 
 
 " It needn t be personal." 
 
 " Look at it," cried Youth impulsively, thrust 
 ing the document in the hand of Age. The Major 
 fingered it as if it were a bomb. 
 
 " Please read it," said Pinckney. 
 
 The Major unfolded the note slowly, held it 
 between his thumb and finger, and carefully adjusted 
 his eyeglasses. He paused some moments over the 
 signature. " Dorothy Somers pretty name," said 
 he. " The note is a masterpiece of concise English. 
 Did you know her as well as this before she became 
 engaged to young Gansevoort? " 
 
 "As well as what? She wrote fifty such notes, 
 I suppose 
 
 " Then why does it require a personal answer? " 
 
 Pinckney colored. "Well, no, I didn t." 
 
 " Hm," said the Major, and looked out to sea 
 where an ocean tug was towing a train of coal 
 barges. " Why can t they hitch on to one man 
 without towing another in their wake? It doesn t 
 appear," he concluded, handing the letter back to 
 Pinckney, " whether she wants your congratulations 
 or your condolences." 
 
 19
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " Condolences, very likely," said Pinckney with 
 a laugh. 
 
 The Major s face darkened. " You must re 
 member, there s but one way to console a woman for 
 her emotional misfortunes You have decided to 
 go to-night? " 
 
 " I ve got to go to New York to-night, any 
 how " 
 
 " And to Philadelphia to-morrow." 
 
 " I ll think it over." 
 
 " My goodness, don t do anything of the sort," 
 cried the Major in alarm. " Don t think anything 
 at all about it. And don t go to Philadelphia. Go 
 to Plunder s and send her twenty dollars worth of 
 flowers, with a pretty letter. Regard no expense 
 at critical moments. And in a letter you can say 
 what you like." . 
 
 The Major waited, and both were silent, look 
 ing over a radiant, almost luminous sea: not a 
 shadow but of bright color lay in the day, and the 
 whitecaps dazzled where the ultramarine broke. 
 Over such a sea sailed Tristan, bound from Ireland, 
 or Helen, bound for Troy. The Major seemed to 
 hope that his young friend would reply, but Pinck 
 ney was silent. 
 
 " In a letter you may say what you like," the 
 Major repeated, and then, " She won t show it to 
 
 20
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 her husband," he added. The addition was a mis 
 take. Pinckney started up. 
 
 " Take another cigar," said the Major. " To 
 try Man, the Lord created Woman but then, re 
 lenting, gave him tobacco and rum that he might 
 bear her ways." But the young man shook his head 
 and ran into the house. 
 
 AT dinner the Major ascribed Pinckney s de 
 parture to a sudden political engagement in 
 New York. " This nomination of Elaine means 
 much to a young man with a fresh eye. He has 
 proclaimed himself a Democrat and gone on to work 
 for Mr Bayard. It makes little difference in the 
 end. Every party in power develops its own rump." 
 Thus pleasantly did old Brandon divert the minds 
 of his hearers and screen his young hero from the 
 ridicule which in America attaches to the man whose 
 actions are ever swayed by his emotions. 
 
 But the cries of the longshoremen on a New 
 York pier woke Pinckney the following morning. 
 He drove to his so temporary bachelor rooms for 
 breakfast and a change of raiment, called at a florist s, 
 and took the noon train for Philadelphia. 
 
 That city was wrapped in slumberous heat. Our 
 21
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 hero walked, desirous of arriving quietly. A cab 
 rolls to the door, creates a certain excitement! The 
 neighbors look out, the servant is impressed; you 
 leave a card, and that is definitive. But arriving 
 quietly on foot, if the lady be out, it is easy to say 
 you will come again in an hour or so. Perhaps, 
 then, the lady will be in. Or, if she be not (and the 
 butler knows his business), you may as well stay 
 away for good; in either case, your mind is relieved. 
 And Pinckney was determined to relieve his 
 mind. He had no idea of not seeing Miss Somers. 
 He knew she was at home in her own house 
 probably preparing the wedding trousseau. If 
 there were to be a sacrifice it should at least 
 be a voluntary one, made of her own free will. 
 (Heaven knows what picture he had in his mind of 
 a fair girl weeping in an upper chamber while the 
 piles of cartons, of laces and chiffons, accumulated 
 at the front door.) However, it was an unconscious 
 picture ; Pinckney thought he was looking at the 
 quaint little red-brick houses, wooden-shuttered, 
 marble-rimmed, with the toy white marble stoops ; 
 these houses were all hermetically sealed ; the tinkle 
 of the horse-car on its single track sounded lonely 
 on the narrow street. He felt glad that all the 
 world was away. Though, on the surface, it was 
 to be a call of congratulation, Pinckney was subtly
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 not completely unconscious that it conveyed, alter 
 natively, the invitation to lead the higher life. Con 
 sciously, he was quite sure almost as sure as he had 
 been with the Major that it proffered no such 
 romantic alternative. But not to come would have 
 been delinquent, if there were any if on the 
 chance Pinckney took his thoughts by the neck and 
 shoulders and placed them back on the track. To 
 send merely flowers had been a cold acceptance of 
 a situation which, after all, given such acquiescence, 
 might some time, in some future spiritual state, be 
 in part his fault. 
 
 The sound of the doorbell startled him. As it 
 reverberated through an empty house, it seemed to 
 advertise his coming throughout all the street. The 
 house was more pretentious than its neighbors and 
 presented edgewise a higher, narrow front of brown 
 stone; behind the twenty-foot fafade it was tunnel- 
 shaped and ran back indefinitely. This Pinckney 
 well knew, and after a proper delay he heard the 
 butler s steps echoing along the wooden-paved hall. 
 " Not at home." Of course not. " Give her this 
 card perhaps I can call again in an hour." To 
 send up his card, then, was practically to insist ; he 
 did not wish to force his visit ; the delay gave her 
 at least the option. So his thoughts repeated them 
 selves ; and he went and sat, like any other loafer, 
 
 23
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 in the little park near by. This was empty, even 
 of nursemaids and children ; in their stead were 
 strange visitants, barbarians, to whose incursions it 
 lay open in the summer months. He sat down and 
 waited. 
 
 The hour passed by slowly. In front of him 
 was a club, with awnings at the open windows. It 
 seemed empty ; but Pinckney had no desire to be seen 
 by any possible acquaintance, and he changed his 
 seat. The hour lagged interminably ; he counted the 
 people in the square; then he counted the negroes 
 among them. He tried to collect his thoughts ; he 
 had none. He only felt that he should keep this 
 episode in his life unknown, and as a gentleman 
 passed by with clothes of a familiar cut, he decided 
 that this place was too public. Four blocks south, 
 one east, and then returning, should make a mile ; 
 in that heat it might dispose of twenty minutes. 
 But when this evolution was performed the chimes 
 struck only the half-hour. Yet he felt a sort of 
 duty in keeping the date exact ; his half of the tryst 
 should be performed punctiliously. He was build 
 ing a clear conscience for his after life. 
 
 When at last he stood before the door the house 
 seemed as lonely as he had left it. The thought then 
 first crossed his mind that a denial would hardly 
 be noncommittal. Would it not perhaps imply a
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 reason that they should not meet? Again he heard 
 the butler s ringing step what a singular messen 
 ger of fate ! " Miss Somers will receive you, sir," 
 he said ; Pinckney fancied, with a shade more inten 
 tion than an ordinary call required. He hated to 
 feel himself blush before the butler; and he entered 
 the dark drawing-room too conscious that his emo 
 tions lay but throat-deep. 
 
 But Pinckney, at his first glance, blushed again 
 for his fatuity. Dorothy (he had called her Doro 
 thy) might already have been Mrs Petrus Ganse- 
 voort for the aplomb with which she received him. 
 And suddenly he felt himself at a loss to justify 
 his call. 
 
 " I I only landed from Europe last week," he 
 began. (Banal and she knew it already.) "I I 
 have come to congratulate you upon your engage 
 ment." 
 
 " Yes I am so much obliged to you for the 
 flowers you sent. We are to be married next month. 
 Mr Gansevoort desires it, and mama does not be 
 lieve in long engagements." 
 
 She indicated, with a turn of her hand, the flow 
 ers on a table beside her. He saw then that there 
 were many others. His modesty now ran to the 
 other extreme and pictured him but one of an indis- 
 tinguished multitude. Why should he call more 
 3 25
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 than the rest? Perhaps they had called, and she 
 was used to it. 
 
 " Is your mother well ? " He felt himself a boy 
 again, for saying it. 
 
 " Oh, mama is quite well." A slight note of 
 impatience arrested his attention, and for the first 
 time he looked at her. And then, perhaps, the man 
 in him was conscious of a thrill. For no man can 
 so look on a woman without it. She had but the 
 usual ivory pallor of her unusual beauty. True, 
 there were dark rings under the strange eyes there 
 often were, when she looked her best those strange 
 eyes that seemed to drink in all the light and give 
 out none. Yet, for the first time, it struck him 
 how young she was ; there was a something shrink 
 ing about the girlish frame she carried so well; as 
 he looked she met his eyes for half an instant, then 
 sank upon a sofa. 
 
 " I m so sorry you cannot meet Mr Ganse- 
 voort. His business called him West for a few 
 days." 
 
 " I am sorry," said Pinckney grimly. There 
 was something about this perfect acceptance of the 
 situation to make him a trifle angry. He changed 
 his cane from his right hand to his left. After all, 
 he was ready to go. 
 
 " But please sit down," said Miss Somers. 
 26
 
 PHILADELPHIA 
 
 " He bent over her, waiting."
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 After all he could hardly go yet. She seemed 
 taller sitting; her fine white gown fell in maturer 
 folds, above which the deep bronze of her hair was 
 lost in the shadows of the room. Then he looked at 
 her, steadily. After all, he was not in love with her 
 definitely. Yet he wondered if she remembered. 
 It was not for him to remind her. 
 
 " Did you have a pleasant summer ? " 
 
 " Very," said Pinckney dryly. " I think I must 
 be going my train leaves at five. I only ran down 
 to He left the sentence unfinished, surprised at 
 the slightest possible click in his throat. He hoped 
 at least she had not heard it absurd as it was. He 
 rose hurriedly. But she did not get up. He ex 
 tended his hand. She did not grasp it. Slowly 
 her shoulders sank to the arm of the ottoman ; she 
 was breathing rapidly. She leaned her head upon 
 her hand. 
 
 His face burned. Her other arm lay nerveless 
 on her lap. With an effort he did not grasp it. 
 "Good-by," said he. 
 
 Then he saw that the slender frame was shaken 
 with sobs. " Miss Somers Dorothy ! " 
 
 There was no reply, but she was clearly crying. 
 Her white wrist was burning hot. Slowly, slowly 
 he bent over her, waiting ; lower, lower. She turned 
 her face. Their lips met. 
 
 27
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 VI 
 
 WHAT was the last thing she said to you ? " 
 It was the Major who spoke, after a long 
 pause. It was two o clock in the morning by this 
 time, at the Major s club in New York, where Pinck- 
 ney had met him just before midnight. The meet 
 ing was not by appointment, but Pinckney had found 
 him there, the Major having returned from Beverly 
 by the day train. The Major had a habit of turn 
 ing up where he was wanted. He said the Beverly 
 house was stupid after his young friend s departure. 
 A champagne glass stood at his elbow, empty; an 
 other stood at Pinckney s, full. 
 
 " The last thing she said to me was Go. 
 
 " Which is as much as to say * Come. 
 
 " I shall go back to-day," said the young man. 
 " Do you think she will break the engagement for 
 mally?" 
 
 " It strikes me you have broken it yourself. 
 You should save her further trouble 
 
 " By seeing him ? " 
 
 " By managing her." 
 
 " Her mother will never consent ; 
 
 " We won t consult the old lady. I ll give her 
 away myself." The Major s face was radiant. 
 
 28
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " I ll see you through." Pinckney s eyes flashed, 
 but about his lips lay also a curve of determination. 
 
 " I must see her first." 
 
 " Certainly. But I ll see everybody else. Par 
 son, clerk, reporters and Gansevoort, too, if he 
 wants it. I ll give them all satisfaction." The 
 Major looked ten years younger as he spoke. 
 
 " It must be in a church 
 
 " Certainly. And I ll have my sister there 
 
 Pinckney grasped his hand. " I can t say it, 
 but you know what I feel." 
 
 " Don t try to say it. Of course I do ! Why, 
 it s like being married myself! The one experience 
 I ve never had everything comes to him who waits. 
 I know just how you feel. I m dead in love myself. 
 Don t try to say it to me tell her, though." And 
 the Major poured out a glass of wine. 
 
 Pinckney thought to let pass his pretended 
 misunderstanding of his gratitude obviously pre 
 tended, for the Major s eyes were moist. He 
 sprang up. 
 
 " It s three o clock. I must take the train at 
 six at Jersey City. I ll have a bath first I must 
 take the train, though. I must see Miss Somers 
 the first thing in the morning." 
 
 " Of course you must. I ll go with you tele 
 graph my sister to come on later."
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " We must be married to-morrow." 
 
 " Nonsense. To-day, man, to-day. You should 
 remember that you have placed Miss Somers in an 
 impossible situation. Not a moment should be lost 
 in regularizing it. As for Mr Gansevoort he may 
 come back sooner than he said almost at any mo 
 ment. Then think of the poor girl s position get 
 ting notes or telegrams from him every two hours, 
 I suppose knowing all the time what she means 
 to do." 
 
 But Pinckney required no argument. " Of 
 course, if it can be done." 
 
 " Certainly, it can be done if you don t mind 
 being married in the afternoon. I ll be your best 
 man, and my sister her bridesmaid her sister is 
 too young to be told otherwise I d tell her. You 
 can usually trust a girl to take the proper view. 
 Brothers are unsafe. Fortunately she hasn t any. 
 And I ll telegraph a High-Church clergyman I know 
 Father Conynghame, a real good fellow who be 
 lieves that marriage is a sacrament and the civil 
 law an impertinence and I ll get a judge and a 
 bishop 
 
 Pinckney looked up interrogatively. 
 
 " Of course you must have a bishop. My dear 
 fellow, you must pardon me, but in view of the 
 somewhat sudden engagement between you and the 
 
 30
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 lady and the improbability of there being many 
 invited guests, it is advisable that the wedding should 
 be celebrated with all possible ceremony." 
 
 " But without the mother s consent? " 
 
 " I ll give the bishop a hint that the mother can t 
 consent. Trust me for that and a good High 
 Churchman to take the catholic view. It s divorcing 
 they jib at, not marrying." 
 
 "When will you tell her?" 
 
 "Well," said the Major, "I ll do that after 
 dinner." And this time he drank his wine. 
 
 The events of that day passed over our hero like 
 a dream. His emotions were too much roused to 
 leave to his mind much contemplation of the actual 
 facts. But the facts succeeded each other with a 
 decision and rapidity that would else have taken his 
 breath away. And through them all he was con 
 scious of the ever-present activity of his best man. 
 It was under his advice that he telegraphed Miss 
 Somers that he was returning to Philadelphia and 
 would call in the course of that morning, also giv 
 ing his address at a certain hotel. " She may pre 
 fer the meeting elsewhere than at home ; we must 
 disregard trifling conventions." Under his advice 
 steps were taken to borrow his aunt s house in Lenox. 
 " A trip to Europe would be a common perform 
 ance; we must avoid all that looks sudden or unpre- 
 
 31
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 meditated, as well as any appearance of concealment. 
 At Lenox you may have solitude and yet be in 
 Society." The Major spoke sententiously, as be 
 came one who spake whereof he knew. All our hero 
 did was to obtain a stay of all these proceedings 
 until he had seen Miss Somers a decision the pro 
 priety of which the Major did not question, though 
 he considered it unnecessary. His confidence in her 
 love for his young friend would have been touching 
 to a bystander; there came a time when it touched 
 Pinckney himself. " She will never marry him 
 now," he said. " If she does, you don t want to 
 marry her." 
 
 But the Major himself was to be given a lesson 
 in good breeding on this occasion. The hours passed 
 long upon the railway and yet Pinckney could have 
 wished they had been longer. So to every young 
 man, at the moment of plighting his troth to a young 
 lady, I suppose certainly to every one on the verge 
 of marriage there comes a moment, not of revul 
 sion, but of acute perception. Besides the intoxi 
 cation of having another life with yours, the raptur 
 ous modesty of undeserved consecration to intimacy 
 with a more sacred being, the glamour that the mys 
 tery of Sex throws over purity and Pinckney was 
 both pure and modest there must flash with all the 
 aggregate definiteness of a camera obscura upon the 
 
 32
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 mind the visions of all things present and to come, in 
 the path chosen or beside it. He had no concern about 
 his own happiness : the witchery of Sex is always 
 at his age strong enough to reassure upon that 
 point. But he felt, as her mother would say, " all 
 that she was giving up." It was true, she had 
 chosen for the ideal life, and that this choice must 
 always be well. But was he strong enough to give 
 it to her? The fact, so obvious to the Major, that 
 she was simply in love with him, lay well in the back 
 ground. And on coming to the hotel the first thing 
 he asked for and found was a note from Miss Som- 
 ers. It had been brought by a messenger in the 
 ordinary way, and was as follows : 
 
 " I have received your telegram, and shall be at home 
 at eleven this morning. 
 
 " DOROTHY." 
 
 The Major walked with him to the house and 
 waited outside with a sheaf of his telegrams in leash. 
 
 VII 
 
 HOW can biography be an exact science? Who 
 knows enough of anybody else, who is not 
 a Frenchman, or a Russian girl, to write the life of 
 him? Is a man s life (a woman is more cognizant) 
 
 33
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 known even to himself? Shall not we, all but the 
 Puritans, go to the last trump as uncertain of the 
 Judgment as of a woman s favor? Yet a man knows 
 the events, the acts and sayings of his career, though 
 rarely the motives which influenced them, his own 
 or those of others ; his own acts which result come 
 to him frequently enough with surprise. He sees 
 himself do it as he sits on his horse and sees it take 
 a fence. 
 
 The imaginary biographer is supposed to know 
 it all ; and yet the conventions of English fiction 
 are against his telling it. Under this rule the 
 epochal moments of a man s life are nearly all un- 
 tellable. The touch of the hot face, the kiss given 
 in a passion of tears, determined their lives ; yet 
 my gentlest reader may not yet have forgiven to 
 me her knowledge of it, though Major Brandon had 
 grasped the fact without an intimation. 
 
 Pinckney s memory always was that he went into 
 the house that morning with a matured mind, the 
 Major s plans all at his finger ends, the course of 
 action (if any was to be taken) coldly blocked out. 
 First, it was for her to decide; despite all his love, 
 he would not urge. If she wished, the kiss should 
 be as if it never had happened. But Miss Somers 
 came to the door herself; and before they had en 
 tered the dark drawing-room her figure was clasped 
 
 34
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 closely and her lips drawn up to his. So much must 
 be told the reader; for the reader must know all. 
 What the Major learned was only this: That she had 
 simply told her mother that she wished to be in alone 
 to see him, Pinckney, and then had sent the butler on 
 an errand and dispensed with the maid s attendance. 
 It appeared that she had even mentioned, to her 
 mother, his name. Daisy was at school. Except 
 for just the things that Austin did not mention 
 (and which perhaps the Major s imagination sup 
 plied), her conduct was that of the ideal grande 
 dcnne, which the Major roundly declared her to be. 
 She chose to see him in her own house. She con 
 sented to the marriage taking place that very after 
 noon ; she had even considered the question of inform 
 ing her mother of her plans upon her mother s return 
 from shopping. (At that the Major gave a bound.) 
 She had only concluded not to do so in consideration 
 of her mother s peace of mind. As she, Miss Somers, 
 had quite determined to carry it through, it might be 
 best to do it as quietly as possible ; and, for quiet, Mrs 
 Somers could not, upon such short notice, be counted 
 on. She would wish at least for delay, she might 
 want to telegraph to Mr Gansevoort ; in short, Miss 
 Somers was quite convinced that her mother s peace 
 of mind would be best preserved by hearing of it 
 first as a fact accomplished and to which she was 
 
 35
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 not accomplice. She must then be told, of course, 
 at once. 
 
 " I ll tell her myself I ll do it to-night," said 
 the Major enthusiastically. 
 
 The Major had fought a duel in his day. 
 
 Then, went on Pinckney, she had called down 
 the stairs Miss Winifred Radnor and presented him 
 to her (whom, indeed, he had slightly known before) 
 somewhat in these words (Miss Radnor had been 
 there looking at the wedding presents) : " Winnie, 
 I am going to be married to Mr Pinckney this after 
 noon, and I want you to be my bridesmaid." 
 
 (" Splendid! " ejaculated the Major.) 
 
 Miss Radnor had shown considerable excitement 
 not unrningled with opposition ; but as she had been 
 Dorothy s most intimate friend, nearer than her 
 mother to the secrets of her heart, it had been sur 
 mounted. It was all arranged, and they were to 
 call with a carriage for the young ladies at six 
 o clock. 
 
 " At Miss Somers ? " said the Major. 
 
 " At Miss Radnor s." 
 
 The Major was off with his bundle of telegrams. 
 
 36
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 VIII 
 
 THEN Austin went back to the hotel to write 
 his letters. They were to be given to the 
 Major, after the ceremony, to be posted by him, and 
 were addressed, first, to his three married sisters in 
 Germany, the Baroness von Schroder of Wurtem- 
 berg, Grafin Marie von Stolzfeld, at Hanover, and 
 Madame von Pauli, the wife of an Austrian general. 
 He wrote, of course, to his old Aunt Emily who had 
 the Lenox house. ("I know her very well," the 
 Major said. It was a thing he said of all nice old 
 women, were it London or New York.) And he also 
 wrote to Mrs Arthur Shirley. 
 
 At two the Major returned and insisted on their 
 dining: green turtle and champagne he ordered, of 
 which latter he seemed in little need. The Major 
 looked twenty years younger. It seemed as if the 
 heart hunger of a lifetime were being filled. " It s 
 all right," he said ; " I ve seen everybody Father 
 Conynghame attends to the church, the judge ll have 
 the papers ready ; I ve ordered the flowers, got the 
 bishop and the railway seats ; my sister ll meet us in 
 Camden at the station, and I ve invited both the As 
 sociated Press correspondents and two or three fel 
 lows from the club to dinner. I ve just been to see 
 
 37
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Miss Radnor, and I ve promised to bring her home 
 by seven. She says it s splendid. Then I ll go and 
 see Mrs Somers and be ready to receive my guests 
 at the club at eight. In fact I ve asked several fel 
 lows at the club to meet us, and two, that I could 
 trust, to be ushers. It s all right," he concluded, to 
 Austin s start of surprise ; " they only know your 
 name as yet ; it s as sacred as a duel. Now you go 
 out and pass the time in getting a ring." 
 
 Pinckney afterward believed he would have for 
 gotten that. " Go to Caldwell s and mention my 
 name." It was lucky Major Brandon mentioned this 
 also. For our hero, thinking that economy would 
 best begin with their home, purchased not only a 
 wedding ring but a string of pearls. The stones 
 were not so large as in the triple rope that Ganse- 
 voort had sent her now to be returned but still 
 it was a string of pearls, and as such represented 
 about half a year s income. For it he gave his 
 check and the Major s reference and put the two 
 caskets in his pocket. It was, of course, unsafe to 
 send anything to the house. He had a horror of 
 taking anything from the house. By an old rule 
 of law a man who wed his wife " in her shift " took 
 her free of all her previous debts. It was only Doro 
 thy he wanted; their evasion (the Major vigorously 
 denied that it was an elopement), their sudden mar- 
 
 38
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 riage was justifiable only on the necessary ground 
 of pure emotion. All dross of earth his bride should 
 leave behind her; he took just her barely equipped 
 with her girlish belongings, free of past emotional 
 obligations. Nothing that appertained to her much- 
 advertised engagement, not even the trousseau given 
 by her mother, was to come. 
 
 The hour approached; it now was. Pinckney 
 was feverishly anxious; the Major was in no hurry, 
 calm with Napoleonic consciousness of battle planned 
 how completely planned, it did not dawn upon its 
 hero for some days afterward. Their carriage, a 
 modest hackney, stopped at the street corner; the 
 Major issued, to return forthwith with the two 
 young ladies. No baggage was loaded except a 
 pasteboard box which the Major opened on the 
 ferryboat; it contained two bouquets of roses and 
 four buttonhole gardenias, each of which was affixed 
 by a pearl scarf pin. At one of the bouquets was 
 pinned a locket of small pearls ; at the other (the 
 bride s) a cluster of five pearls to make the centre 
 of Austin s necklace. Had Pinckney known it, the 
 centre stone was finer than any of the Gansevoort 
 string. It is possible that the Major for the mo 
 ment was the happiest person of the four. Gener 
 ally speaking, at a wedding, the groom drives to the 
 church with the best man, the bride with him who 
 
 39
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 is to give her away ; afterwards the bride and groom 
 drive away together. The Major (who has, however, 
 tried but two of these three places) has assured 
 me that the second is the best. But he had feared 
 the processional effect of two carriages in Camden, 
 and they were all together. The bride was undemon- 
 stratively, Austin joyfully, Miss Radnor excitedly, 
 silent. Only the Major talked. 
 
 It was dusk when they landed and drove to Judge 
 Gallison s office. Here the two principals had to 
 comply with the unexacting formalities of Jersey 
 law. Austin always remembered the large office or 
 Judge s chambers, considerately dark, with only the 
 very oldest and red-tapest of clerks; the jovial judi 
 cial magnate, himself in wedding garb, who began 
 by congratulating them on what they were about 
 to do, who afterward, in a separate carriage (into 
 which he was careful to invite the two young ladies), 
 accompanied them to the church ceremony. " I am 
 to give her away, you know knew her father all 
 his life " Judge Gallison had never before heard 
 of the gentleman alluded to leaving the Major, a 
 little crestfallen, to go alone with the bridegroom. 
 
 However, the drive was none too short for the 
 Major to give to Austin his directions. They were 
 to go, of all places, to Atlantic City that night 
 (" If you can t have real solitude, the next best 
 
 40
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 thing is a vulgar crowd they d look at you at New 
 port, but they see too many weddings at Atlantic 
 City"), whither the luggage had already been ex 
 pressed. (" To-morrow s newspapers will be down 
 with the right story, but before they find you, you ll 
 be off to Lenox.") They would find their rooms all 
 ready at the best large hotel, under the names of 
 Mr and Mrs Pinckney. (" Would be a great error 
 to show any attempt at concealment fortunately, 
 your name is quite unknown in Philadelphia.") On 
 the morrow, a competent lady s maid would arrive. 
 
 The carriage stopped at the church. The 
 bride s party had already entered; but in the vesti 
 bule Austin was introduced to a dear young Quaker 
 lady of sixty as the Major s sister; then to two 
 elegant young gentlemen already vested in the 
 usher s pin. " Mr Riddle, Austin, of Philadelphia ; 
 Mr Schermerhorn of New York, I think you know." 
 Austin did know him as a personage whose presence 
 lent social sanction to almost anything and now he 
 remembered it one who had figured rather promi 
 nently in a club dispute with Petrus Gansevoort. 
 (Had he known it, Dallas Riddle also, a beau of ris 
 ing forty, had offered himself to Miss Somers at 
 a last winter s ball.) 
 
 " The Bishop of Appalachia " Austin bowed 
 deeply to a benevolent, well-nurtured High Church- 
 4 41
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 man the metropolitan of Philadelphia was, at that 
 period, Low. " Father Conynghame " Austin 
 grasped the hand of an emaciated enthusiast, with 
 a gaunt face and a burning eye. The peal of an 
 organ then startled him, and his best man hurried 
 him to the chancel door. 
 
 The Major hurried him on with no time for re 
 flection. One never does reflect on these momentous 
 occasions. With the two ushers before them, the 
 Maj or led him out amid the first triplets of Mendels 
 sohn and a mighty rustling caused by the rising 
 congregation. 
 
 To our hero s amazement, the church was full of 
 people. It was done as if prearranged. The Major 
 afterward admitted (to the Judge) that " the 
 house " was " paper." And then, when all was over, 
 when the carriages had all left, the Major drove 
 back alone to meet Mrs Somers. 
 
 IX 
 
 A CLEVER Yankee girl once averted compas 
 sion for marrying and going to live in a 
 remote Western town by remarking that the first 
 year she would be too much in love to care where 
 they were, and in a second year she should be used 
 
 42
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 to anywhere. Austin never again went to Atlantic 
 City. The long board walk, lined with cheap raree- 
 shows, the flat and noisy ocean, passed like an un 
 heeded panorama upon his world of will. Schopen 
 hauer, having none, gives no marvelous analysis to 
 the subjective state of humor; but though they had 
 two long board walks together, emotion overshad 
 owed even Austin s humorous apperception ; and his 
 bride had none. 
 
 The novelist who would write of the day after 
 the marriage must shed ink like a cuttle-fish: so a 
 Browning could envelop the theme in inky metre, 
 a Meredith in turgid prose. English letters scream 
 at life s essentials. The Frenchman s hero is self- 
 conscious even in his caresses, to such as he pas 
 sion is never pure; to an American it is; but just 
 for that your Frenchman makes an art of love. In 
 nocence shrinks at non-essentials, body is undemon- 
 strable, while the blushing face is unveiled to your 
 scrutiny. The Mohammedan veils the face only ; to 
 the real master of sensuousness, personality, not per 
 son, is the ultimate. Our Puritan inversion reverses 
 the nature of things, deifies the body by withholding 
 simple knowledge of it, overemphasizes it, ignores 
 the soul. The bourgeois customs emphasize the 
 physical surrender which, more innocently, had been 
 a forgotten episode. The Greeks reverenced the
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 human form and were not troubled by it ; the higher 
 lover s progress should be from body to the soul. 
 It is a vulgarity that accentuates a situation that 
 should be natural, gradual, holy (for the normal of 
 the world is holy, else are we apes, indeed) holy 
 as the opening of flowers. So the first day of honey 
 moon may be one of stormy doubt, of shock and 
 question. This tradition hath monkish coarseness 
 bequeathed to protestant prudery. Since Daphnis 
 and Chloe became sinful to our monkish modes, there 
 is no chance for better, save for the satyr a thing 
 the sensualist has learned to profit by ; it is your 
 rake who manages susceptibilities, reconciles to 
 Sex; most signally if any be after all of tempera 
 ment to be won this way, a thought, as the poet 
 said, to show one shapes of night at loftiest noon. 
 Your gentleman, Parsifal-pure, at best may have 
 his chance to hold, by very contrast, the young 
 Faustine; he may fail with Seraphita. For Parsi 
 fal, no pity knowing, hath killed the swan, Parsifal 
 the pure ; to a Tristan, wedding matters little ; and 
 they kissed first. It was this kiss shrived them. 
 Or how is the great circle better? Burning in the 
 calm that warns of storm, a painted ship upon a 
 painted ocean ; an ancient mariner s chart to young 
 lovers, the alternative is impossible. When Tristan 
 sailed Iseult from Ireland, his course was straight. 
 
 44
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 No fears for either till the kiss had come ; but will 
 it last a lifetime? Then is there no sin. But who 
 can tell? theirs lasted well till death. Dorothy had 
 had our hero s kiss; no chaliced potion could have 
 been more potent, no Brangoena certainer to turn 
 the world. 
 
 But now that day, that doubting day, had 
 passed. Happiness now the Bird with oily breast 
 sleeps, for our Tristan, on the wave of Tintagel. 
 Yes, happiness now. The halcyon morn is early to 
 be so fine no mists upon the mountain tops, the 
 warm sun bright at the heart. The cobwebs at one s 
 feet are swept away; they never were; no thought 
 for the morrow, not even for the evening. The 
 stormy unrest was short; that agony of joy, trou 
 bling to the memory, soon forgotten ; the shock of day 
 light soon strengthens the eyes, softens the light to 
 steady calm. A day of doubt, a night of journey 
 and it is the dreamy Berkshire hills, the whole 
 some swelling of the earth, the gold witch-hazel s 
 guerdon of the coming spring, the leafage scarlet 
 with fruition, the brown earth plowed for future 
 harvest, and God is with the World. 
 
 45
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 THE morning lay over the Lenox valley. A 
 week had gone by since their wedding. Aus 
 tin and Dorothy were in the house their kindly 
 aunt had left for them; and just as the sun rose 
 above the eastern woods our hero came out upon 
 the lawn and ran, like a boy, down the steep-shaven 
 slope. But the face was a man s: the Major, had 
 he seen it then, would have noticed a change. With 
 all the brightness of youth his lips had the firmness, 
 his eyes had now the repose, of man s estate. No 
 longer questioning of the world, no more self-con 
 scious than the West Wind, he ran for very joy 
 of life, chasing the squirrels, scattering the red 
 apples, conscious unconsciously of all happiness and 
 loveliness, hardly more so than the bee that left the 
 tall foxglove at his feet and buzzed into the brown 
 sunlight, golden with the pollen. The secret of the 
 world was his ; he was wise with the wisdom that 
 should never be lost, forgotten by the middle years, 
 envied by the elders. But a moment he played 
 about ; then, as a shutter opened in the house, he 
 made for it, as the bee for its hive. For his wife, 
 from the open window, called to him. In a moment 
 she was at his side. 
 
 46
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 They joined hands and raced down the hill. In 
 her muslin morning gown, clinging to her young 
 figure, she yet ran like an Atalanta. Dorothy, too, 
 was changed, and for the better; a warm flush was 
 in the ivory-white face, the cheek was fuller, the 
 eyes two very wells of velvet black. Almost a typi 
 cal American beauty, there was something Spanish 
 in the type, not unusual with us. The morning was 
 warm enough for them to sit in a garden seat be 
 neath the golden beech leaves. " Dorothy," said he 
 (his arm was at her waist), " Dorothy " (he said it 
 like a prayer), " I ve a letter from Major Brandon, 
 dear old fellow ! " 
 
 "A letter? Oh, let me see it " 
 
 " A letter and a package of newspapers." 
 Dorothy clapped her hands. " Oh, what do 
 they say? I have been so afraid what they might 
 say of us what do people think of me? " She had 
 never spoken to him before of this anxiety, and the 
 thought crossed his mind then that it had been nice 
 of her. They knew that the Major had fulfilled his 
 promise and seen Mrs Somers ; for from that lady 
 they had had a letter. But with newspapers they 
 had not yet been troubled. 
 
 " Let s read the letter first," said Austin. 
 It was very short and satisfactory. " I have 
 seen Mrs Somers again," the Major wrote, " and 
 
 47
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 she agrees with me that she should come to you at 
 once. I cannot honestly tell you that she is yet rec 
 onciled to the match ; but she will play her part, at 
 least in public ; she requires a little schooling. So 
 you may expect her on to-morrow s train. She 
 seems to expect that you are living in a tent, or a 
 cave, and is waiting until her maid returns. It 
 might be well to receive her with some display. 
 Yours always," etc. 
 
 Austin laughed. " I ll send Wallace with my 
 aunt s best horses." He went on, reading : " P.S. 
 Mrs Pinckney had better meet her alone, at first, 
 and let her have her cry out. Humph ! " 
 
 But Dorothy only laughed. " Let s see the 
 papers." There was quite a bundle of them, New 
 York and Philadelphia, and all carefully marked by 
 the Major. Their comments reflected credit at once 
 upon his imagination and his tact. After all the 
 one quality depends subtly on the other. The Ma 
 jor s dinner to the two influential correspondents 
 had evidently done its work. From all accounts of 
 the wedding, you would have inferred rather the 
 keeping of an old promise than the breaking of a 
 new. " Miss Dorothy Somers, whose engagement 
 to Mr Gansevoort, of New York, had been recently 
 reported, was married to-day " (the more lively 
 journals had it, " with much eclat ") " to Charles 
 
 48
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Austin Pinckney, a young lawyer of New York. It 
 is believed to have been quite a romance; the bride 
 groom made the young lady s acquaintance some 
 years since in Germany. A tacit engagement was 
 contracted between them at that time, and the 
 rumor of his fiancee s engagement to Mr Ganse- 
 voort coming to him at a time when domestic duties 
 required his presence in Germany (Mr Pinckney s 
 father will be remembered as our late Consul in 
 Carlsruhe), it might well have discouraged our hopes 
 of a less earnest suitor. Mr Pinckney, however, 
 took one of the first steamers for America, where 
 all was happily explained." It will be seen that in 
 this explanation Mr Gansevoort s situation was, 
 with delicacy, left out entirely. Several of the 
 papers entitled it, " Romance in High Life " ; one 
 even went so far as to caption it, " True to Her 
 First Love." A New York society journal of a 
 literary tendency made a story of it, " Hearts 
 against Diamonds." The Gansevoort tiara was 
 famous. But the graver journals preferred the 
 form, " Miss Dorothy Somers, whose engagement to 
 Mr. Petrus Gansevoort was recently canceled, was 
 married yesterday, from her home in Philadelphia, 
 at Trinity Church, Camden, New Jersey, by the 
 Bishop of Appalachia, assisted by the Rev. Father 
 Conynghame, in the presence of a brilliant com- 
 
 49
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 pany," etc., etc. "Major Gervaise Brandon," it 
 was because the Major s name was Gervaise that he 
 was invariably called Tom " of New York, was 
 best man ; the bridesmaid, Miss Winifred Radnor ; 
 the ushers, Messrs. Dallas Riddle, of Philadelphia, 
 and Schuyler Schermerhorn, of New York. The 
 happy couple will spend the honeymoon in the house 
 of Miss Emily Austin, at Lenox, Mass., an aunt of 
 the groom, before making a trip to Europe. The 
 presents, said to be numerous and costly, were not 
 shown 
 
 "A trip to Europe?" 
 
 " Would you like to go ? " But Dorothy evaded 
 the question ; and nothing more, that was spoken, 
 passed between them for the time. The day (a most 
 glorious one) was passed in riding in the woods, 
 and this day, by our hero, was never forgotten. 
 Not the too melodramatic excitement of the wed 
 ding day ; not the Franccsca-like kiss of wooing ; 
 far less the delirium of the twenty-four hours fol 
 lowing the wedding (what man ever remembers 
 them?) had half the memorable quality, a tithe of 
 the pure human bliss, that gilded those life-climax 
 making hours in the brown mountain woods. Wheth 
 er it was that his anxieties were lulled, his fears that 
 he had embroiled Dorothy with her family set 
 at rest, or whether the peace of the usual human 
 
 50
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 relation stilled his soul; or whether his heart was 
 subtly conscious that his rash experiment had really 
 brought the woman love this girl who cantered by 
 his side, her hair unbound for his pleasure and cov 
 ering his eyes with warm night as he leaned from 
 his horse to kiss her parted lips. The world was 
 right, their love was right ; it was right that he 
 should be the father of her child. The horses 
 seemed to feel it too : it was strange how his own, a 
 spirited over-fed thoroughbred, insufficiently exer 
 cised by his old aunt s grooms, who had pulled his 
 forearm to a cramp as they rode apart upon the 
 high road, so that he even dashed ahead of her and 
 the village boys turned round to watch the runa 
 way when they came to the woods and none could 
 see them, and Austin, thinking little of his horse, 
 half dropped the curb to bend back to the girl, to 
 call her to his side, changing reins to pass his left 
 arm under hers, pressing her full young form, 
 seized not the bit as he slackened, but came to a 
 walk, close beside her quieter mare. So side by side 
 they walked, and his kisses fell almost as thick upon 
 her as the dropping leaves. 
 
 They stopped in some country village, far over 
 the mountain in New York, for food or to rest 
 the horses ; but shunning the village inns themselves, 
 they walked by a mountain stream which made black 
 
 51
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 pools and silvery plunges beneath the scarlet maple 
 and yellow chestnut and birch. They rode home 
 slower, in the afternoon with tired horses ; only as 
 the sun sank beyond Yokum s Seat did their horses 
 hoofs ring slowly on the pavement of the stable- 
 yard. Then their day of love ended and they must 
 face the world. 
 
 The world, for the moment, was personified in 
 Mrs Somers, and at five o clock Dorothy, in the 
 finest carriage in the stable, started to drive for 
 her mother to the nearest railway station. But 
 Dorothy was still in the highest of spirits ; this 
 young lady evidently did not hold her mother in 
 much awe. Austin, left at home, was graver. He 
 sat down to write his answer to the Major, before 
 she arrived ; it seemed the better taste not to have 
 to refer, even to the Major, to the domestic experi 
 ences of his new family circle. As he wrote, he 
 caught himself envying the easy cheerfulness with 
 which the Major had contemplated his first inter 
 view with Mrs Somers. 
 
 That lady arrived, somewhat tearful and very 
 tired, at half-past six, and demanded instantly to 
 be shown to her room. Both Dorothy and Austin 
 omitted any presentation of him to her ; he had seen 
 her several times the year before, at Baden-Baden ; 
 the son-in-law relation was at once assumed. He 
 
 52
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 thanked her for having intelligence enough to ac 
 cept it. As she allowed him to take her hand, 
 " You must forgive me," he said, " I loved her so." 
 Mrs Somers only remarked that the train had been 
 very hot and she was very tired, and that her mind 
 was disquieted as to the hour when her trunks would 
 come. " We can easily put dinner off an hour," said 
 Austin. It was rather a master stroke. Mrs Som 
 ers looked covertly about the house; the footman 
 was unexceptional ; he betokened full dress. " Sure 
 ly you don t expect anyone to dinner to-night? " 
 said she. 
 
 The question suggested to our hero the wish 
 that he had thought of it ; but he only replied in 
 the negative. " We thought of asking the Van 
 Courtlandts to-morrow ; they are old friends, I be 
 lieve; but no one is coming to-night." 
 
 Austin was lady s maid to his young wife that 
 night ; perhaps it was fortunate that the dinner 
 was put off; and he made her wear all her pearls. 
 For with his own had come later two duplicates 
 from the Major, making a strand of three like the 
 lost Gansevoort offering. The dinner was excellent. 
 
 " You really must go to Europe first," said Mrs 
 Somers in the evening. " I really couldn t bear it, 
 for a few months." 
 
 And that was all. 
 
 53
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 XI 
 
 BUT first Austin took his bride to Cambridge. 
 The trip to Europe was impossible, for all 
 Pinckney s ambitions were now multiplied tenfold. 
 If it had seemed before that only the highest places 
 in his profession were worth his life, it was tenfold 
 more true now that his end, whatever it be, must 
 be made worthy of her as well. He had money 
 enough to live upon, meanwhile ; and the foundation 
 could be none too carefully laid that was to carry 
 him to the Supreme Court of the United States, that 
 highest of tribunes in the world or to the Court 
 of St. James s, if haply she should prefer. As a 
 road to wealth, the law was not so much in his mind ; 
 indeed it was not so well-trodden a path in those 
 days as it has since become. 
 
 They took a little wooden house on one of the 
 shaded eminences that Cambridge dignifies with the 
 name of hill. They kept but two servants ; and while 
 Austin was absent at his law lectures, Mrs Pinckney 
 was kept busy with the housekeeping. Of this es 
 sential art of life she knew absolutely nothing, Mrs 
 Somers having brought her up to know only the 
 arts she deemed necessary to a brilliant marriage. 
 Probably this made it all the more amusing to Doro- 
 
 54
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 thy, who had the Southern woman s readiness at 
 practical affairs without her laziness and tolerance 
 of petty imperfections, and a Northern woman s 
 understanding of the character of Yankee " help " 
 without her tendency to " nag." Her time was suf 
 ficiently diversified with society pleasures, for their 
 marriage had made more than a nine days wonder; 
 Mrs Shirley and other Boston relatives of our hero 
 made haste to welcome her and make much of the 
 Philadelphia beauty, who had not been tempted by 
 the largest hoard of those New York millions whose 
 existence Boston was already learning to resent. 
 
 Dorothy successfully resisted any inclination of 
 her mother to visit her that winter which was not 
 indeed difficult, as that gay widow was busy with 
 her balls and already preparing the debut of the 
 younger sister who should repair poor Dorothy s 
 failure promising in return a long visit for the 
 holidays. But the Major was an honored guest; 
 first of all to visit them, he stayed a fortnight in 
 the spare chamber without his valet, and threw him 
 self into the academic life and its doings in a man 
 ner which did equal honor to his head and heart. By 
 no means an unlettered man (indeed he used to won 
 der what sort of old age that jeunesse which de 
 lights only in the strength of a horse was going to 
 lay up for itself) he reveled in the novelty of meet- 
 
 55
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 ing authors and professors ; and, if he was not quite 
 so enthusiastic about their wives, he regarded them 
 with the highest respect. Of many of their daughters 
 he seemed to think that something might be made, 
 provided they were taken young enough. But most 
 of all he was enraptured with Dorothy herself. It 
 was so delightful (as he told Mrs Arthur Shirley) 
 to see a young lady growing in her home, fitting her 
 niche so perfectly, building about her, as a bird 
 its nest, her house and household. In such house 
 holds (the Major was then known to say) lay the 
 safety of America that was to come. He insisted 
 that Austin should go to his lectures just the same; 
 fortunately they came in the morning, usually be 
 fore the Major was up. In the afternoon there was 
 often daylight for a sleigh ride all together, and 
 when Austin had a leisure evening there was the 
 theatre in Boston ; at other times he would peg away 
 at his lecture notes, and Major Brandon would sit 
 and smoke and watch Dorothy busy herself about 
 household affairs. It was from this time the Major 
 learned to assert that there was poetry in a feather 
 duster, properly applied, daintily and deftly, its 
 owner standing tip-toe on a chair. For Dorothy, 
 finding the law indeed a jealous mistress, asserted 
 her wifely interest in the house, if not in the head. 
 The sense of possession delighted her. Though 
 
 56
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 they had but a year s lease and the house was fur 
 nished by the owner (according to stern Yankee 
 standards), their wedding presents and what they 
 had bought since were hers, and gave her pleasure 
 of a sort she had never felt in the more pretentious 
 possessions of her mother s home. 
 
 To the Major, who knew Boston almost as well 
 as he knew London, it was a time for taking up 
 past acquaintances. He was put down at the same 
 old club, and met the same old people, too often 
 with a pang caused by the too obvious, in their 
 cases, irreparable outrage of the years. A cosmo 
 politan existence, after all, conduces to youth ; 
 though possibly one s toes must suffer for the more 
 youthful face. After all, his best hours were passed 
 at the little house in Cambridge. 
 
 Austin was acquiring an enthusiasm for John 
 Marshall, the father of our Constitution ; and the 
 Major thoroughly approved his doing so. " There 
 is a man ! " Austin would say ; " there is a career ! 
 to make a nation of one s own brains ! to lead an 
 intellectual life that was also one of the highest 
 patriotism ! " Austin swore he would pass the long 
 vacation in writing the life of Marshall, and the 
 Major, having learned that Marshall was a man who 
 had become Chief Justice of the United States, ap 
 plauded. (This life remains unwritten ; for later, 
 5 57
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 in the summer, came the plan of taking his young 
 wife by canoe to the rivers of Canada, and later, in 
 the winter, came the baby.) The Major went 
 with them to several dinners, not only in Boston but 
 in Cambridge, dinners which delighted him, though 
 he wished the living had been plainer. Their house 
 was just about an arm s length from a dozen 
 neighbors , each fronting or siding upon a neigh 
 bor s back yard (one wonders when we shall learn 
 to be suburban in blocks, and be done with it and 
 so get space for real gardens, and tennis grounds 
 between, and hang our clean linen in a common 
 secret place). In the rear was a little garden with 
 a walk rimmed in ancient but still-struggling box 
 a box that had incorrigibly put forth its leaves for 
 pleasure through many Puritan winters : and the 
 Major, on sunny days, would walk and smoke his 
 cigar there, thinking of his good talk of the night 
 before. Knowledge of the world is never at a loss 
 with a knowledge of books, though sometimes it is 
 the other way about ; and he felt pleasantly con 
 scious of having carried with him to the entertain 
 ment his fair share. " Call it provincial ! " he wrote 
 a friend " why, it s one of the market-places of 
 the world s intelligence ! " " They know the world 
 in a far more real way than I they know the 
 Cabinet ministers, thinkers, fellers that are doin 
 
 58
 
 things " he said to Dorothy " they live just as 
 we do, only more sensibly and I don t suppose 
 we ve met a man who spends more than ten thousand 
 a year ! " 
 
 Austin contracted a friendship with Wentworth, 
 a member of his class in the law school and brought 
 him to the house. Wentworth adored Austin, but 
 they used to have the fiercest arguments upon 
 points of law. " When I mail a letter accepting 
 your offer, have I made a contract? If so, can I 
 telegraph you withdrawing the acceptance? If so, 
 you are bound, and I am not bound " That in 
 variably happens when you write a love letter," the 
 Major would interpolate. " The only thing is, if 
 she has your letters, to make sure you have her 
 kisses!" But the Major was frowned down and 
 turned to Dorothy, who understood him. " A 
 woman s kisses are hostages given for her good 
 faith." Much time was given by them to this com 
 plex question (the mailing of the letter, we mean) ; 
 they conceived it would be of infinite use to them 
 in after-life. Markoff, another student, used rather 
 to make fun of these questions ; he even doubted 
 whether the New York courts would much concern 
 themselves over the great distinction between con 
 tracts that were unilateral and those which were 
 bilateral; a brilliant person, but erratic, whose 
 
 59
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 marks rose sometimes to a hundred and then sank 
 to the danger line. Markoff came from Iowa, but 
 he also meant to practise in the city of New York. 
 He never mentioned his family, though no one was 
 antisemite at Cambridge ; in reality he had been 
 born in Iowa, though his father, Markovsky, had 
 been a Russian Jew who had made a competency 
 out of a Keokuk dry goods store. Markoff had 
 left the business to his brothers and taken his share, 
 with a liberal discount, in cash. A very few months 
 in Chicago (it was 1882) had convinced him that a 
 lawyer s fees came from New York ; it was a greater 
 proof of his intelligence that a very few months in 
 a Wall Street law office had convinced him that the 
 best avenue of approach even to New York prac 
 tice of the kind he only wanted lay through the 
 Harvard Law School. So there he had appeared, 
 dropping the sky on the way ; his type of face was 
 too European to call himself Hamilton or Ruther 
 ford as his congeners so often do ; but he gave his 
 address New York, and dressed as a New Yorker ; 
 he had learned the art there. But Markoff cared 
 nothing for John Marshall ; he wished to be, not a 
 jurist, but a millionaire; and he wished to spend his 
 million } r oung. The subtleties of the Dane Law 
 School impressed his mind as idle casuistry, but he 
 valued its introductions. After the Major left, he 
 
 60
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 came to the house more frequently. He never could 
 get on with the Major. 
 
 For the Christmas vacation they went to Phila 
 delphia ; here the open reconciliation with Mrs Som- 
 ers took place, and the bridal couple were pro 
 duced at the more important balls. Philadel 
 phia was charming to them. To begin with, it does 
 not care for money, and it does care for South 
 Carolina Pinckneys; then it secretly enjoyed Mrs 
 Somers disappointment; finally, they were young 
 and handsome and the old ladies liked to see them 
 together. The men, to Pinckney, were most friend 
 ly ; and Dorothy had never been so popular ; while 
 the ushers and other men who had been bidden to 
 the Camden wedding made a little bodyguard to see 
 that Mrs Pinckney lacked no favors and had always 
 a suitor waiting while she danced. For the world is 
 a kind world to those who take it simply, after all. 
 And they had taken it in the simplest fashion get 
 ting wed. 
 
 XII 
 
 THE few who have really found out the delights 
 of canoe voyaging do not boast of their good 
 fortune. The haunts they have discovered must be 
 told to few (and those few feminine), or, at most, 
 
 61
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 shared with a brother canoeist. But you may know 
 them, in May, by their look of Arcady ; all day they 
 go to and fro, busying themselves in cities with their 
 affairs, lost daisies in their eyes. Your angler too 
 is uneasy, but (with or without his basket) he is 
 bent upon material gain. He is after the brooks 
 for what he can get there; something of the coarser 
 shine of avarice is in his eyes. But the canoe voy 
 ager has the dreamy look of one who has been kissed 
 upon the lips by a woodland nymph and forgotten 
 just where it happened. 
 
 For the canoe takes you " by still rivers and soli 
 tary mere, and where the water brook delivers [this 
 avoid] its waters to the weir " ; behind the villages, 
 at their back doors, where they touch nature, and 
 reveal their life; from town to town by the unknown 
 way ; untrodden these two centuries, with fine moss- 
 grown streets of crowfoot and meadow rue; a silent 
 road, for all noise of axle, wheel, or cog, voiceless 
 of steam, but full of the voice of all things else. 
 If you meet the natives, they take you simply: chil 
 dren first, then women (always the easier road to 
 their hearts). You learn no formal front from the 
 river, but the back-yard, the true forum of domestic 
 activity ; you learn what they eat, and wear, and 
 what they think ; you eat of their new-laid eggs and 
 sleep (if they will let you) in their haylofts; you 
 
 62
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 talk with Mother of the girls, with the girls of the 
 boys, with Father, in his shirt sleeves, of the well- 
 being of your common country, yourself not too 
 formally clad in flannels and bare sun-burned arms. 
 
 Austin had canoed in England, in Lorraine, and 
 in the Netherlands ; New England rivers were new 
 to him ; but he sought to inspire Dorothy with a 
 sympathy for his enthusiasm for that sweetest, most 
 individual, most personal of sports ; a yachting which 
 depends not on millions, but on the person ; which 
 requires, not the labor and the company of a dozen 
 hired men, but only a sound heart, a healthy body, 
 and a full mind. It was just the thing for them 
 that summer: to keep them alone together, yet give 
 them the joys of travel and outdoors. He took 
 advice, and got a canvas canoe built for him in Old- 
 town, Maine ; a seventeen-footer, roomy enough for 
 cruising, able to carry four without baggage. In 
 this they had their daily outing on the Charles River, 
 watching the college eights behind the houses on 
 Beacon Street, or pushing up the tidal stream to 
 Watertown, where the country river trickles over the 
 last dam to find itself at sea. 
 
 Wentworth was sometimes with them on their 
 trips ; he was a sturdy, fair-haired lad from New 
 Hampshire, with sensitive blue eyes. One day in 
 June they were emboldened for a Viking s voyage, 
 
 63
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 nothing less than to paddle down the harbor on a 
 still day and dine at Taft s. For that famous hos 
 telry was still running; it was (as all the world 
 then knew) upon a point near Shirley Gut, through 
 which deep, tortuous tide channel, the story runs, a 
 Yankee frigate once escaped a British cruiser. Out 
 side it was the sea, with real surf upon a beach 
 upon this occasion he invited Markoff, as a passen 
 ger ; Wentworth, an athlete and a skilled canoeist, 
 taking the stern paddle, Dorothy on the bottom fac 
 ing him, her back upon a cane rest against the 
 thwart, while Austin, slenderer, took the bow, Mar 
 koff on the bench behind him. 
 
 They had much fun and some difficulty in get 
 ting under the many pile bridges that, spider-like, 
 connect Boston with the mainland, railway bridges 
 most of them, making it not too clean a job. And 
 when they swung out, past the navy yard, by the 
 ocean liners at East Boston, a smart short sea met 
 them, making the light bow dance wildly. Markoff 
 wanted to turn back, and whispered to Austin ; dip 
 ping his paddle to hold the bow up, he looked around ; 
 as he did so a swash of salt water came over the side, 
 wetting Dorothy s light gown. " Is it too much, 
 do you think ? " 
 
 " Nonsense," said Wentworth, laughing up at 
 her as he swung the stern around in a strong curved 
 
 64
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 stroke, " we ll do it splendidly ! Shan t we, Mrs 
 Pinckney ? " 
 
 " I think it s great fun," said Dorothy ; and 
 Markoff said no more. But coming back even Went- 
 worth suggested that she should return by train ; a 
 strong east wind had set in after sunset and the 
 bridges were not too easy in the dark. 
 
 " I ll take her back, with Markoff." 
 
 " I ll go with you," Austin said ; but Wentworth 
 answered that was nonsense. 
 
 " He ll do well enough at bow, before the wind. 
 You take Mrs Pinckney home." So Austin and his 
 wife were driven in the evening along the beach to 
 the nearest railway ; their dinner had been excellent, 
 and a large moon rose out of the unbroken sea line 
 to the east. They laughed a little at Markoff, 
 talked a word of praise for Wentworth, and then, 
 happiest of all themes, of themselves. 
 
 But that same full moon brought a tide that 
 made the others some trouble. Wentworth never 
 said a word; but Markoff told them afterwards that 
 they had to lie on their backs under the bridges, were 
 nearly capsized in the dark, and that it was after 
 midnight when they got the canoe to Cambridge. 
 Markoff abhorred personal discomfort. 
 
 Bromidon ! It is a stream, a lost river, never 
 65
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 to be seen again of men. For many years Austin 
 remembered it I wonder if he remembers it now? 
 He stoutly asserted always that it emptied into the 
 Connecticut ; out of which more commonplace river 
 they were lured one late June morning by what curvo 
 of lily-fringed lower beach, by what sheen of mist 
 or sparkle of mountain, he never could describe. 
 Then there was a foaming rapid, below a fall, above 
 which the peace of the river lay for many miles. The 
 northern pastures still were a riot of the May : the 
 yellow pollen dust lay on the water, like moss upon 
 black marble; the lower forest glades were lit with 
 red azalea, the pathways with wild rose, the air they 
 breathed was laden, sweet as the breath of a young 
 girl you would kiss, with the sweetest of all odors, 
 the blossom of the wild grape. Bromidon ! 
 
 For many miles they explored this stream, that 
 comes down from the Delectable Mountains, in a land 
 that has no villages and yet is too tender to be wild ; 
 humanized with old wood roads and leveled pastures 
 and blooms that have their birth in gardens. All 
 the hours of that day they spent there, when they 
 should have been down the great river getting on 
 to Windsor or to Vernon or to Charlestown 
 Austin would never tell. 
 
 They had left Cambridge ten days before, the 
 moment the examinations were over. By still rivers 
 
 66
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Charles, Concord, Assabet they had reached the 
 swifter Nashua ; then there had been a day or two 
 upon the Merrimac, until it began to babble over 
 stones; then the railway had carried them to the 
 Connecticut, down which they were supposed to be 
 returning. But the most sweet hours are those 
 which one loses in this world. That day was given 
 to Bromidon. Above the meadows were the great 
 grave pines ; and above the pines came now and then 
 the azure shoulder of some purple mountain, mel 
 lowed to a russet red where outlines struck the sun. 
 When it sank, red and clear, they found the nearest 
 farmhouse. 
 
 XIII 
 
 THE morning came gray and doubtful, with a 
 blustering wind. Embarked on the great 
 river, they had to hurry to get to Bellows Falls 
 before the brewing storm. A strong spring flood 
 helped them, and a northeast wind; six miles an 
 hour are eas}^, done in such conditions. Dorothy 
 was evidently out of spirits ; she complained of not 
 feeling very well. Austin hurried and made a long 
 morning of it, digging his shoulder into the stroke; 
 but oftener and oftener the blade of the paddle was 
 needed in the water to steady the frail bark in a 
 
 67
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 swirl of foam or a gust of wind that hurried down 
 the rapid river. So they got to Bellows Falls by 
 two o clock, not stopping for any lunch ; it was well 
 they had it with them though, for " dinner " in the 
 cheerless country hotel was over and they were in 
 formed that the " help " had gone out for the after 
 noon and they could have nothing, not even tea, until 
 supper time at six o clock. So they ate their canoe 
 lunch upon a marble-topped table and Austin made 
 some tea upon the stove. 
 
 But Dorothy did not get any better that night 
 and Austin lay awake worrying about her. And 
 when he did fall asleep, toward morning, he was 
 awakened by the slightest sound from her, but to 
 him the most terrible. Dorothy was sobbing. He 
 sprang to kiss her, with loving solicitations. 
 
 By daylight it came out. It was not that she 
 was tired of the trip, but yes, she would like to go 
 back to Cambridge. Dorothy had never been alone 
 in her life before ; the cheerless, squalid hotel, the 
 stormy contact with nature There is a story of 
 a lady of society who for the first time crossing the 
 plains in a Pullman car pinned newspapers to all the 
 windows to keep out the prairies vastness. They 
 had been gone over a week and in all that time had 
 spoken with no soul they knew. " I think I should 
 like you better, Austin," Dorothy admitted, in an 
 
 68
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 engaging burst of frankness, " if I saw some other 
 people too." 
 
 They came back to Cambridge, where the canoe 
 was housed and Dorothy s trunks refitted, and then 
 sent to Bar Harbor. Austin barely gave a sigh at 
 the change of plans, but took advantage of the 
 opportunity to fill his own trunk with law books. 
 After all, Mount Desert would be a great place to 
 study. Dorothy went in to her dressmaker s, while 
 he stirred the dust of the library. At least, this was 
 what he supposed; but (it was only the second even 
 ing in Cambridge, the place was hot, and they were 
 to leave on the day after) his wife came home with 
 a changed face. She had complained of feeling un 
 well that morning, and Austin had begged her not 
 to go to town ; but she had persisted and he had 
 desisted, apprehensive of delay caused by dressmak 
 ing difficulties and very desirous of getting her into 
 the changed air of the Maine coast. The Cambridge 
 air was lifeless, and the place almost as lonely as 
 that dreadful hotel, memorable always to Austin as 
 the place where his wife had first cried. But to 
 night her pallor was alarming, and he began to scold. 
 
 " O Austin, I have not been to the dressmaker s ! " 
 she cried; "I have been to Dr. Byfield s." (Dr. 
 By field was the family physician, recommended by 
 Aunt Emily Austin.) " I I am going to have a 
 
 69
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 baby." Then she burst into tears. Austin flew to 
 her with his arms, and kissed her over and over again. 
 " Darling, oh, my darling," was all he could say ; 
 but he said it many, many times, between the kisses 
 that he smothered her with. He kissed her lips over 
 and over again, then her brow, where the wonderful 
 hair like burnished copper was penciled on the milk- 
 white flesh. " Oh, I am so glad we came back from 
 New Hampshire! Darling, you don t think it was 
 too much for you the river, I mean ? " 
 
 Dorothy shook her head. " If only we can go 
 to Bar Harbor just the same." The tears hung on 
 her eyelids, and he kissed them away. Then, his lips 
 still wet, he kissed her lips once more. His arms 
 were tight about her waist. " Don t dear, you 
 hurt " 
 
 Terrified with repentance, the youth sank upon 
 the great chair, his bride in his arms. He arranged 
 her, comfortably and tenderly, and sank upon his 
 knees before her. " Dorothy ! Dorothy, do look at 
 me ! I am so happy ! " 
 
 He drew her forward. She was in a white even 
 ing gown, half robe, half wrapper; and as she 
 leaned forward to look at him her burning face was 
 at his cheek. She turned it away, his lips following 
 until they touched hers. Suddenly she returned his 
 embrace, kissing him passionately, even as he took 
 
 70
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 his own lips away. Then she turned and looked 
 at herself a moment in the glass ; before draw 
 ing her wrapper close across her, she lifted her 
 elbows, clasping her hands behind her head, and 
 studied its reflection long and earnestly. Lovingly 
 she looked at herself; lovingly Austin looked 
 at her. 
 
 " O Austin, it is so soon ! You will not expect 
 me to nurse it, will you? " 
 
 XIV 
 
 IN January, the next year, their child was born ; and 
 it lived a day. Its dying made a dike in Austin s 
 nature as when volcanic lava fills a rift in granite, 
 hardened into permanence. Strangely enough (for 
 such things are thought to mean more for women) 
 Dorothy s nature seemed to absorb the wound. She 
 would not go into mourning for an unchristened 
 child: before the winter was over she was home in 
 Philadelphia, dancing at a ball with a figure slender 
 as any girl s, only the ripe roundness, the full shoul 
 der, for a girl to envy. 
 
 She was the rage that winter. Men were crazy 
 about her. She dressed richly and yet girlishly ; 
 the women said, too much. Yet her figure was so 
 
 71
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 childish that she might wear what another woman 
 could not. Her loose gown might fall away as from 
 a wood nymph or slip from one round shoulder: the 
 line of the white chest lay straight and pure, like 
 a child s. Artists asked to paint her: she was proud 
 of it. She wrote Austin only of her dances, and how 
 she enjoyed it. 
 
 Austin was thankful that she was so: the thing 
 was over, he set his teeth and worked the harder. He 
 did not go with her this time; it was his last year 
 in Cambridge and he meant to take high rank. He 
 had grown very fond of Wentworth: it was settled 
 that they were to go to New York together and 
 (if neither of them was so lucky as to get into a 
 great firm) they were to go into partnership. He 
 was happy, though, when Dorothy got back just 
 before Lent and their teas began. Wentworth and 
 Markoff were always present ; sometimes others of 
 the Law School men, even a professor or two ; Doro 
 thy held quite a little salon. 
 
 But one day Wentworth came to him and told 
 him that he had decided to give up going to New 
 York, and nothing that Austin could urge availed 
 to make him change his decision. " He had decided 
 that he was not fitted for the life of a great city. 
 One should be very sure of oneself very sure of 
 one s own abilities, to risk it. Otherwise it were bet- 
 
 72
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 ter contentedly to accept the leadership in some pro 
 vincial town." 
 
 Austin was seriously disappointed. He was not 
 heartbroken ; though the young New Englander s 
 friendship had become very dear to him. He begged 
 him again and again to reconsider his determination. 
 He reminded him how they had planned and plotted 
 to shape their careers almost to lead their lives to 
 gether. But Wentworth was adamant. " New York 
 was well enough for Austin he was sure to take the 
 leadership wherever he went; with his social connec 
 tions, he could seize the highest opportunities. But 
 he, Wentworth, he was fitted to be the plodding coun 
 try lawyer." 
 
 The matter was first broached by Wentworth at 
 the beginning of a long country walk. Still un 
 shaken by Austin s argument, he came to dinner, and 
 after it Austin returned to the charge in vain. 
 When Dorothy added her persuasions to his he 
 averted his eyes but answered in the same tenor. 
 Possibly he infused a shade more ambition into his 
 reasoning. " His political prospects were greater 
 at home " 
 
 " I see," laughed Austin. " After all, Daniel 
 
 Webster began at Portsmouth" and WentAvorth 
 
 joined in the laugh with obvious relief. Dorothy 
 
 said nothing more; and just then Markoff entered. 
 
 6 73
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 The examinations began shortly after this con 
 versation and Wcntworth hardly got to the house 
 again. Markoff continued an assiduous visitor. He 
 had always taken very high rank and all believed 
 that he would do so in the finals ; yet he alone seemed 
 always to have leisure. Austin was wrapped up in 
 his work, so much so that he hardly found time even 
 to urge Wentworth to alter his decision; that might 
 go until the examinations were over; for was it not 
 rumored that certain of the great New York firms 
 left a standing offer to receive as students one or 
 more new-fledged Harvard LL.B. s each year, selected 
 in the order of their rank? And this, to Austin, 
 meant the road to a possible partnership ; to Went 
 worth, a paid clerkship. Such a result might change 
 even his decision, which Austin could not but regard 
 as based on a sort of bashfulness. He was shy, 
 socially shy, before New York and what it repre 
 sented ; he could see it, even in his manner with Doro 
 thy. But Markoff found time to spend half his 
 evenings with them ; even, one night, to escort Mrs 
 Pinckney to a popular concert when Austin could 
 not go. Was not the examination in Equity Plead 
 ing the next morning? Austin sat up many hours 
 after they returned, with a wet towel around his 
 head; even hours after his wife had dismissed her 
 caller, gone to her room, returned in the sweetest of 
 
 74
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 laces and blue ribbons, her hair unbound, and then, 
 with a moue, gone back again. The birds were sing 
 ing in the twilight of the dawn when Austin tiptoed 
 gently through his wife s room, just brushing his 
 lips to hers as he passed, to his own little crib in 
 the alcove beyond. Dorothy threw one white arm 
 above her head and sighed; she did not wake up. 
 Since her recovery, she had insisted on having her 
 room alone; she had always had one as a girl, she 
 said; and Austin, of course, had yielded. The 
 Major was fond of saying that her sex were at their 
 best as slaves, she said with a laugh ; but even a slave 
 might be queen in her bedchamber! 
 
 When the result of the examinations was known, 
 Markoff led them all ; he graduated with special dis 
 tinction ; as we should now say, summa cum laude. 
 Wentworth and Austin both got honors, the latter 
 passing a bit the better of the two. " You see, I 
 am right," wrote Wentworth the following morning, 
 " and before you get this letter, I shall be back in 
 Springvale." To Mrs Pinckney he left a very large 
 sheaf of roses ; and Dorothy said he was " a nice 
 boy." But Markoff surprised them all by accepting 
 not the coveted studentship in the office of Gresham, 
 Daubeny, Radnor & Haviland but the paid office of 
 managing clerk with Hitchcock, Pratt & Auerbach. 
 " Why do you do it? " said Dorothy. 
 
 75
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Mrs Pinckney, as she spoke, was standing on the 
 third rung of a step-ladder dismounting pictures. 
 For the dismantling had come; the student life was 
 over. However brief the home, there is something 
 sad in the taking down of the household divinities: 
 the unhooking of the little pictures they meant so 
 much, when one put them up ! To be sure, one may 
 have grown used to them since the soft-eyed Ma 
 donna is only an engraving, the clouds of Monte 
 Rosa only photographed. Dorothy had no senti 
 ments about the little Cambridge house, and she 
 looked over her muslin straight as she spoke, at Mar- 
 koff, whom she had permitted, nay invited, to lounge 
 upon the sofa, while she worked. But as she had 
 looped up her pretty evening dress behind, so she had 
 caught up some of the floating muslin before, with 
 her mouth, to keep it from the dirt of the ladder ; 
 a hammer was in her right hand, a coil of picture 
 cord in her left, so that she half -mumbled the ques 
 tion, half-looked it to him with her eyes. Markoff 
 himself lolled on the sofa enjoying a rich cigar, and 
 looking through the smoke rings at her ecstatically. 
 " Why do you do it? " she said. 
 
 " I must have money," he said ; " I cannot afford 
 to wait. The world is not smoothed off before me, 
 like Austin s. I am not, like him, happily mar 
 ried " 
 
 76
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " And you must have the money in time to be," 
 Dorothy burst into silvery laughter. " It s very 
 foolish of you ! " 
 
 Markoff sighed as gently as he could. Dorothy 
 put her right foot on the rung above. Markoff 
 looked at it, and did not take his eyes off it, as an 
 other man might have done ; Dorothy had the dain 
 tiest of ankles, encased this evening in lavender 
 silk. " Now you had much better wait," Dorothy 
 went on. " You ll simply make the most awful mis 
 take if you don t ! Never marry young. Wait ten 
 years, and let me look out a girl for you, when 
 when 
 
 " When I can hope to pretend to the lady I 
 want," said Markoff grimly. But he did not take 
 his eyes from her ankle: her skirt swinging revealed, 
 now an inch more, now an inch less, of warm silken 
 roundness. 
 
 " Oh, I didn t mean that," said Dorothy abashed. 
 " Look out, I am coining ! " In an impulse of sym 
 pathy for having so belittled him, she stretched forth 
 her hands : Markoff sprang up to meet them, palm 
 to palm, and she sprang from the round of the lad 
 der, dropping hammer, cords, and muslin overdress. 
 But either he was not in time or he did not resist 
 enough ; she fell almost upon his shirt front and, for 
 one epochal second, he felt her soft body against his 
 
 77
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 own and he kissed her furtively, awkwardly, just 
 above the cheek bone; but he kissed her. 
 
 Dorothy sprang away as if he had been a snake. 
 Then first, he flushed. What her words had failed 
 to penetrate, her physical shrinking turned scarlet. 
 He cringed with an apology. But Dorothy, as she 
 believed, had been born a lady, and just then, to her 
 intense relief, she heard the street gate swing to 
 Austin s step. They did not alter their positions, 
 though Dorothy s lips curled a line the more as she 
 saw Markoff reach for his hat. " Forgive it," he 
 whispered to her again. " Forget it." The accent 
 made her shiver, as his glance had not. 
 
 " Austin," she said, " Mr Markoff has come to 
 say good-by to us." The words were simple enough, 
 but an angry look showed that MarkofF understood. 
 The usual speeches were interchanged. After he 
 had gone, Dorothy snuggled her arm under Austin s 
 shoulder. It was evident that his simplicity some 
 would say his nobility had suspected nothing; even 
 though Dorothy was conscious of being a bit hysteri 
 cal. " Austin, is Mr MarkofF a Jew? " 
 
 Austin looked surprised. " I don t know," he 
 said. " I never thought 
 
 " I don t like Jews, Austin. Austin, I don t 
 ever want to see him in New York." 
 
 78
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 XV 
 
 AUSTIN took the place that had been first 
 offered Markoff with Messrs Gresham, Dau- 
 beny, Radnor & Haviland; Dorothy (who was 
 again spending the summer at Bar Harbor) coming 
 to New York early in September to help him look 
 for an apartment. Austin had had to take up his 
 work in the office on the first of August, that month 
 being a vacation for all the firm-name partners, 
 though there were two or three young men, with 
 salaries contingent on the profits, who stayed in town 
 to manage the unavoidable business. And here the 
 first important disagreement that arose in their mar 
 ried life was settled in Austin s favor. For Doro 
 thy had inclined to a flat ; she had no fondness for 
 housekeeping, and needed all her strength for the 
 social relations she intended to establish ; moreover 
 you got more show for your money and in a flat you 
 could not be expected to entertain. And when they 
 set up a house, she was inwardly determined it should 
 be one of a dignity commensurate with her aspira 
 tions. Meantime they might appear as a charm 
 ing young married couple, romantically poor, the 
 more to be entertained by their friends ; and for two 
 persons of the names of Pinckney and Somers their 
 
 79
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 friends might be anybody. The best investment 
 they could meanwhile make of their little income was 
 not a brownstone front for their house, but many 
 satin, silk, and lace fronts for her own pretty figure. 
 This would come to be desired at dinner parties, and 
 Austin s brains would have their fair start. 
 
 But Dorothy did not venture on this line of 
 reasoning with her husband; and Austin, after 
 gloomily inspecting a few dozen flats, concluded that 
 life in any one of them must be necessarily and inher 
 ently vulgar, and at the last gave expression to his 
 invincible preference for his own rooftree and his 
 own front door. And it was Dorothy who had to 
 yield. 
 
 They found a quiet, roomy, dignified old house 
 on East Eleventh Street. The neighborhood had 
 been fashionable once, but the rush of the eighties 
 to the quarter known formerly as Judaea had shrunk 
 the rent of the Washington Square neighborhood 
 to within their means, that is, to within Austin s 
 six thousand a year, aided by what might dribble 
 through to him from the elder branches of his many- 
 headed law firm. Dorothy s mother had written her 
 that from now on she should allow her pin-money 
 of twenty-five hundred a year. Austin had been 
 delighted at the news ; Dorothy wondered if he ex 
 pected her to devote any part of it to the household 
 
 80
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 expenses. Perhaps she was secretly apprehensive 
 that he might ask her for it. But it never reached 
 beyond the pins. 
 
 For absolute leisure, there has probably (outside 
 the harem) been nothing in the social history of 
 humanity approaching the leisure of the fashionable 
 New York woman, married and childless, particu 
 larly before her fashionable position has been fully 
 established. It is peculiarly so in New York: be 
 cause in no city elsewhere in the world have the 
 leisured classes so little root in the soil. Something 
 of the Hebrew detachment from all surroundings 
 seems to have cast the mould of civic character for 
 our great city ; its curious lack of general public 
 spirit, evident even to outsiders ; its want of munici 
 pal solidarity, of social coordination. Even the 
 forcing-house of municipal corruption had not yet, 
 when the Pinckneys took up their residence there, 
 begun to germinate the sort of antitoxin that has 
 now, at least in politics, become hopefully visible. 
 Whether it be merely the lazy, Dutch farmer blood, 
 egregiously fattened, never educated, into an aris 
 tocracy by the unearned increment ; whether it be the 
 later population of keen Yankees, commercial Ger 
 mans, Cubans, South Americans, since the war ad 
 venturous Southerners, coming to the teeming isle 
 for what they might get; or whether, finally and 
 
 81
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 again, it is the Jews that really set the New York 
 tone the fact remains that the people generally 
 share with those same Jews their racial habit of be 
 ing without a city, and lack the finer Hebrew quality 
 of caring for their own. New Yorkers by their 
 feathers are unmistakable the world over; but have 
 nothing else not even speech in common ; their 
 homes are in the air like an orchid box ; they share 
 with a bird of less gay plumage the uncertainty of 
 having no nest of their own a fact of which, to their 
 infinite dismay, even the sombre, shabby West has 
 become conscious in its clumsy, national way. But 
 thence comes that leisure of the type of New York 
 woman that Dorothy most wished to know. 
 
 She had become very fond of Austin again ; per 
 haps the " again " is unnecessary ; but, after all, 
 she showed it more. There was something about the 
 little wooden house in Cambridge which cramped 
 her soul ; it now found expression, and in the sun 
 light and radiance of the brilliant city it expanded 
 freely, metamorphosed like a butterfly. And now 
 she took a real interest in their home, in the furnish 
 ing of it ; she never could have taken such for one 
 in Cambridge. She adapted herself to her husband s 
 will, after a few sighs for the situation, amiably. 
 She was already proud of being a New Yorker ; and 
 there was something peculiarly old New York about 
 
 82
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 the Washington Square neighborhood. The house 
 was large, and that she liked ; but it would take a lot of 
 time to fill the big square rooms. She set about it at 
 once ; new cards were engraved, with their new address 
 and " Fridays " in the lower left-hand corner; she left 
 them on all her acquaintances she knew well enough 
 to venture the first call upon, and then went on a 
 looting trip to Philadelphia. The large Somers 
 mansion contained the accumulation of many genera 
 tions in the garret ; it might well be that there, or 
 even lower down, were stuffs or old mahoganies that 
 might give just the touch of antiquity she needed in 
 their white new house. 
 
 Meantime Austin was getting- absorbed in his 
 own business. The practice of Messrs Grcsham, 
 Daubeny, Radnor & Haviland was very varied; they 
 had their old Knickerbocker landed-gentry clients, 
 their staid old Manhattan Island corporations, a 
 dash of marine business that came in through Hugh 
 Haviland, brother to John, the banker who had 
 been once four years a sailor and worked himself 
 from A.B. up to first officer at nineteen their dash 
 of politics of the higher kind from Daubeny, a prom 
 inent Tammany Democrat of French extraction. 
 Then they had some fashionable trusteeships, and 
 separate maintenances, or even suppressed divorce 
 cases, through the younger unnamed members of the 
 
 83
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 firm, who were for the most part young gentlemen 
 of high social position, one of them even a leader of 
 cotillons. These family affairs were very paying, 
 and were usually attended to by Daubeny. 
 
 To Austin, interested in abstract jurisprudence, 
 all these affairs presented themselves not as persons, 
 but as problems. He hated to have legal principles 
 brought to his knowledge as embodied in individual 
 beings ; there came at once to be something squalid 
 about them. And though the happy days were 
 already far off in New York when even a Dana could 
 pride himself on not recognizing in a horse-car the 
 client for whom he had been two weeks trying a case, 
 one advantage of a great law-mill like that in which 
 Austin worked was that personal affairs filtered 
 down to him peptonized, as it were, for legal diges 
 tion, disinfected of personality, sterilized to an inor 
 ganic and external principle. There is something, 
 after all (as in most traditional prejudices), in the old 
 distinction between barrister and solicitor, as there 
 is in the old prejudice in favor of the highest per 
 sonal service professions as against going into trade. 
 For, after all, the parson serves his God, the soldier 
 his king, the physician his fellow-men even the 
 lawyer (if middling honest) helps to keep straight 
 his sublunary affairs ; but your trader is merely try 
 ing to make money out of you. 
 
 84
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Austin, therefore, was terribly hard at work. He 
 breakfasted at eight sharp, leaving his wife in bed; 
 by the time he had finished with the pipe and scrap 
 of reading he never dispensed with, morning and 
 night, she had had her coffee and was visible; still 
 in bed, but robed in coquettish ribbons and laces. 
 When she was in the humor, these morning calls of 
 his would lead to kisses. Then he would hurry 
 away, happy, and stride down town ; the day was 
 gone in a moment ; tired but full of hope he walked 
 back again at six, late enough to be in those most 
 interesting crowds, the breadwinners ; the thousands 
 upon thousands of young girls or women that throng 
 the ferry cross-streets seeking their distant little 
 homes, in Long Island or New Jersey, after their 
 ten- or eleven-hour day how much remained for 
 leisure or for lovemaking? Yet they seemed, on 
 the whole, as happy as the women Austin afterwards 
 met in " society." Some were tired and pale, but 
 many were bright, and most were brave, and quite 
 a few even pretty. Alas, that the prettiest should 
 so often be the brightest and the bravest! But 
 things are not yet all well in this world were it so, 
 all would be beautiful. For is not all ugliness the 
 result of something wrong? 
 
 Dorothy, her shopping over, had found the day 
 go somewhat slower until, coming home, Austin 
 
 85
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 would make love to her as she would let him. Usu 
 ally in the evening (it was still October) they would 
 go to the theatre together and occasionally have 
 supper at Delmonico s. For Austin had joined no 
 important club as yet, in order that he might have 
 pocket money for their pleasures, nor could any 
 club yet compete. Thus their first winter passed. 
 And, secretly, Austin prayed every night and morn 
 ing for another child. 
 
 XVI 
 
 FEW of our popular novels deal with the life 
 of the simply rich; and poor as Dorothy 
 thought herself, to the chief of our newspaper pub 
 lic they would rank with the rich. " Who drives 
 fat horses should himself be fat " heavy coachmen 
 command, we are told, a better wage than thin. And 
 who would live with the rich should be rich himself. 
 This truth Dorothy, with all her welcome, began to 
 feel ; of course, it was well enough, for a few years, 
 to be the petted friends, Austin the rising young 
 lawyer, she the " show girl," of the week-end party. 
 All good dinner givers like beauty at their boards 
 and beauty need only dress the part. But when 
 they were older and had children and she meant 
 some day to have children how then? 
 
 86
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Yet the merely rich have not been the popular 
 subject of the best novels those, I mean, which pre 
 tend to literature. The public, reading books, pro 
 fesses or we profess it for them to be interested 
 only in the struggling hero, the cottage maid; vil 
 lains, indeed, may be rich, but heroes must struggle. 
 The same public, reading newspapers, is fascinated 
 by the supposed realism of the " Society column " 
 dealing only with the rich and the newspapers usu 
 ally know what people like. Can it be that it is 
 but a stage tradition are our bookmen wrong? 
 
 Factory girls, domestics, indeed, as we are told, 
 will read, in their Ledgers or Saturday Nights, of 
 nothing but the rich, their doings and their undo 
 ings. And farmers daughters, kept away from col 
 lege, living with their shirt-sleeved brothers and 
 friends brothers on the prairie farm, in the Ukraine 
 of the West, may doubtless want to read of black- 
 coated gentlemen in shiny shirts and hats. Soci 
 ety ladies, marooned in Peoria or San Diego, must 
 have telegraphed to them the names of Mrs Ras- 
 tacq s dinner party. May we not, then, hope the 
 reader will bear with us the next few chapters? 
 They have their human interest ; and the occurrences 
 in them were of absorbing interest to Dorothy. 
 
 But the factory girls, perhaps even the farmers 
 daughters, want idealism. As they will in no wise 
 
 87
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 read tales about themselves they are at one with 
 our society leaders in caring nothing for the million 
 the life of the eighty million, the real American 
 life, remains a sealed book ; at least it would be, in 
 any free library, an uncut one. Their novels must 
 deal exclusively with the Four Hundred or let us 
 at least say, more generously, the four thousand. 
 (We believe there are about four thousand million 
 aires in the United States ; and even the factory 
 girl is intolerant of senseless distinctions ; one mil 
 lionaire is as good as another.) And their key 
 must be pitched to that idealism where the heroine 
 must always recline in point lace and diamonds, or 
 " tool " a pair of polished bays ; the hero, corrupt to 
 the core, roll his cigarettes in a club window or be 
 " opening " a bottle of " wine " and the factory 
 girl herself not enter, save, perhaps, as that hero s 
 prey, to be cast aside like a faded flower when his 
 caprice has ended. How vie with this idealism? 
 How compete with these ladies and gentlemen who 
 do the trick unknown authors, we have the impu 
 dence to call those purveyors of literature to His 
 Majesty, the sovereign people. 
 
 Yet Austin s life was a true one, and Dorothy s, 
 she thought, a very real one; why then the millions, 
 who after all live truly, should they not find it in 
 teresting? Dorothy really lives and moves in that 
 
 88
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Four Hundred; may not our brush have color to 
 make the reader credit it? It can but paint the 
 facts. I do not find upon my palette the scarlet of 
 a Corelli, a Ouida s mauve and rose, even the splen 
 did primary tints so thick laid on by those bright 
 geniuses above referred to whose names I durst 
 not mention even if I could remember. Let us then 
 dare to be plain even if we forego our cream-col 
 ored (sic) bays, our diamonds at breakfast. 
 
 For Dorothy more easily than she hoped 
 had found her footing. Birth in America will do 
 as much as elsewhere even in money-making New 
 York it has its influence. The Somerses were peo 
 ple of established social relations ; the Austins, still 
 more the Pinckneys, were families whose history 
 " bore " (as one would say in heraldry) that of the 
 United States themselves or shall we say itself? 
 All our history has thus far turned on the conflict 
 of those two meanings ; and if the Pinckneys, aristo 
 crats of South Carolina, had stood historically for 
 the former, the Austins, Federalists of Massachu 
 setts, had wrought for the latter reading and pre 
 vailed. They had numbered a Signer, an Envoy, a 
 Secretary of State, a Senator, a Governor until 
 the present John, Pinckney s double cousin, who 
 was only a pillar of Newport society. As such he 
 had, by the very inventor of the famous Four Hun- 
 7 89
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 dred, a planter at Goose Creek, been referred to as 
 " coming from a middle-class family " ! Oh, these 
 South Carolinians ! But it did John Austin lots of 
 good; was, in fact, the cause of his leaving Nahant. 
 Pinckney s father, to be sure (no one now quite 
 knew why), with all the family s ability, had been 
 but a poor Consul, accredited in his youth to 
 Carlsruhe, whence he never stirred. But we wan 
 der from our subject, which is Dorothy. If the 
 Gansevoorts ignored her, the rival leaders Mrs 
 Gower, Mrs Rastacq took her up. The latter in 
 deed, on hearing her story, sent her, for the second 
 night of the opera, her box, where she bloomed, 
 radiant to her very eyebrows, before the house of 
 Gansevoort across the way. 
 
 And it must have been that this appearance at 
 the opera had seemed in a way to be an assumption 
 of court rank ; the newspapers recognized her as 
 one of the younger " queens of society " ; her por 
 trait was syndicated to the Woman s section of the 
 Sunday newspapers. She was a " pretty person." 
 Even her husband was presentable and intelligent. 
 And when her visiting card appeared, with its 
 house address and its " Fridays " in the lower 
 left-hand corner, both were accepted; her after 
 noons were attended by those whom our newspa 
 pers again would call our best people and indeed 
 
 90
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 you may wish yourself as sure of the next world as 
 they are sure of this. Really, a flat even a smaller 
 house more fashionably situated would have been 
 inconvenient. Dorothy often thought how different 
 it all was from those dingy days in Cambridge ; this 
 was life. 
 
 She had, one Monday afternoon, a curious re 
 minder of those days in Cambridge, though. It was 
 in their second New York winter. By that time her 
 Fridays had grown to be sufficient of an institution 
 to be mentioned in those sometimes inconvenient 
 newspapers ; and it was on the first of them, after 
 their return from the Catskills, that he appeared. 
 How did he ever know my day? she unimaginatively 
 reflected. Anyway, he had been clever enough to 
 note it ; and she was undeniably at home ; there were 
 a dozen people there. But he had not been quite 
 clever enough to walk in, hat in hand; the drawing- 
 room could not have been denied him, had he (she 
 hired a butler for the day) had his name announced. 
 He only sent up his card, " Mr Augustus Markoff." 
 As it was, she did not hesitate a moment: she was 
 (undeniably to Mr Markoff) " not at home." 
 
 It mattered nothing to her ; little more, perhaps, 
 to Markoff, though he smiled a bit grimly in his 
 mustache as he walked back to Fifth Avenue ; she was 
 only making her way, he, not without approval, rec- 
 
 91
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 ognized, esteeming her on that account no less de 
 sirable; their paths would cross fast enough; how 
 little, after all, she knew! For he was making his 
 way, too. 
 
 It mattered more, perhaps, to our hero and 
 yet, that night, when they talked over the events of 
 the day, she felt as if she could hardly tell him. 
 Bolting it, at last she did, feeling her temples red 
 den ; Austin, however, did not notice the blush. 
 " Oh, yes I remember you did not like him at the 
 end, in Cambridge he has added the us in New 
 York," said he, in amused inspection of the other 
 wise faultless card. For it was small, quite white, 
 and not shiny ; it even had no period after the name, 
 which is the ultimate earmark of a smart pasteboard. 
 And so, as it happened, Dorothy forgot this inci 
 dent. 
 
 And then, in the evening, they went to a dinner, 
 where Dorothy wore but really one can t be always 
 describing her gowns ! It was a very grand dinner, 
 though I fear there was no Roman punch in the mid 
 dle of it. Per contra, there was terrapin ; and, when 
 the ladies were alone in the drawing-room, it took 
 four flunkies to serve them their coffee one the 
 cups, one the coffee, one the cream and sugar, a 
 fourth the cigarettes there is something peculiarly 
 sensation about a lady s cigarettes, particularly 
 
 92
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 when smoked with a gown cut low Have we not 
 now got the necessary thrill to our readers of the 
 million? Dorothy, too, was thrilled. 
 
 But oh, our thoughtful thousand, bear with us 
 and desert us not. These are not trifles. The 
 doings of our well-to-do may neither be all evil 
 nor all dull. There is a world worth studying 
 outside the realms of Dialect, contemporary not 
 historical, whose lives even when idle are not negli 
 gible. We make the bluff of thinking not ; our 
 magazines ignore them ; our newspapers know bet 
 ter. Suggested to the imagination of eighty mill 
 ions, a Mrs Gower does not lead her cynic s life 
 in vain ; or even reckless Mamie Rastacq, copied 
 throughout our land in manners and in aims, fail 
 to count. And the quiet wives and mothers count 
 though it be to fewer. They are never described 
 by the syndicates to the middle West, nor are their 
 pictures sold upon Broadway. And, lover and bride, 
 our Dorothy counts though it be to Austin Pinck- 
 ney only for he had married her, in cure of her soul. 
 
 XVII 
 
 SOME weeks after this, as Austin was sitting 
 alone in the little cell that served as his pri 
 vate office, trying to draw a railroad mortgage, he 
 
 93
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 was surprised to hear the boy announce " Mr Mark- 
 off." And that gentleman pressed so close upon the 
 heels of his messenger that before Austin could re 
 cover from his embarrassment his old classmate was 
 in the room. * 
 
 But if Austin was conscious of a certain shy 
 ness, Markoff showed no mauvaise honte mauvaise 
 or otherwise. Perhaps he did not suppose that 
 young American wives burden their husbands with 
 all their little social difficulties. Or perhaps he as 
 sumed that such trifles should not stand in the way 
 of business. For he began by saying: 
 
 " I have come on a little matter of business 
 as he threw himself into a chair. 
 
 " Sit down," said Austin, rather belatedly, re 
 suming his own. 
 
 Markoff, with an all-embracing eye, looked 
 around the office ; the draft of the mortgage lay 
 open upon the desk. 
 
 " Ah, I see you are in that Allegheny Central 
 business. The fact is, the matter I came about re 
 lates, in a way, to that." Austin said nothing, and 
 Markoff went on, as in a burst of confidence: " You 
 see, I ve got a client who owns a railroad. It is only 
 partly built as yet ; but it will be quite necessary to 
 the Allegheny Central. We have called it the Alle 
 gheny Pacific. To complete it, my client has an 
 
 94
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 issue of bonds to place fifteen millions in all of 
 which twelve million two hundred thousand or so 
 are to be held to meet prior underlying mortgages. 
 The other twenty-eight hundred thousand are of 
 fered for sale. Austin and Markoff suddenly 
 resumed his college manner, his hand on Pinck- 
 ney s knee " I thought of you at once. You ve 
 got the social connections I haven t. Your uptown 
 connections, I mean ; they re the best for this sort 
 of thing." 
 
 Austin had risen instinctively, so that Markoff 
 now stood facing him, his eye on the other s scarf- 
 pin, as he added, impressively, " the commission is 
 two and a half per cent to divide between us." 
 
 " But I thought the Allegheny Central had its 
 Western connections?" Austin did not know just 
 what to say. 
 
 " It has of a kind. Have you got a map ? " 
 
 " There are maps in the outer office," and Aus 
 tin, seeing his way of escape, led his friend rapidly 
 into the general room. Markoff took out a long 
 lead pencil and laid the point of it upon a city on 
 the map ; then gently moved it to the left, along a 
 narrow blank space between two railroad lines, care 
 fully avoiding any tracing on the paper. 
 
 " You see," he said, " here is Steam City our 
 present Eastern terminus. And here " (making a 
 
 95
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 dot) " is Belief ontaine. And here is the Belief on- 
 taine Pacific. And here " (making another dot) 
 " is Chicago." 
 
 " You don t mean to extend to Chicago ? " 
 
 " Not perhaps at once. The present issue car 
 ries us only to Bellefontaine. But I don t mind 
 telling you " and again his manner became con 
 fidential " we, that is, my client, controls the 
 Bellefontaine Pacific. You see the strategic posi 
 tion?" 
 
 " I can only see that you parallel between two 
 old established railroads." 
 
 Markoff lifted his eye from the scarfpin to a 
 point in space over Pinckney s left shoulder. 
 
 " That, perhaps, is an element in the situation. 
 Our bonds are to be offered at ninety-five one per 
 cent off to bankers, or large investors who mean to 
 sell again, you know. Here you can be a little elas 
 tic." Markoff made a move as if to return to the 
 private office, but Pinckney remained standing. 
 
 " Markoff, I can t do it I I don t know the 
 people. Why don t you go to Auerbach? " 
 
 " They haven t taken me into partnership. He 
 knows nothing of this it s all my own affair. I can 
 give it to whom I like. And I thought at once of 
 you." 
 
 " It s very kind of you but I really can t." 
 96
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Markoff s eye wavered to his for a moment. 
 " The commission is on the whole fifteen millions." 
 
 " I can t," said Austin decisively. " The Alle 
 gheny Central is our client. Anyhow, I m not in 
 that line of business. I m a lawyer at least, I want 
 to be." 
 
 Markoff looked at him compassionately. Then 
 he spoke, aloud this time: 
 
 " The Allegheny Central had better look after 
 itself. You know that broken-down fellow on the 
 street curbstone broker, note shaver, I don t know 
 what not Townley, I mean? Ruined him, and 
 ruined half a dozen others, hardly ten years ago. 
 Well, old fellow, I must be going. No harm done. 
 I m glad to have given you the chance, that s all." 
 
 " Of course, I m much obliged to you 
 
 " Anyhow, I m glad they ve got you to draw 
 their mortgage " 
 
 Pinckney looked at him inquiringly. 
 
 " They haven t got another that ll foreclose," 
 cried Markoff, as he smilingly took his leave. 
 
 " Who was that I heard talking Allegheny Cen 
 tral? " said Mr Gresham, as he came out on his way 
 to lunch, buttoning his gloves. 
 
 " Markoff he was at the law school with me." 
 
 " They say that young man draws a very good 
 mortgage." 
 
 97
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " He says there isn t one on the Allegheny Cen 
 tral that can be foreclosed," laughed Pinckney. 
 
 " Perhaps that s what they mean," said Mr 
 Gresham gravely. "What did he want?" 
 
 " He offered to divide with me a commission to 
 help place some railroad bonds." 
 
 " Come along to lunch." It was the first time 
 that Mr Gresham had invited Austin to lunch. 
 " What were they ? Of course, he didn t mean you 
 to tell me." 
 
 " The Allegheny Pacific ; new general mort 
 gage," Austin unhesitatingly replied. " Two and a 
 half per cent commission, on all the bonds." 
 
 " Then he s already divided the commission once 
 with Tamms. It can t have been less than five 
 per cent ; that would have been robbing themselves. 
 He divides with Tamms ; and then he divides but half 
 with you." 
 
 "With Tamms?" 
 
 " Tamms is his client, of course. He got up this 
 Allegheny Pacific scheme. He s been trying to get 
 back into Allegheny Central ever since they ousted 
 him. He had to go to Canada for some years. It 
 was he who drew those mortgages your friend refers 
 to. And what did you say ? " 
 
 " I refused it," said Austin. " I didn t think it 
 was law business. Was I right? " 
 
 98
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " According to the old school," smiled Mr 
 Gresham. Mr Gresham was the Nestor of the bar; 
 no man stood higher. He rarely appeared save in 
 the highest courts, as senior to a retinue of other 
 lawyers; and then his appearance, though terrify 
 ing, was yet hailed by the other side as a sort of 
 signal of distress. " But it was business from the 
 point of view of what did you say his name was? 
 Markoff. It may have seemed good business to 
 him. Keep your eye on him perhaps he meant to 
 be friendly." 
 
 Austin walked home that night, a little tired, to 
 find his Dorothy in a depression of spirits she was 
 at no pains to conceal. The fact that she was not 
 quite sure whether it was a house for the summer 
 or a carriage for the winter that she needed most 
 or even, simply, more gowns made it none the 
 easier to deal with. She could not formulate it to 
 Austin, and he failed to discover the source of her 
 trouble. But when, for the sake of conversation, 
 he told her that Markoff had been to see him, she 
 tapped her foot angrily and called that rising gen 
 tleman an impudent cad. To Austin s surprised 
 look she added, " And what did he want ? " 
 
 " He wanted me to sell some bonds on commis 
 sion." 
 
 Somewhat mollified the girl replied, " Oh, it was 
 99
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 business." And something in her tone was so like 
 that of Mr Markoff s that Austin looked at her 
 again. 
 
 " I mean " (she was rather confused; her pride 
 had always stood in the way of confessing that Cam 
 bridge scene) " I mean, would there have been 
 much profit in it, Austin? " 
 
 " He calculated it at three hundred and sev 
 enty-five thousand dollars," laughed the young hus 
 band, " for the two of us." 
 
 " Oh, Austin ! " 
 
 " But it was not a lawyer s business. Moreover, 
 I had my doubts about the bonds." 
 
 Dorothy made a pretty little grimace. Then she 
 rumpled his hair. " You dear old fellow," she said. 
 " You ll never get on. So you sent him away ? " 
 
 " Wouldn t you have had me? You sent him 
 away first," laughed Austin. " For a Jew, he be 
 trayed a most Christian spirit." 
 
 " Well," said Dorothy, " under those circum 
 stances I should have asked him to call." 
 
 " Do you want me to? " 
 
 " N-no," said Dorothy. " He will come again 
 fast enough. At least, he will when I want him." 
 
 But Mr Markoff did not call again that winter. 
 
 100
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 XVIII 
 
 THERE had been something petulant in Doro 
 thy s tones as she made her last remark, and 
 Austin took up the evening paper. There had often 
 been a petulance, a sense of suppressed irritation, 
 in her tones of late, and he had tried in vain to find 
 of what he was guilty. He had not, perhaps, given 
 her a carriage, or a country house no, it could be 
 nothing so crude as that ; yet, he felt sure, when a 
 young wife was out of humor it must be a matter 
 for the husband to cure. 
 
 Old Major Brandon had met him at the club a 
 day or two before, and had not inquired about his 
 wife, as was his wont. But he had done a thing 
 which struck Austin as, for him, in most inexplicable 
 bad taste. " Any babies yet ? " he had asked bru 
 tally. It was true, he had been away for a year. 
 And no one else was present. 
 
 Austin had laughingly replied the only way 
 possible to lighten the speech to common courtesy 
 but the old man had showed no compunction. 
 
 " Too many gowns too many gowns," he grum 
 bled. " In the natural marriage, the woman brought 
 no gowns you knocked her down with a club. But 
 in due course of time she had a baby." The 
 
 101
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Major s approval of primitive marriage was well 
 known. 
 
 " And when the man had beaten her black and 
 blue and she had worn out herself and lost her come 
 liness in his service, he d want another wife," laughed 
 Austin. " Was it better for her to be a mother once 
 and a drudge forever after? " 
 
 " Call her his slave if you like, the natural woman 
 loves slavery her very virtues and vices are those 
 of a slave fidelity, endurance, devotion, love of 
 ornament, jealousy, hatred of other women the 
 error began when man first made a slave into his 
 ideal She? She was happy enough. There was 
 once a woman who lived her first eighteen years in 
 the harem of the Sultan of Zanzibar ; then she es 
 caped, with a boat s crew of sailors, and married a 
 German supercargo. She lived sixty years in Ber 
 lin, a German hausfrau; then her husband died and 
 she wrote a book about it. She much preferred her 
 life in the harem at Zanzibar 
 
 " Does that prove that you would have me treat 
 Dorothy like a German hausfrau? " 
 
 The Major grumbled. " All the same it is the 
 fine lady that will ultimately destroy modern civiliza 
 tion particularly in a great democracy corrupt in 
 money matters but correct in morals. Here s a man 
 I want you to know." 
 
 102
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 A singularly handsome man, looking like a 
 Ouida s guardsman at nigh to fifty, was passing by. 
 
 " Van Kull, this is my young friend Charles Aus 
 tin Pinckney. You may have heard of the family. 
 You know his wife, I believe." 
 
 If the gentleman so waylaid felt any impatience 
 at the importunity, nothing in his manner showed 
 it. His eyes rested but a moment on the Major s; 
 turning them fully and openly upon Austin s, he 
 held out his hand. His face was curious for a mix 
 ture of intense, almost feminine fairness with mas 
 culine strength, and under the gleam of a wonder 
 fully winning pair of blue eyes his long yellow 
 mustaches were those of the beau sabreur s. " I am 
 but just back, or I d have called," said he. 
 
 " Van Kull lives in Paris. Here he only forays," 
 the Major explained. 
 
 " My coupons are cut in an office on Pine 
 Street," smiled Van Kull. 
 
 " Who ever called you dull, Killian ? " asked the 
 Major. 
 
 " Dunno bout every one, I guess." He turned 
 to Austin. " See you at the ball to-night? It is at 
 the Antoine Rastacq s, Major " 
 
 " Didn t know you went to balls " 
 
 Out of his sleepy eyelids the younger man shot a 
 glance which the Major bore with his wonted placid- 
 
 103
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 ity. But Austin looked at his watch. The remark 
 reminded him that, of course, his wife meant to go. 
 And he was very tired. . . . 
 
 She came down to dinner in a wrapper. It had 
 never been her habit to be slovenly, even before her 
 servants, and Austin was formally dressed. 
 
 " I am dreadfully tired and I must go to that 
 ball to-night " 
 
 " Why don t you give it up ? " 
 
 "Mrs Rastacq s? I ll not go till one o clock, 
 though. And I m just going to put myself in bed 
 and going to sleep." She drew the soft wrapper 
 about her shoulders, and Austin noticed how thin 
 she was. She had hardly eaten a morsel. He spoke 
 of it. 
 
 "Oh, am I?" Dorothy sprang up and looked 
 at a glass. " I m only a hundred and thirty yet. 
 They say Mrs Rastacq has got herself down to a 
 hundred and nineteen." 
 
 " I trust you don t think Mamie Rastacq a good 
 model." 
 
 " Quite for the altogether," laughed Dorothy. 
 " We weren t speaking of her character. Now I 
 must run up and lie down ; don t you come and 
 bother me, there s a good fellow." 
 
 Austin betook himself into the library, where he 
 104
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 worked an hour or two ; then he threw himself in an 
 easy chair and fell asleep. He awoke, after mid 
 night, in a strange sinking of spirits ; the fire had 
 gone out, and he was chilly. He took himself up 
 stairs, to go to bed, forgetting the ball ; as he passed 
 his wife s door he turned the handle; the sudden 
 glare of light blinded him. Dorothy, in a bright 
 blaze of candles, was sitting before a mirror; only 
 her white shoulders were turned toward him, but 
 he could see her thin dryad arms, and, in the mir 
 ror, an anxious face. Two maids were anxiously 
 lacing her. She cried to him to go out and 
 dress. . . . 
 
 At the ball, feeling himself still blinking, Austin 
 found himself alone with his hostess. She looked 
 after his wife, who had dropped his arm at their 
 very courtesy ; he at her. She was a slender, beauti 
 ful woman of the dangerous age one had called 
 it, but that all her ages had been dangerous. He 
 knew her because she had been a great friend, a 
 younger cousin, indeed, of his great friends, the 
 John Havilands ; and as he looked at her, he mar 
 veled. His wife was already dancing on the arm 
 of some youth, with two more anxiously waiting for 
 her at the ballroom door. And while Austin was 
 wondering, she made a speech. (The next day, still 
 8 105
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 wondering, as they walked downtown, he asked John 
 Haviland about his wife s cousin.) " Your wife is 
 quite the most charming thing we have had lately in 
 New York. Her man hasn t come yet. He always 
 comes late." This was her speech. Austin was still 
 too new to New York not to start, for an eyelid s 
 breath, at the studied coarseness of the fashionable 
 phrase. Mrs Rastacq noticed it and laughed. 
 
 " How nice it is to see you care ! But I was only 
 chaffing. Who can keep her, if you can t? " 
 
 Not so dull as to feel sure she was not chaffing 
 still, Austin only looked at her. Dorothy had been 
 right. Tall and wonderfully graceful, 
 
 " Her eye was like the wave within, 
 And on her body, dainty thin " 
 
 she wore a fabric which, though loose, still outlined 
 close her slimness. She weighed no more than Doro 
 thy had said; but not a bone showed in the long, 
 white arms, the girlish neck. Her eyes held his 
 laughingly. " Well, are you satisfied ? " 
 
 Mamie was bon enfant all her enemies said as 
 much and the masculine adjective suited her in 
 more ways than one. She was a good fellow men 
 said, a good companion. Even her envious older 
 rival, Mrs Malgam, said that she left her men all 
 friends. 
 
 106
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " Come, let us walk about. I must show you the 
 world, little boy. You are friend to my good cousin 
 Grace. She would not come here to-night." 
 
 (This she said without a trace of malice; and 
 Austin spoke of it when, on the walk, John said 
 how they two had fallen away. They were friends 
 still ; but Gracie never went, to meet her people, to 
 her house.) 
 
 " Is there much for me to learn in a ballroom ? " 
 
 " Don t be a prig. Perhaps. Didn t everything 
 that happened to you that was really important hap 
 pen to you in a ballroom ? " 
 
 Austin demurred, but she slipped her arm (they 
 were walking) from his to his shoulder, and, as it 
 might have happened to Alice in Wonderland, he 
 found himself waltzing. Her body was light as 
 thistledown, and occasionally she would draw back 
 her dark head, like some beautiful serpent, and show 
 him a pair of eyes too lovely to sparkle so with 
 malice. With all her masculine ways he could still 
 feel that it was a woman that was on his arm 
 
 " There," she said, " you are not so much of a 
 prig as I thought. Now that you ve not been too 
 impatient, we ll go look after that wife of yours." 
 
 They paused a minute at the doorway leading 
 to a conservatory. The ballroom was a sea of toss 
 ing heads, of billows of tulle and laces, of flashing 
 
 107
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 eyes and gleaming shoulders. The black coats made 
 the necessary shadow. " Almost every woman looks 
 happy when she s dancing," mused Mrs Rastacq. 
 Austin smiled as he remembered the Major s words. 
 
 " The dancing girls in a harem? " 
 
 " Perhaps I d like to try think of the Sultan, 
 leaning his great bare back against the furs of his 
 divan, looking lazily at us over his nargileh think 
 of the fun of getting him from the other girls ! The 
 men don t, though." And the dreamy look van 
 ished from Mamie s eyes and the twinkle in them 
 returned they still stood at the door as she 
 looked them over. But two or three expressions 
 lay in all the men s faces fatuity, anxiety, or grim 
 determination. " Now a man who could look as a 
 woman does when he dances is the man the man 
 I should not love," her sentence ended. Austin 
 laughed. 
 
 " Your second thought is the best." 
 
 " In a ballroom or just out of it." They had 
 come into the grateful gloom of the conservatory. 
 Mrs Rastacq s conversation was both elusive and in 
 consequent. " There s your wife," said she. " Now 
 you can keep her; I must go." 
 
 " Let me take you back," a deep voice said lan 
 guidly. It was Killian Van Kull s great figure that 
 erected itself from the gloom and offered to lead 
 
 108
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 their hostess away with that assurance that forty 
 years had given of the experience that all his world 
 would accept his lead. Austin felt himself flush, as 
 his wife turned red. 
 
 " No, since there are two, we ll leave you to 
 gether," said Mamie. " But I ll get you another 
 girl," she added to Austin, as she led him away. 
 " You re a dear." 
 
 " My dear Mrs Rastacq " 
 
 " * Although old enough to be my mother 
 
 " That wasn t what I was about to say 
 
 " But I m your hostess, and if you want to say 
 anything else, I must get you another girl. There ! 
 Isn t it lovely? You may take your pick." 
 
 She meant the ballroom again ; it was at its 
 height of animation ; four o clock in the morning, 
 and even the men had waked up. The younger girls 
 had gone to supper, or were sitting out; it was the 
 married women, dancing. 
 
 " Wouldn t you think that they en j oyed it even 
 more? Yet how many of them respectable mothers 
 of families as they mostly are for how many of 
 them, do you think, Mr Pinckney " 
 
 The tone of her voice had quite changed, and 
 Austin looked from the ballroom back to her. 
 
 " For how many of them is there not, some 
 where in the world, one voice in the world, at least, 
 
 109
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 of space and time one voice which, if it called to 
 them, so that they could hear it, here and now, they 
 would not leave the dance this dance, any dance 
 children, husbands, position leave them here and 
 now and cross the street or cross the world to 
 where that voice was heard? " 
 
 The woman s voice had sunken almost to a whis 
 per and her face was pale. 
 
 "Have I frightened you? Well, get me some 
 supper. No, get yourself some. There comes your 
 wife with her beau sabreur heavens ! what will they 
 think if you re still here? And he the only man I 
 ever could love who had a large mustache^-" Mamie 
 was again irresistible, and Austin burst out laugh 
 ing. 
 
 " But where shall I see you again? " 
 
 " You don t want to see me again, young man. 
 If it s my second thoughts that are the best, my first 
 acquaintance is. Then, I tell my friends all my 
 truth and anything else that s good for them to 
 know. After that, my conscience is discharged." 
 
 " I can t imagine you without conscience ! " 
 
 Mrs Rastacq darted a new glance at him. 
 " Well, after supper." 
 
 (Walking down, next day, Haviland told him 
 how poor Mamie had set her heart, at eighteen, on 
 Charlie Townley ; he turned out worthless. Noth- 
 
 110
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 ing scandalous about him at least he was not the 
 principal sinner but his old uncle lost his mind and 
 Charlie was ruined. And Mamie still would marry 
 him, but her parents would not hear of it, and they 
 pleaded with her successfully. Then two or three 
 good fellows had been in love with her. But she 
 flung herself madly into the world, until, at twenty- 
 five, she married old Rastacq a vicious old viveur 
 of sixty, enormously rich, but some sort of a creole 
 or dago " not even a Frenchman," said the narrow- 
 minded John. This time Grace had pleaded with 
 her even unto tears, but her family had given in. 
 Rastacq still liked to give balls, but was too old to 
 go to them ; if he was here to-night, he was some 
 where with a pretty woman, upstairs. He would 
 stay down long enough to receive them, and then 
 the favored ones would come and talk to him in his 
 library.) 
 
 After supper, though it was nearly six, Dorothy 
 would not go home. Now she was dancing ; Van 
 Kull appeared to have left her; and, coming away 
 from her, Austin found his hostess standing fear 
 lessly by the strong light in the main hall. And the 
 woman of thirty looked like a maid of sixteen. 
 
 " The beau sabreur not gone yet? I love to see 
 my little boy blush." 
 
 Austin was angry, and threw himself into a 
 111
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 chair. " Tell me, you that might have been my 
 mother, how do you keep so young ? " 
 
 Mamie, still standing, chose thus to punish him: 
 she bent from her height until her eyes were on a 
 level with his, lifting one fair arm to lay her hand 
 lightly on his shoulder, as, rudely, he still sat there. 
 Her gown fell loose ; in another woman it might 
 have been an impropriety ; but her slim body was 
 like a boy s. So she paused a moment, and might 
 have been the statue of a youthful temptress. But 
 then, putting her face so near his that her breath 
 moved his hair, she whispered very softly: 
 
 " By having no heart in it. And that s the last 
 truth I shall tell you ! " she shouted, as she sprang 
 back and ran off, like a young fawn, to dismiss the 
 laggards. 
 
 Among the last of these was Dorothy. They 
 came home in the hired coupe, silent; Austin still 
 vaguely angry. Gradually his mood changed; but 
 Dorothy was nervous and distinctly cross. Com 
 ing home, she submitted to one kiss, and then dis 
 missed him at her door. It was an hour or two be 
 fore Austin, tired as he had been at midnight, could 
 get to sleep again.
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 " She whispered very softly : By having no heart in it !
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 XIX 
 
 AUSTIN S means did not permit of a summer 
 house ; and it seems to be an accepted fact 
 that New York or its neighborhood is impossible in 
 the heated months at least for ladies. But it 
 happened that Dorothy s younger sister was about 
 her " coming out " ; and so Mrs Somers made rather 
 an exceptional summer present it was a thousand 
 dollars to Dorothy, provided she would take 
 " Daisy " with her and " go where they liked." 
 Daisy was shorter than her sister and not nearly so 
 pretty ; but Mrs Somers was of opinion that a beau 
 tiful elder, married, sometimes makes the younger 
 " go." Whether it was that poor Daisy was to shine 
 by Dorothy s reflected light, or whether it could be 
 thought there were men who, finding the beauty un- 
 disposable, would take the next best thing in the 
 family, the fact had fallen within range of Mrs Som- 
 ers s observation. 
 
 "They liked" Newport; after all (said Doro- 
 they) it was the only place where you might be sure 
 a debutante would meet no one she ought not to ; and 
 Austin, while not recognizing this among the most 
 obvious virtues of that resort, assented. Naturally 
 their thousand dollars, even with the other thousand 
 
 113
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 that Austin managed to spare, would not have car 
 ried them very far in housekeeping ; but with it they 
 managed to pass a few months in what were called 
 Clery s cottages : Anglicc, a boarding house, where 
 they had accommodations about as commodious as 
 are enjoyed, anywhere in Northern America, in his 
 " Queen Anne " cottage by the carpenter or the 
 plumber. But they were thus excused from the duty 
 of making that show which, Dorothy deemed, her 
 station in life demanded, and no one could expect 
 them to entertain. And Newport had the advantage 
 that Austin could easily get to his wife of a Sunday : 
 a privilege not shared by many New York men, 
 whose wives pass their summers on the Maine coast 
 with college boys or detached attaches and which, 
 to the former at least, does a great deal of harm. 
 
 But Austin and his wife were growing farther 
 and farther apart. We have not tried or, if so, 
 we have not succeeded in keeping this from the 
 reader. The good old Ma j or had seen it first, a year 
 before. It had troubled him deeply ; though the 
 match had not been of his making, Austin s mar 
 riage had been the romance of his declining years ; 
 and the Major (who would have thought it?) loved 
 a romance. When he had seen the girl, she had 
 seemed, to his partial eye at least, beautiful enough 
 for the role; and she had some of the fire, the in- 
 
 114
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 trepidity, that the exigencies of her part demanded. 
 Had a baby come into the world, the Major would 
 have claimed, if not paternal, at least avuncular 
 honors. It was really to escape the spectacle of 
 their coming estrangement that he had been abroad 
 that year whence he had returned with Killian Van 
 Kull. The Major had never hitherto regarded that 
 predatory sportsman from the domestic point of 
 view. He now thought it necessary to warn his Dor 
 othy like any old clucking hen. " My dear, he is 
 one of the thoroughly evil men I know he is really 
 bad! " But the only effect of the Major s use of 
 this adjective (and it has a humorous sound) was to 
 move his Dorothy to uncontrollable merriment. 
 When she recovered she intimated, to the Major s 
 astonished ears, that she herself was not a chicken, 
 and that he himself had introduced the hawk. As 
 for Daisy (who was by) she naturally yearned to 
 meet him. 
 
 Then the Major remembered how, at the end, he 
 had been puzzled by Dorothy at Cambridge. " I 
 believe she was trying it on on ME ! " he muttered 
 to himself. But as Dorothy fell in his estimation his 
 affection for Austin redoubled. If only (thought 
 he) he would keep up his wife s devotion with a club ! 
 
 What the Major felt, after all, does not much 
 matter. Nor perhaps would it so much have mat- 
 
 115
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 tered if it were Dorothy alone who was (to say an 
 Irishry) drifting apart. But the Major was quite 
 a deep enough observer to see, and student of human 
 nature profound enough to realize, how much the 
 worse thing this was, that Austin was beginning 
 not to love her. For the harm to a fine-natured man 
 comes not from any wrong the woman he loves does 
 to him. Such a soul as the noblest are, is designed 
 to love but one. To cease to love, in such a man, is 
 almost such an injury as, to a maid, is the loss of her 
 virginity. Or else, as perhaps Austin did (his mind 
 far too clear and strong to juggle with him on the 
 great facts of life), he finds the truth that he has 
 never loved at all; then is his soul most vulnerable 
 to Satan. He imputes to his past action the shame 
 of sex ; grows hard, like a lost woman ; listens to the 
 Spirit that Denies. 
 
 When Austin went to Newport, he did not stay 
 at his wife s cottage. To begin with, as she pointed 
 out, it would be indecent : they must share one room ; 
 she had only two bedrooms and a bath; and Daisy 
 was the sort of girl whose wrapper never would stay 
 buttoned and who was always floating around the 
 apartment i^ballet costume. So Austin, perforce, 
 would take a room at the Ocean House, where, in 
 the last years of that hostelry, he witnessed an ex 
 piring social phase, and watched, not without inter- 
 
 116
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 est, the struggles of the few scattering families of 
 Cubans or Southwesterners who came to Newport 
 thus to mingle in High Life dimly conscious now 
 that it was limited to the pleasure of reading, in 
 their own Louisville or Denver newspaper, below 
 the account, minutely detailed, of Mrs Rastacq s 
 gown at Mrs Levison-Gower s dinner, and of Mrs 
 Malgam s every movement of the day (and no 
 Western paper is so poor or so remote as to omit 
 its weekly column of these doings ye gods of a 
 democracy, tell us why!) "At Newport also are 
 Mr and Mrs Orville C. Creamer and their charming 
 daughters, the well-known merchant of this city." 
 But the daughters, when back in Sioux City, knew 
 every one of these ladies intimately by sight, to the 
 very knots in the backs of their gowns. 
 
 It was the custom of Austin Pinckney to read his 
 business letters in the morning, answer them, if pos 
 sible, by telegraph, and then, after breakfast, be 
 free to give his day to Dorothy or so much of it 
 as she would accept. And one lovely August morn 
 ing he was sitting in the little old park by the old 
 stone mill, reading a letter from his senior. It was 
 to the effect that they had a client of long standing 
 no longer, perhaps, very prosperous or very 
 reputable (Austin read between the lines) that he 
 was particularly anxious about a corporation in 
 
 117
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 which he was largely interested, and that his gout, 
 "etc." (Gresham had underlined the etc.), would 
 really prevent his coming to the city to consult with 
 them, and he lived, for the moment, near the Ocean 
 House, " and might be heard of " there ; would not 
 Mr Pinckney, who was on the spot, have the kind 
 ness to consult with him? His name was Mr Miles 
 Breese. As Austin read this name, he was conscious 
 of a slight shadow on the path before him, causing 
 him to look up from the garden seat and see a slen 
 der girl, who had just passed by; she walked rapidly 
 away, so that he could not see her face, but her gait 
 had an indescribable blending of youth and grace 
 and dignity, and any man, though looking after her 
 shoulders alone, would have an indescribably ac 
 quired conviction that she was beautiful. 
 
 Austin turned back to his letters and finished them. 
 Then he sat in the shade and waited. The loveliness 
 of the hour and the sweet season availed nothing to 
 lighten his heart. Nothing unusual and nothing 
 very agreeable had happened in the evening before 
 with his wife. Nothing, certainly, to cause the 
 strange presentiment a suggestion, not a presenti 
 ment that his life was at an end. He thought, with 
 a half smile, of Schopenhauer, of his Presentation 
 presentment and his Will, "The Will to Life." 
 Nothing had happened. But it would have seemed 
 
 118
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 strange to him had he known that on that very seat, 
 in that very hour and season, almost to the very day, 
 some forty years before, his own father s will to 
 live had ended. 
 
 XX 
 
 COMING back to the enormous dreary dining 
 room, Austin, conducted as a lonely male to 
 an inconspicuous table in the rear, was surprised at 
 a figure he saw at a table near by, covered, like his 
 own, with breakfast things, only near a window and 
 not, as it appeared, reserved for men only. Surely 
 he could not be mistaken it was Miss Aylwin. 
 What could she be doing here! 
 
 Miss Aylwin (no one, unless perhaps it were Mr 
 Gresham himself, knew her first name) was a quiet, 
 very beautiful young lady, still young, but who for 
 ten years past had been the most trusted stenog 
 rapher, bookkeeper, clerk, in their law office. It was 
 not the custom to have women stenographers in 
 important New York law offices ; but to her the most 
 momentous documents foreclosure suits, applica 
 tions for receiverships, motions for injunction were 
 intrusted for their typewriting and copying, in those 
 secret copy books to which she only, and the firm 
 members themselves, had access. Often in her 
 
 119
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 locked desk if not in her mind Miss Aylwin kept 
 secrets which meant millions of loss or gain to one 
 who prematurely used them. Old Mr Gresham used 
 to assert that there was no safer confidential clerk 
 than a good woman. He had brought the girl, 
 when she was hardly twenty, from the little Hamp 
 shire country town where he was born ; and intro 
 duced her to the partners with only the one word of 
 explanation that she was a woman who wished to 
 support two infirm parents and needed, for doing 
 this, a city salary. And she had grown to the place 
 so that she now kept the boxes and envelopes of Mr 
 Gresham s most confidential affairs ; the bookkeep 
 ing, petty cash, and salaries were intrusted to her 
 as paymaster. She had gained the confidence of all ; 
 so much so that the little disputes or jealousies of 
 the office force, ambitions for higher wages, claims 
 as to precedence, were by common consent intrusted 
 to her for settlement: so much so that even the more 
 frivolous Radnor would admit though ascribing it 
 avowedly to feminine lack of interest in business 
 rather than to feminine discretion as to secrets in 
 trusted to her that she was the safest confidential 
 clerk they had. But woe be to the clerk or visitor 
 whom even Radnor had caught presuming to admire 
 Miss Aylwin s exterior, presuming to comment on 
 her very existence! As for the underlings, not one 
 
 120
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 of them but was her devoted slave. It happened 
 there was no one of an age to be in love with her; 
 between the partners and the official old bookkeeper 
 and the managing clerk there was no one until you 
 came to the students and the office boy except in 
 deed the scrivener (conveyancing clerk they called 
 him), who, having in vain laid his affections at Miss 
 Aylwin s feet, was now making her the confidante of 
 his more successful overtures to a young lady of 
 his own class in Orange. 
 
 What could she be doing here? Austin rose: 
 then some instinct or impulse he thought he saw 
 a slight flushing in her averted face made him 
 hesitate. Just then the negro clattered down with 
 the dozen oval dishes that contained Austin s break 
 fast, and he availed himself of this incident to cover 
 his retreat. It never for one moment occurred to 
 him to question Miss Aylwin s reasons for being 
 there. If the Ocean House, at Newport, was not a 
 natural sanatorium for aged parents, it was doubt 
 less that they were housed near by. Or, if it did 
 not seem the quietest, or even the safest, resort for 
 a young working woman on her vacation, he doubted 
 not there was some other natural cause. As far as 
 the expense mattered, he knew that her salary was 
 ample to afford it. After all, a lady of thirty might, 
 in America, go where she liked. When he left the 
 9 121
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 hall he was careful not to meet her eye ; though he 
 could not help noticing that she was very prettily, 
 quietly dressed in white, and had at her waist a 
 bunch of very lovely roses. The next morning he 
 applauded himself for his resolution when he saw 
 that she had changed her seat to the most distant 
 table. It was evident that her desire was, by him, 
 to be unobserved. 
 
 " Mr Miles Breese was to be heard of," his part 
 ner s letter ran, " by applying to the head clerk of 
 the Ocean House." So, coming out of the breakfast 
 room, he left with that gentleman an envelope con 
 taining his card. Then he wrote his letters ; and 
 about noon betook himself to Clery s cottages, where 
 Daisy, still in her dressing sack, received him. 
 Dorothy, she explained, had a headache and was not 
 yet up. Austin had recently been taught the lesson 
 not to disturb her at her toilet; so he entertained 
 himself and his sister-in-law as best he might until, 
 after one o clock, Dorothy came down. At half past 
 one they had a lunch engagement at a very great 
 house, which, though of highest interest to Austin s 
 wife, has none for Austin s story. At three they 
 returned, finding Daisy, who had made a moue at 
 being left behind alone, now radiant in the company 
 of a social Personage. It was Mr Killian Van Kull. 
 He had asked her, it appeared, to take the ocean 
 
 122
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 drive with him; and she looked to Dorothy, it ap 
 peared, for a perfunctory consent. To Austin s 
 surprise, his wife did not withhold it ; he hardly saw 
 his way to overruling them both in the man s pres 
 ence. There was no time to pretend a headache; 
 the T-cart, groom, and pair were there; the best he 
 could do was to alter the plan to quieter Purgatory, 
 and say that he and his wife would drive there too, 
 and bring the tea basket. The Personage took it 
 indifferently, as an old player who has read his 
 junior s hand. Driving behind them, though already 
 not in sight, Austin tried his best to speak to his 
 wife kindly and gravely. 
 
 " Dorothy, you cannot mean to marry your sister 
 to Van Kull and I am sure he does not mean to 
 marry her." 
 
 " You need not worry about Daisy," she answered 
 pointedly. " Kill Van Kull is fifty or more ; when 
 he takes up a young girl coming out, it makes her 
 reputation." 
 
 " And how much does he leave her when he is 
 through with her? " But at this Dorothy was jus 
 tifiably angry ; and their afternoon was not a suc 
 cess. Van Kull but set down Daisy at their door, 
 returning ; the child was in a bad temper ; Dorothy s 
 headache grew intolerable ; she begged him (they had 
 no engagement that night, and her health on such 
 
 123
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 occasions was never good) to take his dinner at the 
 Ocean House. They were going to have tea and go 
 to bed at eight, she averred. 
 
 The weight of hopeless, irremediable loneliness 
 settled down on Austin s soul. It was a relief, after 
 dinner, as he sat smoking his cigar upon the vast 
 veranda, to have a waiter bring a card to him: Mr 
 Miles Breese. It had in one corner, " Columbian 
 Club," and bore a delicate rim of mourning. Aus 
 tin arose to greet its owner, who followed a purple- 
 veined, white mustached old man with a foggy voice 
 close behind. 
 
 " Ah, Mr Pinckney, how are you, how are you? " 
 said the voice. " Any relation to the Pinckney s of 
 South Carolina? Father? Indeed. Have heard of 
 him, have heard of him threw his life away threw 
 his life away. Well, some of us haven t done much 
 better with ours ; had a good time though, heh ! heh ! 
 Be virtuous and you won t even be happy, my experi 
 ence. Well, well Mr. Gresham, who has been kind 
 enough to act as my man-of-business Have a 
 drink?" 
 
 Austin, who wondered that Mr Gresham could 
 stand being referred to in that capacity, declined. 
 
 " Well, well I m a Marylander myself, and I 
 find Waiter ! Nothing so good to talk busi 
 ness on as a little old Baltimore rye Where was 
 
 124
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 I? Oh, yes. Your Mr Gresham has been kind 
 enough to look after my money matters Neces 
 sary, eh? in these days Our fortunes not what 
 they used to be, we old families An honest law 
 yer s the noblest work, as I say, of man! ha, ha! 
 And your firm breeds em, by gad ! I never ought 
 to have left them. Did you ever hear of a man 
 named Tamms ? " 
 
 " I have," said Austin, somewhat startled. 
 
 "Or Markoff?" 
 
 " I have," said Austin, still more startled. 
 
 " Clean-cut young fellow Harvard man, he 
 says. Never had the advantage of a college educa 
 tion myself. Didn t care much for such things in 
 the South before the war. Well, some of the fellows 
 up at the club got to saying you ought to tie up to 
 some pushing firm ; railroad men, you know, put you 
 up to things make their fortune and yours, too 
 I don t mean points, but the real ground floor. You 
 take the profit, and the other fellow keeps the stuff, 
 you understand. And Markoff s sure to give me 
 the straight tip, for he counts on me to put him up 
 for the Columbian. Ever hear of the Allegheny 
 Pacific?" 
 
 " Very lately," said Austin. 
 
 " Well, he got me an underwriting interest in 
 their bonds and they haven t gone up as we expected. 
 
 125
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 But he says they re all right, and it s not so much 
 that as Allegheny Central 
 
 "Allegheny Central?" 
 
 " Old Baltimore property, you know. Stock s 
 an heirloom in our best families they never sell. 
 But now Markoff no, Tamms, it is says it s going 
 down. And I may say my whole fortune s in it. 
 After all, the safest investment is the money you ve 
 spent ! " And Mr Breese buried his red face in a 
 goblet. " In these times it s safer to eat your cake 
 than keep it." 
 
 " But we Mr Gresham " Austin began. 
 
 " Well, it s not only, you see, that I ve got to 
 raise some money to take up these bonds, but, if 
 Markoff s right, he s very kind to let me have the 
 tip and get out of the Central stock before the others. 
 And to raise all the money I need my daughter s 
 stock, Gresham insisted, should be put in trust 
 very natural, very proper but he s my co-trustee." 
 
 " I understand," said Austin. 
 
 " She s with me now at the hotel Gad, there s 
 that girl again. Why, do you know her? " 
 
 It was Miss Aylwin, who, passing by them at 
 the main door of the hotel and they say it is not 
 safe for the management of such a caravansary to 
 permit of other entrances than the one front door 
 had, in seeing Austin, too obviously turned her face 
 
 126
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 away. This time she was dressed in a very becoming 
 though modest evening gown ; and another bunch of 
 roses was at her breast. Austin would not lie ; but, 
 fortunately, on his keeping silent, Breese assumed a 
 negative. 
 
 " I d like to be the lucky dog who sends her those 
 flowers every day," and the old man, with an alert 
 ness not to be expected from one of his years, made 
 after her to the door, whence, after a fruitless glance 
 down either hall, he returned with a sigh to order 
 another whisky and soda. 
 
 " She comes here every summer for two weeks. 
 The clerk tells me she is perfectly straight, and no 
 one can find out anything about her. And she 
 always has those flowers Eh ! " 
 
 Mr Breese started as a large, handsome figure 
 emerged from the doorway he had just left. Again 
 he rose, and this time Austin heard a hurried col 
 loquy between them, the lady s tones the loudest. 
 Then he came back, but made no offer to present him 
 to the lady, though Austin could see, from the trem 
 bling of the diamond necklace that lay in her sump 
 tuous figure, that she was offended. 
 
 " It is er Mrs Beaumont," said Mr Breese. 
 " She does not live in the hotel, and I must escort 
 her back she was making a call on a friend. After 
 all, I think we had finished our little talk." 
 
 127
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " I think we had," said Austin dryly. 
 
 " Glad to meet you any time in a social 
 way 
 
 For one so versed in the ways of the world, Mr 
 Breese got himself off rather awkwardly. The 
 woman seemed nearly fifty, and was rouged and 
 powdered. Austin watched the old man lay, with 
 shaking fingers, a lace scarf around her monstrous 
 bust, and then, as they got to the darkness of the 
 sidewalk, give her his arm and march her hurriedly 
 away. His own opinion of this latest specimen of 
 the firm s clients was not free of some disgust. 
 
 XXI 
 
 THE following Sunday Austin did not get to 
 Newport; he had to make a trip to a New 
 Hampshire manufacturing village ; and then, early 
 in September, he had to make a longer journey, on 
 the affair of a South Carolina railroad. Both ex 
 periences left a lasting impression. Nauchester, 
 with its twenty mills and twenty thousand mill girls 
 a life gregarious, immodest not, perhaps, im 
 moral, but what was the sense of maidenly reserve in 
 a hive of mill boarding houses, where twenty thou 
 sand healthy young women thronged the streets of 
 
 128
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 a city with hardly as many score of men? To be 
 sure, many of the girls were French Canadian ; but 
 many were American, girls from the hill towns in the 
 neighborhood; and these, of all, were the loudest 
 spoken, he observed, when he had the curiosity to 
 visit, in the evening, one of the saloons they most 
 frequented. The ten hours in the mill did not seem 
 to have exhausted their vitality. The few other 
 young men in the place, addressed by their nick 
 names and the subject of continual chaff, seemed 
 cowed. They, the girls, were only eating ice cream, 
 to be sure; though a couple of the boldest accosted 
 him, wanting to know whether he would " shout " 
 for " steins." 
 
 To Pinckney, a South Carolinian born with all 
 a Jeffersonian s hatred of factory civilization, it all 
 was horrible ; the herded life, the miscegenation, as it 
 were, of all personality, though all of one sex, seemed, 
 to a born individualist, poisonous to the soul. Yet 
 it may be doubted if the tariff only deserved the curse 
 he mentally invoked upon it. The lonely social life 
 of the agricultural New Hampshire town, unbraced, 
 unguarded even by a Nauchester public opinion, had 
 reached, perhaps, a baser domestic level. Nor, if we 
 may trust Thomas Hardy s account of rural English 
 Wessex, are things much better there. And in driv 
 ing, on that afternoon, to the remote mountain water 
 
 129
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 power where the mill lay to which his business called 
 him (a pretty white-painted hamlet, nestling amid 
 green hills, with a sparkling white waterfall in the 
 ferny gorge at its knees), he had been horrified at 
 the information volunteered by the beardless young 
 philosopher who drove his buggy. " Millsted," he 
 had said, " is a good town ; but in this place not a 
 single girl is straight." For the life of him, Austin 
 could not resist the question, Why? but the eighteen- 
 year-old youth only shook his head. " Dunno," he 
 answered, biting the rank cigar between his teeth. 
 " In Millsted, they s mostly Catholic ; here they re all 
 American. There ain t no church nor justice, and 
 so the fellows won t marry. You see it s boarded 
 up." And the lad pointed to a dignified old white 
 church that crowned the hill they were descend 
 ing; the gilding was worn off the little belfry dome 
 and a rude unpainted planking nailed across the 
 doors. 
 
 Pinckney had passed the Sunday following again 
 at Newport, hardly with pleasure to himself; and 
 his wife had received with indifference the news that 
 he must now be a fortnight in the South. And there, 
 what a difference ! He had the curiosity to visit, for 
 the first time, his ancestral estate; it lay in a remote 
 sea-cotton country, the low brick colonnaded house 
 abandoned, the Ionic columns rotten, shutters hang- 
 
 130
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 ing loose, the gardens a wilderness, the fish ponds 
 green with scum. It had long since passed out of 
 his family; but the offices, the negro quarters, were 
 fully inhabited by the negroes, peasant proprietors 
 now, healthy, rather insolent, sadly evident of a 
 gradual sinking back to barbarism. Several fam 
 ilies living together, it was hard to pick the husbands 
 and the wives ; and while the daughters were not as 
 bold in manners as the Nauchester operatives, it was 
 obvious that their print cotton wrappers (made per 
 haps in Nauchester) were worn for the sun s heat 
 and not for modesty. Only one inhabitant a 
 white-headed old man who could remember his fam 
 ily and called him Mas r could be called civilized: 
 he still had the education and the breeding acquired 
 in slavery ; and yet he told Austin he would not " go 
 back." No more, thought Pinckney, would the New 
 Hampshire mill girl " go back " to the submissive do- 
 mestic-servanthood of her maiden aunts. After all, 
 who would not say that both were right? It is free 
 dom that humanity must be tried in : humanity, purity, 
 virtue must prove their godhead anew. 
 
 And then he came back North to that civilization 
 which is, we suppose, the best ; to that city which is 
 the summer abode of those who are most fortunate; 
 to the wife that his first youth had loved and he was 
 ashamed that he was not happy. Now came the time 
 
 131
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 of his own vacation ; three whole weeks he had with 
 her and he felt ashamed that he did not love her 
 more! Not that he admitted this thought: he loved 
 her, of course ; more so, almost, when she seemed in 
 different to him ; more so, always, than she loved 
 him ; yet Austin did not deceive himself, he did not 
 love her as he should. He had always been of opin 
 ion that a man was a poor cur who could not continue 
 to love the woman he had made his wife ; it was no 
 excuse that her love for him was waning; the man 
 was blameworthy in that he let it wane. And here 
 was he, deficient in his own poor code ! 
 
 It is true that the presence of her curious sister 
 made it difficult to be expansive. And Dorothy per 
 sistently resisted his suggestion that Daisy might 
 well now rejoin Mrs Somers, who was taking her to 
 the Riviera for the winter, so that there was plenty 
 for her to do at home. Killian Van Kull was still 
 an assiduous visitor; but Dorothy seemed now con 
 vinced that her sister could have no expectations in 
 that quarter. Meantime, it seemed almost as if she 
 used her as a screen to keep him off. For Austin 
 was with them in the cottage now he could not well 
 have stayed three weeks at the hotel without their 
 separation exciting comment and her indifference 
 to him was the more obvious that she had her mo 
 ments of passionate surrender. She was apt to be 
 
 132
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 angry, almost repentant, after these, as if she had 
 committed a wrong. He fancied she had a horror 
 of maternity. 
 
 He could see, in other men s eyes, a horrible 
 simulacrum of the spell she once had wrought with 
 him. She was very different, dressed, and away 
 from home. She was radiant, dazzling, on grand 
 occasions Mrs Rastacq s dinners, Mrs Gower s bal 
 poudre, Jimmy de Witt s theatricals. Austin would 
 sit opposite her and admit intellectually her 
 charm. It was greater even than when he married 
 her. Her charm had never been the attraction of 
 the ingenue. As a maid she had been languid, awk 
 ward ; but as a married girl her pallid beauty had 
 the salt, the piquancy of a Marguerite Gautier. 
 It seemed to have a conscious malice: it was the eye 
 that knew, the lips that hinted kisses. Men went 
 crazy men like Van Kull in particular crazy 
 about her. She was tingling with her successes, 
 and did not half know why. In truth she was far 
 more innocent than she seemed to them. And she 
 had as they would find if they ventured a certain 
 physical daintiness, an ermine-like shrinking from 
 dirt that might serve as well as modesty : rather a 
 purity of body than of mind. 
 
 Morbidly, he studied her effect on other men 
 that physical beauty which no longer moved him. 
 
 133
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 God! was this all his love had been? He watched 
 her one night it was at Mrs Gower s bal poudre 
 she was leaning, in a white brocade with small pale 
 roses for a pattern, against a white pillar, her hair 
 powdered white, yet none of all so white as her white 
 skin, shown boldly against the white gown and the 
 pale roses at her breast. Her little white slipper 
 was tapping impatiently below her rose-silk ankle, 
 and Van Kull was standing behind her. She had 
 realized her ambition of being thin ; and as Austin 
 watched her, she bent her head; Van Kull looked at 
 her. Puh! Had he, Austin Pinckney, ever looked 
 like that? At her? At Mrs Rastacq, perhaps, that 
 other night. Was his moral nature sinking? Was 
 he but an animal, after all unhappy, now that he 
 had lost a mate? No, animals were true to their 
 mates. 
 
 And Pinckney vowed to be true to her ; and turned 
 away, too proud to watch his wife, now that he was 
 conscious he was doing it. He was far too proud 
 to have any doubt of her mere fidelity. The Pinck 
 ney men were not in the habit of doubting their 
 wives, and had seldom suffered for it. No, he felt 
 it was himself that was at fault. 
 
 At four in the morning a footman found him 
 and asked if he were Mr Pinckney? Madame had 
 sent to find him. He followed. Dorothy was alone 
 
 134
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 in a room opening into a tent upon the lawn ; she 
 looked nervous, almost as if she had been crying, and 
 begged to go home! In the carriage she let him 
 kiss her. And Austin prayed, that night, that he 
 might that they might win their love again. 
 
 XXII 
 
 THE summer had not done much for Dorothy s 
 health ; she complained of being physically 
 tired, and Austin volunteered to go home and open 
 the house for her while she rested another week at 
 Newport. He took Daisy on with him so that Doro 
 thy for one week might be quite alone, as she had 
 said she needed. He put his sister-in-law on the 
 Pennsylvania train ; and then set about getting 
 servants for the empty house. For Dorothy, who 
 was saving in such ways, had dismissed them all when 
 she closed the house for the summer. He made quite 
 a fete of getting the house ready, seeing that every 
 thing was swept and garnished, buying even some 
 articles of old furniture that Dorothy had coveted 
 in the windows of a shop on University Place. And 
 when she arrived, one bright afternoon in early Octo 
 ber, the house was spick and span and full of flow 
 ers. " It is good to be home," she said, and began 
 
 135
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 opening the pile of letters that lay on her dressing 
 table. There did not seem to be anything of inter 
 est in them, for her spirits visibly fell. Austin pro 
 posed the theatre for the evening, but Dorothy was 
 too tired. 
 
 The next day Austin had to make up for lost 
 time at the office. The affairs of the Allegheny Cen 
 tral had come to the firm from another source than 
 Mr Breese, and Austin was trying hard to find out 
 what was really doing in that property. It was 
 known that Phineas Tamms had acquired possession 
 of a narrow-gauge line in eastern Ohio, running from 
 Belief ontaine to the great trunk line, which he had 
 now grandiloquently entitled the Allegheny Pacific, 
 and was said to be changing its gauge ; it was sur 
 mised that he desired to lease it to the Central, but 
 he had no interest in the latter road, and, meantime, 
 its stock still went down, down. True, the inspired 
 financial papers that had advertised its bonds had 
 pointed out that by constructing the Bellefontaine 
 spur westward to a point where it met again the 
 Allegheny Central on its northward curve, it might 
 become part of a shorter line than any now existing 
 between Baltimore and Chicago ; but (as Mr Radnor 
 said to their greatest client, Levison Gower, the rail 
 road millionaire) " a fellow who had found a bung- 
 hole might as well say, * Come, let s build a barrel 
 
 136
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 round it. Allegheny Central is good enough for 
 me." But " Lucie " Gower, who had an excellent 
 head and whose judgment was taken in Wall Street 
 with a respect that would have astonished the friends 
 of his early days uptown, said again he didn t like 
 it. " It had a kind of falling sickness." His own 
 vast fortune was in the New York railroads, but his 
 wife, through her old ownership of Starbuck Oil, 
 had been always one of its largest stockholders. Yet 
 very little was known of the real control ; presumably 
 it still rested in Baltimore, the birthplace of the vast 
 enterprise. 
 
 Austin was still thinking of these things, and had 
 just dismissed with a smile to his tired self the 
 thought of asking direct of his old friend Markoff, 
 when his wife met him at the door. Her animation 
 had all returned. " See," she said, holding up a 
 telegram. " An invitation from Mrs Gower to spend 
 two weeks at Lenox." It ran: 
 
 " Can you and Mr Pinckney come up for two 
 weeks? Private car leaves Grand Central at four 
 on Friday! Do come, even if he can only take Sun 
 days. Answer Flosheim." Flosheim the name a 
 barbaric compound of Flossie Gower s own creation 
 was her Lenox place. Their grand house was on 
 the Hudson ; but Lucie had recently purchased a 
 small mountain in the Berkshires and given it to his 
 10 137
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 wife. She had promptly taken out a fashionable 
 architect and a New York landscape gardener, where, 
 without, it would seem, a glance at the surrounding 
 scenery, the one had leveled it off into plate-bandes 
 and fish ponds with pergolas, and the other had con 
 structed a marble reproduction of Azay-le-Rideau, 
 looking about as appropriate amid the shaggy Ap 
 palachian forests as that smug, smart, modern band 
 box now planted amid the gray historic gothic of 
 West Point. 
 
 " Dorothy, you are not going so soon ? " he 
 could not help answering. She looked at him in 
 amazement. 
 
 " Of course I am. Why, Austin, the mountain 
 air is just what I need, after Newport. But you 
 never want me to have a good time! And you must 
 come, too. Why, Austin, Lucie Gower could make 
 your fortune." 
 
 Austin looked as if he did not wish to have his 
 fortune made that way. " I can t possibly come 
 this week or any day now but a Saturday to Mon- 
 day " 
 
 " Come next week, then. You see, Mrs Gower 
 doesn t mind And Dorothy went off on the day 
 following. 
 
 They had a belated hot spell that week, and Aus 
 tin worked each day till his dinner, which he took, 
 
 138
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 late and lonely, at the club. Sometimes, for the 
 mere show of company, he would go to an Italian 
 restaurant, where ladies also dined mostly artists, 
 singers, newspaper women that world which owes a 
 precarious subsistence (precarious in America) to 
 the amusement of the rich. " Ze reech here in Amer 
 ica are hard to amuse," said a leading lady from the 
 Odeon, that he met through her physician, a friend 
 of his own. " Zey do not know enough." For, 
 although the ladies of their own world were, like 
 Austin s, out of town, at Tuxedo, in the Berkshires, 
 or " entertaining " in their grand new places, their 
 men the money getters, bankers, lawyers, brokers, 
 all but the most fashionable clergymen or doctors 
 were all now hard at work in the city. It was nat 
 ural to foregather with clever women. So Austin 
 would perhaps end the evening at some roof garden 
 or smoking concert. He was too tired to think. 
 Nay, he did not want to think. John Haviland tried 
 to interest him in politics, in college settlements, in 
 his Bowery clubs, in other wise civilizing missions. 
 But Austin had recurred to his mood of Nauchester 
 or South Carolina he doubted if they had a pattern 
 to civilize up to. He laughingly told John how his 
 old negroes had solved the problem of " Civilization 
 its Cause and Cure " and that the Nauchester 
 mill girls were the product of free libraries. As for 
 
 139
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 his politics (John was a Republican), he was a De- 
 march, not an Oligarch. But Haviland knew there 
 was something behind all this. He told Brandon 
 he was afraid that Austin was losing his grip ; and 
 the Major took it testily, as he always did any refer 
 ence, however indirect, to Austin and Dorothy s 
 affairs. 
 
 In truth, our hero was sick at heart. The world 
 held out, not only no hope of joy that perhaps 
 were to be borne but no faith in human hearts. 
 The second week John, too, was away, and he worked 
 the harder, interspersing his labors now and then 
 with a dash to a summer theatre. He was just 
 about up to the ethical ideals of the American vaude 
 ville, he said to himself. One night Sammy Eck 
 stein the actors lawyer, half in society, half among 
 actresses, an odious beast he thought him showed 
 to him, with a grin, a copy of The Town Woman; 
 it was at the Bohemian Club, where they took that 
 paper. " Didn t know your wife was in the Berk- 
 shires." 
 
 " Didn t know you knew my wife at all." Aus 
 tin was tired and out of temper 
 
 " Only as a public character," said Eckstein, 
 and he tossed the paper to him. Austin read the 
 paragraph at a glance before he crumpled up the 
 paper in the wastebasket : " The Inseparable Exclu- 
 
 140
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 svces. At Flosheim, Mr Arthur Holyoke and Mrs 
 * Baby Malgam ; Mr Tony Duval and Mrs Ras- 
 tacq ; Mr Kill Van Kull and the new beauty 
 Dotty Pinckney. Mrs Gower s unacknowledged 
 cousin, Mrs Beaumont, has to stay at Newport 
 with Mr Breese." 
 
 It was a simple piece of vulgarism; but Austin 
 knew that the much-abused press is rarely vulgarly 
 familiar with persons who do not vulgarly invite it. 
 But he had thought Dorothy (no one ever called her 
 " Dotty," by the way) had meant to see no more 
 of Van Kull. 
 
 When he came to Lenox, it was seven o clock; he 
 hardly expected to be met at the remote little station, 
 but there seemed to be no public carriage there. In 
 stead, it was Mrs Rastacq who called to him from a 
 little phaeton and pair. " They ve all gone off for 
 the night," she said. " And you re to come with me. 
 They ve got you rooms at Curtis s." Austin, per 
 haps, looked puzzled. " They ve gone on an all- 
 night trip to the ice glen at Stockbridge. That is 
 to say, they start right after dinner and take their 
 supper with them ; and Van Kull swears he means to 
 show them the sunrise. Anyhow, you couldn t pos 
 sibly get nine miles to Flosheim before they start, 
 and there s no sense in your being there alone. So 
 I said I d take pity on you." 
 
 141
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " But why aren t you with them ? " Of course, 
 he got in beside her. 
 
 " Oh, I don t play in -Flossie Gower s menageries. 
 Her hospitality is large, but I prefer my own chez- 
 moi. Her tastes are too Catholic for me. She s got 
 a Jew man with her. The fact is, I don t like her. 
 She took a lover from me once." 
 
 It was more amusing, Austin reflected, than a 
 roof garden, and he breathed deep of the bracing 
 mountain air, while the pretty woman beside him 
 handled cleverly her ponies. " I ve taken a little 
 cottage for three weeks, near the hotel, but I dine 
 there. You can dine with me, if you like. I can 
 hardly put you up at my cottage." Austin has 
 tened to assure her that such had not been his hope. 
 " Well, I think that Flossie Gower hoped I would." 
 
 They stopped at her house, and Austin went to 
 the hotel, where, in incredibly few minutes, she re 
 appeared clothed in a simple, almost girlish robe of 
 white, high at the neck, a rose her only ornament. 
 " I never like to dress for dinner at a hotel." 
 
 After dinner, Austin must go back " to smoke 
 with her," as she said. She, too, took a cigarette; 
 but otherwise, in appearance, she might have been 
 a simple college girl, only that, as it grew cold in 
 the night, she was less self-conscious than a college 
 girl would have been of the manner of holding her 
 
 142
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 pretty ankles to the andirons. But she wanted a 
 good long talk, she said, and would not let him go. 
 She had told him that she wanted to talk to him 
 about his wife, but she did not seem to get upon this 
 subject. At midnight they went out to see the moon 
 rise ; they walked once or twice in the garden ; then 
 he must come back to have some Scotch and soda. 
 After this he rose again to go. But she was talking 
 of herself ; and her manner had become sad. " I 
 want to tell you something more of what I told you 
 at the ball. You have not wrecked your life, as I 
 mine." And Mamie looked, in the dim lamplight, 
 eighteen, as she spoke. " But I cannot bear you 
 should think, as I know you do, it was Charlie Town- 
 ley. We have been speaking of Lionel Derwent 
 you called his life a noble one just now. Well, I 
 might have shared it and I let it go." Mamie s 
 dark eyes were full of tears. 
 
 Any man is moved at being made the subject of 
 a woman s confidence touched, if it be a sad one. 
 Perhaps she meant him to take her hand and tell her 
 so. It lay passive in her lap. She went on in low 
 tones. She told him that her husband and she had 
 nothing in common. One o clock struck; two. She 
 had a marvelous charm of voice yes, of mind. It 
 was a pleasure to be with her. After all, perhaps, 
 pleasure was the only happiness. And as he once 
 
 143
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 more rose to go, she leaned forward slowly, looked 
 up at him and put up her lips for him to kiss 
 them. 
 
 A moment later after a long silence and a " for 
 give me " Austin had flung from the house. 
 
 XXIII 
 
 A SENSE of horror at what he was doing had 
 come over him, the night before, ere even 
 the doing of it; and now, in the pure bright cool 
 of the morning, an unspeakable sense of personal 
 degradation. He had what is not so rare with 
 Americans, particularly those whose youth, with 
 American moral standards, has been further pro 
 tected by foreign conventions not only an entire 
 virginity of mind and body, but an entire respect 
 for and confidence in gentlewomen of his class. To 
 him the sex was divided into the two clear fields of 
 black and white ; and white was pure white, and black 
 could be only black. And yet the horrible, sicken 
 ing remorse he felt was due to no mere prudery, no 
 Joseph-like standard of his own ; it would have been 
 no greater had the one kiss been followed by others ; 
 not the deed, but the fact that he could have done it, 
 now distressed him. No crystal font might now 
 
 144
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 wash the stain from his soul ; he would be " unclean 
 till evening," aye, to the very evening of his life. 
 
 He was not a man who was deluded when judg 
 ment of his own self was concerned. Doubtless she 
 had meant him to kiss her; but doubtless, also, he 
 might not have done so. And with that unhappy 
 self -consciousness that our too much reading throws 
 over all events, even to the simplest, greatest moment 
 of our lives, the surface thought too was grimly 
 present to wonder at the difference he had found 
 was it in him or her? in their case from that of 
 Tristan s or of Paolo s. Mamie s kiss (and she had 
 kissed him) had been as elemental, as intoxicating to 
 his senses (we have said he was a man) as Brunhilde s 
 or as Iseult s and yet her very lips had left on his 
 the quiver of his own contempt. (It may have been 
 who knows? this very quality of his that had 
 been to Mamie the perverse attraction ; certainly it 
 was not commonly believed among her friends that 
 she would go so far ; the coeur de femme, as the 
 French novelist still calls it, is a strange thing.) 
 Had it been followed with the consequences of an 
 Yseult s or a Francesca s even of his own when, that 
 day long gone, he had kissed his wife, then the be 
 trothed of another it would have seemed to him 
 that morning no more wicked, only less vulgar. 
 
 A " bounder " even a Joseph might have also 
 145
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 regretted the way he had flung out of the house. 
 This indeed would have been the first remorse of a 
 Frenchman. Even an Irishman poetizes somewhere 
 about " the unkissed kiss." Austin wasted no re 
 morse on this point ; if you are bolting from a lady s 
 house, any way is the best way. He recognized that 
 Mamie might think him a fool might think him a 
 cad; both positions he accepted with other incidents 
 of the night s work. Nor, in any Joseph Surface s 
 way, did he condemn her. He had let his eyes lin 
 ger on hers, he had flirted with her at the ball, he had 
 let her talk to him of his wife by all the free lance s 
 code he had showed himself fair game. Moreover 
 she had given him fair warning. Her husband was 
 a decayed old roue and she amused herself nay, it 
 were fairer to say interested herself in life that 
 way. Many an old man keeps himself young by his 
 interest in young women ; why not she by hers in 
 men ? She was lonely enough ; she never pretended 
 to be better than the average. Of course she would 
 hate him. (As a matter of fact, Mamie did nothing 
 of the sort; rather felt she justified in her little lik 
 ing for him ; it had begun with malice, ended in 
 liking. She was by no means evil, though enjoying 
 the appearance of it ; and she loved him for running 
 at her approach that way. She now really began 
 to love him a little; there was henceforth a bit of 
 
 146
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 the maternal in it ; anyhow, it is not the love of such 
 as Mamie that hurts ; they do not do their harm by 
 loving. As for remorse does a woman ever feel 
 remorse at a kiss, taken and given? Curious, all the 
 novelists women novelists, licensed revealers of a 
 woman s heart and head, high priestesses of feminine 
 subtlety have never vouchsafed to tell us such a 
 simple fact as this. " La fcmme ne se revele pas" 
 Mamie recognized that for the present she must 
 avoid him ; for all the future, she supposed, he would 
 avoid her. She thought no worse of him for that. 
 Rather was she rejoiced that she had met with such 
 a man. Bon enfant was Mamie; a manly little 
 woman. And that foolish, fire-playing wife of his ! 
 Mamie only played with fire in others. Even with 
 Austin, it may be surmised, had there been a crackle, 
 the wet blanket had been ready.) 
 
 But to Austin s mind, as he walked, sick at heart, 
 all these things were unknown or lightly touched 
 upon. The bare, beast fact remained. He made no 
 effort at sleep ; an ice-cold bath, a cigar, another 
 bath when he rose from his lounge and dressed, and 
 then by sunrise he was in the stable seeking for a 
 horse to carry him away. 
 
 147
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 XXIV 
 
 NO Tannhauser coming out upon the morning 
 mountain could have been less intoxicated, 
 more repentant of the night. It seemed as if the 
 very autumn woods, the leafy brown dells of the 
 brooks, the very flowers by the wayside, could never 
 look the same to him. Berkshire was crimsoned with 
 the same glory that he remembered there, when he 
 had brought his bride, four years before. In what 
 altered heart was he going to meet her now ! And 
 he remembered with a shudder the kiss that he had 
 given her upon that ride. How little, after all, his 
 kisses meant ! or was it that he Pinckney repressed 
 this thought, as one drops a stone back on the curl 
 ing worms of earth. 
 
 As he mounted the Taconic range, the green 
 Stockbridge meadows opened out below; a healthy 
 brown brook crawled, clear as smoky crystal, at his 
 feet; a minute more and he plunged, with the sense 
 of an asylum, into the shaggy forest. When he 
 came out, it was upon the formal, conscious garden 
 ing of Mrs Gower s demesne. The dressed-up 
 flower beds, the artificial play of water, the naked 
 little cupids on the balustrades, out of place enough 
 even in that season, for once seemed less intolerant 
 
 148
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 of his mood ; so the liveried groom that took his 
 horse, the blue and silver-laced footman who led him, 
 through a hall suggesting bals poudres, with its 
 white furnishing and light-lived Boucher panels, to 
 his room. The huge Fragonard on the stairs had 
 for its theme two powdered abbes s-winging a maiden 
 in a low dress, and contemplating, with a delight 
 that made the motif of the picture, her generous 
 calves. Austin reflected on the probable ideals of 
 a household brought up upon this picture ; how gro 
 tesque his self-abasement would have seemed to them, 
 the two relig ieux. To him, however, it was none 
 the less. 
 
 No one was up yet in the great house. Another 
 footman, this time in morning black, brought him 
 coffee in his room, and told him they had not come 
 back till after sunrise. The man unpacked his valise 
 while he took his coffee. " Mrs Pinckney s room is 
 at the end of the entry, sir." Austin dismissed the 
 man, saying he would not disturb her; then he made 
 an entire change in his clothing, as if to remove the 
 day before yet one stage farther off. Then he 
 started for a long tramp up the mountain. 
 
 Coming back, it was after noon ; but he found 
 his wife still at her dressing table, the maid adjust 
 ing finishing touches to her breakfast gown. Re 
 gardless of her presence his wife put up her lips to 
 
 149
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 be kissed ; he pretended not to notice it. " I hope 
 you re not still cross," she said. 
 
 " Cross ? " Austin felt that he could not " make 
 up " in the presence of the maid. 
 
 " You were when I left, you know." Austin 
 gave a brief account of his doings for the past two 
 weeks, and asked for hers. " Oh, not much the 
 usual thing." 
 
 " And was the nocturnal picnic a success ? " 
 Humble enough he felt, God knows, yet could not 
 keep the tone of criticism from his voice. 
 
 " The greatest possible fun. It was all Van 
 Kull s idea and he was delightful." 
 
 " I thought, Dorothy dear, you had come to my 
 opinion of that man." He spoke with all possible 
 gentleness ; but, turning angrily to the maid, she 
 bade her hurry ; then spoke to him coldly : " Your 
 opinions are peculiar. You don t ask me mine of 
 Mamie Rastacq. She was to meet you, he told me 
 you dined with her, I suppose? " 
 
 " I dined with her," said Austin in measured 
 words, " and passed the evening with her." He felt 
 a strong impulse to be wholly truthful to his wife; 
 had the maid not been there, he might have told 
 her all. 
 
 " Oh, I don t care if you passed the night with 
 her." The maid stopped brushing. " Dorothy ! " 
 
 150
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 was all that he could say. And so their meeting 
 ended. Was this the young girl he had known 
 four years before? The coarse thought the even 
 coarser voicing of it ! Yet what was he that he 
 should reprove her for it? He walked softly back 
 through the long hall, before the Fragonard, down 
 the marble steps, and sat in a shaded alley in the 
 garden. This was the nature formed by the life 
 his wife was leading ; this, perhaps, what he, too, was 
 coming to. And again that sense of intolerable per 
 sonal degradation made him wish that ten years of 
 his life might roll by before he faced his work again. 
 A servant announced lunch, and he saw all the 
 party assembled. A feeling as of burnt-out fire 
 works was in the air; the women were all tired, the 
 men silent, if not cross. Flossie Gower alone w r as in 
 her element. It seemed she had not gone to the 
 picnic, but had come down fresh and spent the morn 
 ing gleaning, from the jaded participants, of each 
 the other s adventures. At nearly fifty, Mrs Gow- 
 er s only passion was art ; but she lived, like a para 
 site, upon the passions of others. Tell Mrs Gower 
 that two people were in love, and she would have 
 them at her house parties ; good-naturedly, she liked 
 even making engagements ; but she enjoyed it more 
 when they were married; enjoyed it most, as being 
 more complicated and full of tragic possibility, if 
 
 151
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 one were married and the other not. Flossie now 
 fancied herself like an Este woman of Ferrara ; any 
 how she was quite assured such great dames stood 
 above morality. Secreting some such thought, she 
 looked around her table. The company were rather 
 too wonted. There was Killian, of course but it 
 was the usual thing ; she had asked for him a young 
 girl of twenty, Miss Hope, of Providence, a lovely 
 gentle blonde with five millions, looking as if butter 
 would not melt in her mouth and he would not look 
 at her. She was too marriageable. Then there was 
 Arthur Holyoke -but he was fat and bespoke, and 
 it was only Pussie De Witt, besides. There was 
 Tony Duval, but he frankly avowed his preference 
 for women of another world. She looked at Austin 
 more hopefully. Would he not go fetch Mamie Ras- 
 tacq? She was coming that day to dinner. " I am 
 not good enough for her to sleep here," she laughed. 
 But Austin had promised to go to Lee with Mr 
 Gower. Dorothy had a headache and would not go 
 with anybody. Holyoke and Mrs De Witt were 
 paired ; Van Kull had secured the dogs and a gun for 
 partridges ; so all the fun that Flossie got was seeing 
 Tony left to the schoolgirl. And Lucie, who would 
 have blocked a tete-a-tete with Killian, let them go. 
 He knew there was no harm for her in Tony. Tony 
 only stooped to conquer he never aspired. 
 
 152
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Mr Gower surprised Austin by his interest in 
 the country, in the country people. Mrs Gower 
 treated them as a peasantry, a fact that Lucie seemed 
 conscious of; the men he met, good farmers, sub 
 stantial yeomen many, he all called by name; some 
 even were Tom or Bill to him. " The fact is, we 
 rich people at Lenox do a great deal of harm," he 
 said ; " first, at playing at gentry with them, lastly, 
 I m afraid, by their accepting it." And Austin 
 thought the remark profound. " We should remem 
 ber that these Massachusetts countrymen have not 
 in three hundred years accepted social superiors, and 
 it s only the brute force of money that bends them 
 to it now." 
 
 There was a something kindly, sympathetic about 
 Mr Gower that seemed to bring, in some unexplained 
 manner, its balm to Austin s sore self -consciousness. 
 In the course of the drive he said some pleasant 
 words about Austin s wife; and Austin felt assured 
 that here was a friend, and a friend who was no fool. 
 But who else was there in that household he could 
 trust ? 
 
 Coming home for a late tea, they found that 
 many of the women had already gone up to dress ; 
 for the Austrian Ambassadress had arrived, and 
 something very splendid in the line of toilet was 
 expected that night. On the other hand, Mrs Ras- 
 11 153
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 tacq had telephoned her indisposition. Austin found 
 his wife arrayed in her most open gown and contem 
 plating mutinously the three ropes of modest pearls 
 around her pretty neck. " You should see her dia 
 monds," she said. And indeed it was fortunate she 
 had them on, for, when Austin found himself on the 
 left of the Ambassadress at dinner (for Mrs Gower 
 had chosen to dazzle her youngest man by this close 
 proximity) he could see upon her bosom nothing else, 
 while her back was literally naked to the waist. Yet, 
 thought Austin, how obvious the expert is beside the 
 novice! The Ambassadress (she was a real Ambas 
 sadress, for Carolyi, her husband, was accredited to 
 the Court of St. James and only in Washington upon 
 a special mission) was a professional; beside her all 
 the other women, save Flossie Gower herself, ap 
 peared as amateurs. She came from a Continental 
 air where it was frankly recognized that, as men 
 " got on " by their intellect, so women must get on, 
 and their own wives must get them on, by their 
 charm. And charm and physical allurement become, 
 to the elderly diplomat, synonymous. His, to con 
 ceal the truth, hers, to reveal it, she laughed. Count 
 ess Carolyi was said to have the most beautiful torso 
 in Europe; so just as frankly as he contributed his 
 wit and brains to the dinner table she contributed 
 her undraped figure, with no more thought of any 
 
 154.
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 indecency in her display than in his. Austin, who 
 was the only man at the table whose French was be 
 yond criticism, talked volubly with her in that lan 
 guage; and, for the first time since their marriage, 
 his wife felt rather proud of him. And Austin, per 
 haps, began to wonder whether, after all, he was not 
 morbid. 
 
 They were to have left the next morning, but, 
 after a fruitless expostulation on Austin s part, con 
 ducted at his wife s bedside at the hour of her retir 
 ing, Dorothy had decided to stay on. Austin s tone 
 was not affectionate, only appealing, and Dorothy 
 was fond of announcing that she was led by the affec 
 tions, not to be driven by any taskmaster. Austin 
 (wisely enough, any man of the world might say) 
 had not decided to confide in her, or it all might have 
 ended with her arms around his neck. He felt that 
 he could not go to her so fresh from the other 
 woman s kisses. So, after a quarter of an hour, he 
 left her prevailing; and the demure French maid, 
 waiting outside, gave him a curious look as he passed 
 to his room. Had the Major been there, he would 
 have groaned, " You should have made her come." 
 But to Austin s Southern chivalry was added now 
 his shame. 
 
 So he stayed on the next day, but in a savage 
 mood ; a mood in which a man laughs at consequences ; 
 
 155
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 a mood in which a man may go to the devil. His 
 wife was off with Van Kull ; so he challenged the 
 Austrian lady to a drive, and found her, to his 
 amusement, most definitely aware of the conventional 
 boundaries, and insistent (as perhaps became an 
 Ambassadress) at the very punctus of the frontier 
 line in voies-de-fait, that is: her speech was free. 
 Then at dinner he took too much champagne, did 
 not sleep, and at dawn found himself in a wave of 
 self-contempt again. That night he took his leave; 
 Gower, who seemed to have some curious divina 
 tion of the situation, telling him simply (as was 
 always Lucie s way) that he would take care of his 
 wife. 
 
 In the city, in the honest workaday world, his 
 sanity returned, but with it his sense of degradation. 
 Nor was there meaning in the world, sympathy 
 in things human, or sense of things divine. Work, 
 work, work, the only panacea; work, work, work, for 
 what end ? His wife would bear no children ; he no 
 longer loved his wife. It degraded them both to live 
 together. Pah ! who was he to talk of degradation ? 
 He owed her a duty, if not a reparation. What he 
 had given her was never love. She wanted money ; 
 well, he would try to get it. For him, life held out 
 nothing. 
 
 There was still too much ego in his cosmos, thought 
 156
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 John Haviland, and was disturbed about his friend. 
 But even Grace, with all her gentle comprehension, 
 had ceased to soothe. The strong man was like an 
 angry child. He worked like a machine all day and, 
 as John fancied, half the night; for when he would 
 even come to dine with them, he cut short his cigar 
 and hurried home, as one who has left a job unfin 
 ished. He would drink nothing. And Grace fan 
 cied sadly what the half-made lonely home in 
 Eleventh Street must be ; the days so going by, and 
 Dorothy not coming back. 
 
 Pinckney had had a passion for music; one day, 
 pathetically as Grace Haviland thought, he com 
 plained to her that it no longer spoke to him ; so 
 they persuaded him to come to lunch, one Sunday, 
 and go to a special rendering that was to be given 
 of Tristan, third act, and the Ninth Symphony. 
 Strange tones to be thus coupled together, Austin 
 thought. The only other person present was to be 
 a great friend of Grace s, Miss Ravenel. Her 
 mother, Mrs Breese, had taken her own mother s 
 name. Yes, she was indeed the daughter of old 
 Miles Breese, John said ; the only daughter ; after 
 the only son had died, her mother had got her 
 divorce; and to be near him (for his life made it 
 quite impossible she should be with him, of which 
 luckily the poor loyal child was ignorant) she sup- 
 
 157
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 ported herself in the winter, in New York, by giving 
 lessons. " Poor girl," said Austin, remembering 
 what he had seen at Newport. 
 
 It was the Sunday ; and with all his trouble, Aus 
 tin had no heart for church. Had he done so, it 
 being the twenty-first Sunday after Trinity, he 
 might have heard a word to his address a collect 
 asking only for pardon and peace and, all sins 
 cleansed, to serve God with a quiet mind but still 
 on that morning, near the thirtieth year of his life, 
 Austin had not, not even more than Dorothy, been 
 led to the thought of simple service. Instead, the 
 cloud of his sin uncleansed was on him and he fought, 
 manlike, against it with the legs of a horse riding 
 far out into the Westchester highlands and return 
 ing at dusk through the softly freezing streets un- 
 assuaged. As the soon sun set in its burnished still 
 ness, already wintry, his horse came to a walk. 
 To-day, at last, it seemed to him as if the peace of 
 God might be on earth for others if not for him. 
 He had come to the thought of " service " but not 
 yet of the " quiet mind." 
 
 He was late and dressed hurriedly, but was at 
 John Haviland s for the early dinner. In the dusk 
 of the narrow New York drawing-room a slender 
 black figure rose to greet him. " Grace is not down 
 yet," she said simply. " I am Mary Ravenel." She 
 
 158
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 was a very beautiful young girl* and as Austin 
 looked at her, perhaps too earnestly, it was evident 
 that she, at least, had a quiet mind. Their talk at 
 dinner was of real things unheard since many weeks 
 by Austin John Haviland, principally of the way 
 to combat socialism on the stump ; Miss Ravenel, of 
 its effect upon the ideals of the very poor. It 
 appeared (as Grace told Austin later) that be 
 sides her paying classes about half her work was 
 done for love. For a young girl of twenty, she 
 seems strangely mature, thought Austin ; and he 
 stopped his own, to hear her thoughts instead. 
 But when both he and John so stopped, she be 
 came suddenly shy and reddened slightly, as any 
 girl might. 
 
 At the Metropolitan, where they had a box, the 
 light was dim, and Austin caught himself watching 
 the young girl s profile. It was a Sunday night 
 audience, so they could, fortunately, listen. Austin 
 noticed that she was not so much moved by Tristan. 
 The long, lonely invocation of the loyal Kurwenal 
 the iterated, weeping cadences of the lonely sound 
 ing horn still the sea is empty moved her a little ; 
 the sad echoes of the joyous arrival song in Cornwall 
 long ago, at last the great cries of the dying hero, 
 she heard with parted lips. And then Sie kommt! 
 Sie kommt, a sail ! His own heart leaped within him 
 
 159
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 as it had been wont, at those marvelous joy notes, to 
 leap in his dreaming youth. 
 
 Austin suddenly started at the thought that his 
 music was coming back to him: and this was now 
 made sure. For Yseult s death chant, joyously sur 
 mounting, slow, quiet in beginning, then swelling to 
 the passion of the joy of death suddenly tingled in 
 his eyelids ; thank God ! he felt, still tears were there. 
 But she, her clear eyes seemed untroubled still she 
 did not understand this Euthanasia of elemental 
 love, unchristian, unconfined in duty. 
 
 It was Beethoven (he could see) that touched her 
 heart. Here was the love divine; here was the joy 
 of life. Not joy alone in death; in life, as the God 
 of Christ hath willed. Here was no pagan frenzy ; 
 sane and normal, yet infinite as the human soul, he 
 heard, as he watched her face, the mighty climax of 
 the last movement swell until the poet s ecstasy 
 breaks into human voices and the joy of heaven 
 stands revealed to earth. 
 
 They walked home, saying very little; and then 
 Austin found the way none too long to Eleventh 
 Street. Thank Heaven for its music! It had 
 stanched his wounds ; his sins, though scarlet, might 
 yet be as the wool ; his soul once more be shriven. 
 And Austin, that night, again prayed: for himself, 
 for his wife. No more the dreadful sense of degra- 
 
 160
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 dation was present ; it had been, it should be no more. 
 It was God s music had done this : that night at last, 
 no longer conscious of his shame, of his despair, of 
 his selfish sorrows but only of 
 
 " L Amor che muove il sol e gl altre stelle." 
 
 161
 
 BOOK TWO 
 
 Vuolsi cost cola dove si puote 
 do che si vuole. ." Dante.
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 XXV 
 
 THOSE who have ever had a vital illness may 
 remember how, on the morning of the day 
 that it came on, there was a curious tremor in the 
 sky, a curious unreality in the apperceptions of 
 things on earth. It is as if the pulses, conscious 
 of the coming evil, seek to weave their web across 
 realities as the gauze veil is drawn across the scene 
 in a stage play. So, with increasing fever, the mists 
 grow thicker before the patient s eyes, until, with 
 the coming of night again, comes the full delirium 
 that may be the end. For of such stuff are dreams, 
 but all our life is rounded with them. 
 
 And the next day the great city was veiled in 
 snow. Like a bride or better, like a penitent 
 woman at her next communion in the snow she knelt 
 shriven of her sins. But above, the vault of our 
 Western blue sparkled, glorious, golden one can 
 not forget Foe s immortal collocation and to Aus 
 tin the air of this Monday morning blew like a bugle 
 call. It was a day, for him, of glorious battle: in 
 the highest tribunal of the land but one, he was to 
 argue a cause in which (as is not, despite the cynic 
 critics of his calling, always the case in lawsuits) 
 the Right was imperiled : it was a question of a wife, 
 
 165
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 deserted by her husband, mother of his children, 
 now confronted with the loss of heritage and home 
 at the greed of his latest mistress, setting up, after 
 his death, a South Dakota divorce. Pinckney, amid 
 the definite miseries of the last few days, had counted 
 not the least that he had felt himself unworthy, in 
 his state of mind and heart, to champion these lists. 
 Fortunately, to-day, the wonderful air was to his 
 nerves like wine ; the mists of yesterday had vanished 
 at the northwest wind; in his head there rang un 
 wonted music his old favorite of all, Palestrina s 
 hymn of Victory, and then again (as he had seen 
 them through the night) the choruses of the Ninth 
 Symphony, like visions of angels " in strong, level 
 flight." And in the court he pleaded against the 
 constitutional State right of South Dakota to grant 
 divorces (well argued by Markoff on the other side), 
 the higher constitutional, even the sovereign nay, 
 the human right of the people of New York to 
 speak, through her laws, for purity of life, to 
 strengthen the steps of her citizens in Christian liv 
 ing, to sanctify by irrevocable vows the surrender of 
 the maiden, reward the truth of the wife, protect 
 the mother of her children in her honesty and in 
 her home. And when Austin had finished, the pre 
 siding justice, a member of the highest earthly 
 court, called him to the bar and publicly compli- 
 
 166
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 mented him ; and even Markoff, rolling up his pa 
 pers, knew that he was worsted, and felt little con 
 fidence even in his last appeal, by writ that " error 
 had been done," to the Supreme Court of the United 
 States. 
 
 Going back to his office, Austin found Mr 
 Gresham awaiting him. Some kindly impulse made 
 him stop and say a word to Miss Aylwin, as he went 
 by the outer room. She flushed and colored and 
 spoke for a moment brokenly. Austin wondered if 
 she had been fearful, doubting what he might tell 
 about their meeting at Newport ; it was true, he had 
 not found occasion to speak to her since. How 
 heedless we are of the sensitiveness of others, in our 
 hurry, in our consciousness of general good inten 
 tion! Why, Austin felt, he had no more doubted 
 Miss Aylwin than than anyone. He was sorry for 
 her ; the world presented so hard a side to her gentle 
 beauty ; even if she only went there for her pleasure. 
 Mr Gresham complimented Austin on his success, of 
 which he had already heard ; even Judge Blandford 
 had thought it worth while to telephone him a mes 
 sage of congratulation. 
 
 " He has no doubt of the decision and says 
 there s no chance of a reversal." 
 
 " Or certiorarl ? " 
 
 " They ll never grant it, after two findings on 
 . 167
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 the facts. But I want to talk about Allegheny Cen 
 tral " 
 
 " I had some talk about it with Mr Breese at 
 Newport 
 
 " Mr Breese is a very small factor at present. 
 Our duty is toward a larger public. The stock 
 holders have formed a protective committee, which 
 we represent. Now, you know young Markoff, and 
 I know his client, Mr Phineas Tamms. They claim 
 that he has secured control." 
 
 "Can he have?" 
 
 " I don t see how it s possible. The stock is in 
 the strong boxes of the widows and orphans of Bal 
 timore and Philadelphia or should be. That time 
 in the panic when the Starbuck oil plant was burned 
 must have taught them a lesson. Even then, Wall 
 Street dealt largely on paper. It would have trou 
 bled Deacon Remington at any time to deliver 
 all the stock he sold. But Tamms has got 
 himself elected president. And Chestnut Street 
 and South Street are shaken to their founda 
 tions." 
 
 " Haviland s house has connections there," said 
 Austin. " I ll ask him." 
 
 " No use of asking Markoff, I suppose? " 
 
 " I knew him at college," said Austin dryly. 
 
 " I sent for Tamms to come to this office yester- 
 168 -
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 day. He didn t dare not come. There was a rumor 
 that they were about to issue twenty millions of pre 
 ferred four per cent stock, ostensibly for the pur 
 chase of his Allegheny Pacific the old Belief ontaine 
 branch." 
 
 " He undoubtedly owns that," said Austin. 
 
 " Of course it would render the old common stock 
 it has paid its eight per cent for forty years 
 almost valueless. I told him that it would be a 
 fraud, a moral fraud 
 
 Austin bit his lip at the adjective. "And what 
 did he say? " 
 
 " He said that he was acting in everything under 
 the advice of counsel." 
 
 " Suppose he only leases his road for four per 
 cent on twenty millions," said Austin. " Where are 
 we better off? " 
 
 " A lease can be enjoined a lease can be an 
 nulled. Whereas the stock once issued in the 
 hands of the innocent purchaser 
 
 " Oh, the innocent purchaser," said Austin. He 
 had a letter in his pocket from Dorothy ; it did not 
 tell him much about her affairs, but said that Mark- 
 off to her evident surprise had come to be of the 
 house party. He was much improved. And he 
 had told her that Allegheny Pacific, then selling in 
 the twenties, was bound for a great rise. 
 12 169
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " Can t you make it worth your while to go on 
 to Baltimore?" said Gresham, as Austin followed 
 out his own reflections. 
 
 But he did not want to go to Baltimore just 
 then. " I ll see Hnviland first." 
 
 " Thank you," said old Mr Gresham, always 
 deferent of others. And Austin, modestly conscious 
 that he had earned his afternoon, took the train for 
 a little place he knew in the lower Hudson Highlands. 
 He felt a sort of youthful Siegfried hunger for 
 more achievement. Bars of the joy of Beethoven 
 still were ringing in his sky. At Alpine he left the 
 train and enjoyed a furious tramp through the al 
 ready crisp snow, through the pine woods, above the 
 Palisades, in sunset, and in twilight, and in evening. 
 At last, he came out upon the cliffs opposite New 
 York. It was ebon night ; but above the great city 
 the stars faded in the glare of its own electric lights. 
 Its myriad little window lights domestic, these 
 twinkled faintly, like the softer radiance of the 
 Milky Way, lost in the planetary blaze. He tried 
 to make out the neighborhoods there, of course, 
 was the Madison Square tower, an easy point to start 
 from. Above, on Murray Hill, Park Avenue, was 
 John Haviland s ; below, in the very center of the 
 island, his own house ; it would now be dark. He 
 wondered where Suddenly, far to the east, in the 
 
 170
 
 rising moon, he noticed the silver shining of the 
 Sound. 
 
 To-night there was nothing for him but the club. 
 He felt too young for its repose, too intolerant of 
 its tattle. What did other people do who must have 
 lonely evenings? The Hoboken ferryboat was full 
 of happy young people going to the play: he took 
 pleasure in their pleasure; was it not well earned? 
 They had done their daily labor ; so had he. And 
 now, man and maid, they were seeking that drama 
 which perhaps was never to be theirs ; the world to 
 them, of romance the Play or even if but pleas 
 ure, what harm? A fairy spectacle may be ideal 
 enough to one who has had to bend her steady eyes, 
 eleven hours, above one part of one machine. Aus 
 tin loved to look at them. Then, too, there was the 
 working suburban with his wife, going, these, too, 
 to the play, citizens, fathers, and thoughtful voters 
 we may hope ; and going each with his own wife not 
 as it would have been in Mrs Gower s circle, which 
 looked down on them and called them " commuters " 
 contemptuously The term had been invented by 
 the cynical Sun, but had been adopted with enthu 
 siasm by that set who, perchance, living themselves 
 in flats, hovered from New York to Newport or to 
 Aiken or to Monte Carlo who would have invited 
 a dago princelet before Ben Franklin to their draw- 
 
 171
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 ing-rooms hired, these latter, at a restaurant. 
 Commuters, forsooth! American householders as 
 for Mrs Gower and her set, they were what was 
 the old English term? Potwallopers and Austin 
 laughed at the phrase, and saved it up for Lucie, 
 when he should see that honest fellow again only 
 T. Levison-Gower, despite his name, parted in the 
 middle, as the vernacular goes, was no " potwal- 
 loper," but a full-bred American citizen, his roots 
 planted firmly in the soil of Berkshire County, Mass. 
 " Potwalloper " a man who boiled his pot in a city 
 once a year and therefore claimed the right of free 
 man there. John Haviland was no potwalloper. 
 The worst, perhaps, he knew was old Antoine Ras- 
 tacq born heaven knew where, he owned estates in 
 Greece, was bred in Pau and Newport his king 
 dom, not in heaven, nor, any longer, in his restless 
 wife s heart Shuffling still, with his locomotor 
 ataxia, to each fashionable ball, making a collection 
 of the portraits of pretty young girls How his 
 wife must now despise him and Austin had a mo 
 ment s understanding even of poor Mamie of her 
 hatred of him, barbed with the knowledge of evil he 
 had taught her, of her self, cynically, like some 
 Kundry, testing, for their like knowledge, the souls 
 of men. 
 
 No, he could not stand the club to-night. Why 
 172
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 had he not a club upon the Bowery, like John Havi- 
 land? John was possibly there to-night; if he only 
 knew where it was, he would go there too. It was 
 too soon to call, after his dinner. Not, indeed, that 
 before this he had ever cared how often he called 
 upon John Haviland. Why would not Dorothy take 
 some interest in the life, the real life, of her adopted 
 city? It was to be her home. Why would she not 
 cultivate the Havilands and not Van Kull? 
 
 Van Kull, in another ten years, would almost be 
 another Tony Rastacq, American as he was. He 
 was acquiring the horrible, the un-American way, 
 of love affairs with young girls this Austin knew, 
 from the Major, who made his text of Daisy. Hand 
 some as his lost face was, it was growing yet more 
 evil. He was now more to be found at Narragan- 
 sett, or even at Watch Hill or such unexplored re 
 sorts the girls at Newport were too knowing for 
 him, he said and the grim truth that clothes the 
 words of Mephistopheles through the Faust lay in 
 this speech for, as he grew old, his pleasures must 
 be stronger. He needed now the spice of sin. He 
 liked to dazzle young girls (and our yellow press sees 
 to it that America is not without innocent young 
 girls who can be dazzled by such as he) he would 
 pick one out for the summer, dazzle her, intoxicate 
 her, perhaps compromise her if he could not girls 
 
 173
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 in his own class, perhaps. So much the fouler play ! 
 The Major had told Austin this, it was no jest, he 
 said, and the young Carolinian had said (it was no 
 jest either) he would like a chance to kill him. Pos 
 sibly Van Kull saw this (not, to do him justice, that 
 he would much have cared) and for the nonce relaxed 
 his pursuit of silly Daisy. 
 
 But to-night Austin could see some good in all 
 men all, anyhow, but Van Kull certainly in all 
 women. The passion of his own remorse had purged 
 his nature; with the shriving came the great com 
 passion for the sinning the infinite compassion of 
 the pure. To his dear wife he had been hard 
 narrow, boy-man-like. His nature was larger now. 
 
 Must it be that a man must sin to be redeemed? 
 That, surely, is not true of women. Yet the stories 
 of Senta, of Tannhauser yes, even of Dante and of 
 Shakespeare would hint at some such truth. But 
 Austin felt nobly confident his wife had never sinned. 
 He would go home and write to her. 
 
 It was a long, affectionate letter. He insulted 
 her with no word of Van Kull wrote much and ear 
 nestly of her hoped-for home-coming, and closed with 
 a laughing reference to her desire to speculate. The 
 brougham should be hers, he bade her hope; he had 
 won, he felt sure, a great case that very day. As 
 for Markoff, he doubted that young Hebrew s real 
 
 174-
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 desire to make their fortune. It was not for his 
 own beaux yeux since when had she so smiled upon 
 him? 
 
 A thought occurred to him, and he wrote a word 
 to Lucie Gower. He was interested too; and he 
 owed him a bread-and-butter letter anyhow. He 
 spoke a word of his hospitality, and of Dorothy s 
 enjoying it so long. He mentioned Markoff s " tip." 
 Then he turned again to his letter to her and added a 
 word of endearment and lay down to a dreamless 
 sleep. Well earned for one who had argued a 
 national case, tramped twenty miles through winter 
 snow, and sat till after midnight writing letters! 
 
 Two days after this Austin got two telegrams. 
 One was from Lucie (he had not credited him with 
 so much learning), " Timeo hebraos nee dona feren- 
 tes" the other from his wife, " Am coming home to 
 morrow," and Austin rushed out to buy flowers for 
 her. 
 
 XXVI 
 
 WHEN Dorothy came in, her first glance, 
 which Austin, busy with the things in the 
 carriage, did not see, was for the card tray. Then 
 she sent the maid for a tea gown and bade her undo 
 her boots. The girl stood irresolute until a petu- 
 
 175
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 lant command from Dorothy brought her to her 
 knees. " Now carry the boots upstairs. I really 
 must have a maid to myself. Ann is only fit to scrub 
 floors." 
 
 " Does that come before the brougham ? " smiled 
 her husband. 
 
 " Every other woman at Flosheim had a maid 
 with her. They could wear a dozen fresh waists a 
 day, if they chose. You look flourishing enough ! " 
 
 " I ve been working very hard." 
 
 " Well, Mr Markoff has his brougham and 
 everything else and yet he seems to find some time 
 for society." 
 
 " Did you ask him to come to your Fridays this 
 year? " 
 
 " My Fridays were ridiculous it s silly for us 
 to try to entertain in this house. Oh, he hadn t a 
 word to throw at me; I m not good enough for him 
 now. All the eyes he had were for Mrs Gower." 
 
 " Perhaps he was there on business," suggested 
 Austin. 
 
 " No, for Mr Gower didn t want him. He 
 snubbed him terribly. Markoff wanted to be intro 
 duced to Countess Carolyi, and Mr Gower wouldn t." 
 
 " Perhaps she wouldn t. Austrians are full of 
 prejudice. My sisters 
 
 " Oh, I m tired of hearing about your sisters I 
 176
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 should think you had thirty instead of three." She 
 spoke before the maid, and Austin was silent; but 
 was sure that he could not remember when he last had 
 spoken of his family. Dorothy bade the maid re 
 move her dress and then adjust the gown, holding up 
 her arms and Dorothy was proud of her arms, still 
 so frail and girlish as she did so. Austin did not 
 like this habit, acquired from Daisy in their con 
 tracted lodgings at Newport, of dressing all about 
 the house; but he had made a resolve no more to 
 reprove his wife. Instead, when the maid had 
 gone, he kissed her; and she looked a shade less 
 fretful. 
 
 And now the callers and the dinner invitations 
 began. Every night they went out to dinner she 
 was always calling in the afternoons and pretty 
 soon there were dances too; for Dorothy never re 
 fused an invitation (except to accept a better one), 
 and (moreover, having an attractive husband) such 
 young people are in demand. If only we had that 
 mad desire to feed the poor we have to feed the rich ! 
 The only invitations she would not accept Avere the 
 Havilands and Petrus Gansevoort s, of course; 
 they were asked once to a grand ball he was giving 
 in the Fifth Avenue palace but probably by mistake. 
 Dorothy rather accentuated the breach ; she was quite 
 aware of the vogue she had enjoyed in her first win- 
 
 177
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 ter as " the girl who had run away from Pete." 
 She was fond of saying such things as " Oh, there is 
 Mrs Gansevoort I can t go in with her." But she 
 said that Gracie Haviland did not like her, so Austin 
 had to take his dinners there alone, when her even 
 ings, as sometimes happened, were filled without him. 
 But, as the years went by, she found it rather a 
 nuisance never to go to the Gansevoort balls. 
 
 Meantime Austin s growing interest in his pro 
 fession absorbed him more and more. And he was 
 also resolved to strike his roots more deeply into the 
 city s life. What John Haviland could do, what 
 Lucie Gower could do, what Mary Ravenel could do, 
 surely he could do. He began to study John s clubs 
 and classes in the Bowery. Leaving there after 
 dark, one Friday afternoon, Haviland asked him to 
 walk down to Rivington Street. " Miss Ravenel has 
 a late class to-day, and I always like to walk home 
 with her if it s after dark." 
 
 " Do you mean she walks all alone from Riving 
 ton Street?" 
 
 " It s not that neighborhood I mind to begin 
 with, she has lived there, months at a time, and almost 
 everyone knows her. But I never heard of a lady, 
 on her business, being insulted on Rivington Street. 
 It s Twenty-third Street, and Fifth Avenue, where 
 that danger is." 
 
 178
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " It is a long walk," said Austin gravely. 
 
 " She is too poor to take a carriage." 
 
 Austin thought of his wife s new brougham, just 
 chartered for the winter, and the horse idle in his 
 stable, for it was her " at home " day, but the vision 
 was dismissed with a sigh. Anyhow, he would not 
 on that day be wanted at home. So he swung his 
 stride to Haviland s. 
 
 To use up the time they walked through Centre 
 Street, passing by the Tombs. Austin looked at the 
 dignified old portal to the dolent city ; it was the first 
 time he had seen it ; his clients were not of that class. 
 John spoke a word to a plainly dressed old woman 
 who just then issued from the Egyptian pylon. 
 Austin looked on ; perhaps his curiosity appeared ; 
 for John said, " That is Mrs C. they call her the 
 Tombs Angel." And they were still talking of her 
 when they met Miss Ravenel. 
 
 " I hear so much of her from friends from my 
 girls who have friends in trouble. I can only work 
 among the good, you know," she said, with a sudden 
 shy smile to Austin. 
 
 " And better you should," growled Haviland. 
 " And if anyone can keep them good, you and Gracie 
 can. Besides, they see you do it." 
 
 Miss Ravenel s smile rippled frankly into laugh 
 ter. " Lessons in the arts of virtue, with practical 
 
 179
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 demonstration, as they say in colleges ! What prigs 
 you make us seem ! " 
 
 "Did you go to college, Miss Ravenel? " asked 
 Austin. 
 
 " No, I didn t. I lived alone in the country, with 
 my grandmother, in Maryland. But my coming-out 
 year I came to New York." 
 
 " And came out in the slums," laughed John. 
 
 " Not in the least," laughed the girl. " I went 
 to Mrs Ganscvoort s ball and to Mrs Rastacq s re 
 ception before I sank to my natural level. Don t 
 you believe him, Mr Pinckney ; Mr Haviland doesn t 
 move in my circles, that s all." But Austin did not 
 heed her; the words about Mrs Rastacq had struck 
 his chest like a bullet. 
 
 " You emerge occasionally I have met you at 
 dinners," continued Haviland. 
 
 " Only that I may study the customs of my bet 
 ters. All my working girls model themselves on the 
 Four Hundred, you know. Come, this is Tompkins 
 Square, and we are not of the Four Hundred. I 
 always have a race here, when it s dusk." Except in 
 the paths, the snow of the little park was quite un 
 trodden, and the benches were empty. Like an 
 Artemis she bounded forward, the men after her. 
 John, with his fifty years, soon fell behind ; but Aus 
 tin barely kept with her until, on the other side, she 
 
 180
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 sank breathless into a seat. From her rosy face the 
 laughing, direct eyes looked out at Austin, and he 
 noticed not their color, which was indescribable, but 
 that they were very gentle and yet their glance was 
 clear and brave. Their color, indeed, like a deep 
 mountain tarn hidden from all wind, was misty gray 
 or blue as the light took it. As she sat there she 
 looked the picture of health; and Austin was glad 
 to notice it, for the other day he had fancied her 
 delicate. 
 
 "What is the hardest?" 
 
 " The hardest thing I find? " Miss Ravenel grew 
 quickly serious. " To keep them from copying the 
 wrong models and to make them see the right ones. 
 Women of the really grand monde what I call it 
 are not portrayed in the newspapers." 
 
 " And what you call the grand monde is the uni 
 verse God s world." 
 
 She darted a quick glance of approval. " And 
 all humanity s," she added. " Women like Gracie 
 Haviland, for instance. They are not advertised. 
 Work girls cannot imagine them ; they have to meet 
 them. And then it takes an education to appreciate 
 them. Whereas women like 
 
 " Like Mrs Rastacq, for instance." Austin said 
 it with a gulp. 
 
 " Oh, they are easy to copy." 
 181
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " I wish I could do something of the kind like 
 Mr Haviland," he added, as that gentleman panted 
 up. " I have, as Deerslayer says, no gift. A class 
 of newsboys would embarrass me terribly. I should 
 be afraid to speak lest they should urge me to come 
 off. " 
 
 " I was terribly self-conscious at the beginning." 
 Never was reproof more tenderly administered; but 
 Pinckney s face crimsoned. " But there are other 
 worlds than the newsboys. And girls are really 
 harder." 
 
 " You teach them the classics of such teaching, 
 I suppose to do their duty in that station of life in 
 which a wise Providence placed them," said John. 
 
 " I find that quite hopeless, Mr. Haviland. The 
 best I can hope for is to point out the duties of the 
 stations some grades above. Even then the difficulty 
 is that so many of them feel quite sure they are quali 
 fied already." 
 
 " I am afraid they are, as they see it," said Aus 
 tin, thinking of Flosheim. 
 
 Divining his little hurt, the young lady now let 
 her eyes rest on his a moment. Never was sensitive 
 ness more gently cured. " I should think you could 
 do something." 
 
 Away from the snow s light, the streets were 
 darker ; the throngs on Fourth Avenue impeded con- 
 
 182
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 versation ; at Twenty-fourth Street they went 
 through to Madison Avenue. John lived just east, 
 on Thirty-fifth Street, and they left him at his door. 
 " I often see him home," the girl laughed. " No, 
 I ll not go in. I know you dine to-night with the 
 Two Hundred " 
 
 " Trying to butt in," said John. " And we can t 
 exchange calls with Rivington Street." Austin went 
 on with her to the corner of Park Avenue, and down 
 one block then Miss Ravenel stopped, extending 
 her hand : 
 
 " Here our ways separate." 
 
 " Try and think of something for me to do." 
 
 " I will," said the girl simply. 
 
 Pinckney looked a moment after her ; then, as 
 she crossed the Thirty-fourth Street bridge, he 
 turned resolutely away. He walked rapidly back to 
 Fifth Avenue and on to Central Park. Thence, it 
 being almost time for dinner, he took the elevated 
 railway home. 
 
 XXVII 
 
 BUT, coming home, he found his wife absent on a 
 theatre and dinner party, leaving a note be 
 hind her to that effect. 
 
 (Dorothy was one of those who started the fash 
 ion of separate engagements. " Why," said she, 
 
 183
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " take every meal with the man you take all your 
 meals with? " and clever husbands or pretty wives 
 who will accept without their spouses are always in 
 much demand.) So Austin had to dine alone at his 
 club at a season when it was almost disreputable for 
 a man to dine at the club alone. But Mr Miles 
 Breese was also dining there, and, after dinner, he 
 buttonholed our hero. " I want to say a word to you 
 about Allegheny Central. You don t mind talking 
 here? It saves a trip downtown " (" and ten dollars," 
 perhaps one might have read, his thought contin 
 ued). "Those fellows, they say, have called a spe 
 cial meeting." 
 
 " Tamms ? He can t have got the stock." 
 
 " He hinted to me that is, my young friend 
 Markoff did that he had got the proxies. And 
 they only give sixty days notice. He asked for 
 mine. Of course I gave it." 
 
 " You gave him your proxy ? " Most of Mr 
 Breese s face could not be redder ; but the color grew 
 more uniform. 
 
 " One must stand in with one s friends, you know, 
 and I don t deny there was a consideration. I 
 couldn t excite suspicion," he added slyly. " But if 
 Markoff is my friend, you are my counsel. One s 
 lawyer must protect one from one s friends, eh, eh? " 
 An unctuous smile of anticipated humor invaded his 
 
 184
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 round red face as he closed, reminiscently : " Par 
 ticularly when they are ladies." 
 
 " What do you wish me to do, Mr Breese? " said 
 Austin, after an interval of silence. 
 
 " We can t tell what they mean to do. If Mar- 
 koff is telling the truth, they mean to wreck the 
 road." 
 
 " Markoff always tells the truth when he can," 
 said Austin. 
 
 " Precisely. But we can, perhaps, find out 
 whether his client has secured control. The books 
 are kept in Baltimore. If he has been buying prox 
 ies here, he has been buying proxies there." 
 
 "Well?" said Austin. 
 
 " Well, I thought you might go down there." 
 
 " I can t possibly go off to Baltimore. To begin 
 with, it s not a lawyer s business." 
 
 " No detective I mean no agent, a broker, for 
 instance could go into the railroad office and ask to 
 see the books and things and get any sort of treat 
 ment. Whereas a lawyer can frighten them with 
 injunctions and things." 
 
 " You can t enjoin a stockholders meeting. And 
 you don t want to frighten them. They ve covered 
 their tracks as it is, if they ve been buying proxies 
 only, and the stock book won t show anything." 
 
 Miles Breese looked at him, disappointed. He 
 13 185
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 wanted to hint at a large fee ; but didn t like to. 
 Moreover, he couldn t pay it. 
 
 " I am sorry," said he. " It means much to me. 
 And it means more to my poor daughter." Breece 
 waited, and, of course, the other broke the pause. 
 
 "Your daughter?" 
 
 " Miss Ravenel." 
 
 Miss Ravenel! How could she be his daughter! 
 
 " It is all she has to live upon, poor girl. But 
 perhaps you do not know her. We have to live very 
 quietly." 
 
 " I have met her," Austin said. (We? Surely 
 Miss Ravenel had almost given him to understand 
 she lived alone?) " I did not know she was your 
 daughter." 
 
 " Ah, I see ; -of course the name misled you." 
 Breese tapped his chest mysteriously. " Family 
 skeleton, you know. Her mother and I were divorced 
 twenty years ago. My fault all my fault. For 
 some reason, I never knew why, she resumed, not her 
 maiden name, but her mother s name of Ravenel. 
 We were in Baden-Baden at the time, but she came 
 home to get the divorce. I let her keep our only 
 surviving child," Breese closed pathetically. 
 
 Austin evinced no sign of sympathy. 
 
 " But my girl remained loyal to me. And now 
 that her mother is dead, I am her only means of 
 
 186
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 support." The old gentleman closed, with some 
 majesty, on the pere noble stop. 
 
 " Of course the books are closed," said Austin, 
 after some delay, dismissing Miss Ravenel from the 
 conversation. " We might, I suppose, have some one 
 at the meeting 
 
 " I wish you would," said the other. " And send 
 somebody whom they can t suspect. And now, have 
 a drink with me? " 
 
 " No, thank you," said Austin. " Good night." 
 
 He looked at his watch. John s dinner would be 
 over by this time; he might catch him on his way 
 home. And although Thirty-fifth Street was not 
 exactly on the way from Thirty-second Street and 
 Fifth Avenue to Eleventh, Austin was rewarded by 
 finding him in his smoking jacket and must it be 
 confessed? carpet slippers. They bore, on a field 
 gules, an orange lily, and had been worked for him 
 by a little Jew girl who had been wooed at the 
 tender age of fourteen and, at John s suggestion, 
 wed, by a promising young shop boy in his class. 
 They were her bridal present, and John wore them 
 religiously. 
 
 " Haviland, is it really true that old Miles Breese 
 is Miss Ravenel s father? " 
 
 John puffed away, as if thinking how to express 
 the whole truth compendiously. 
 
 187
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " Under God," sententiously he answered. 
 
 " He has been telling me that he is her only sup 
 port." 
 
 " Liar ! " John puffed away explosively. " The 
 other way about would be nearer the truth. I fancy 
 he gets all her income except, perhaps, what she 
 earns." 
 
 " He boasts that she is loyal to him." 
 
 " That is true enough she will not cast him off, 
 though her mother did." 
 
 " Doesn t she live with him? " 
 
 "Live with him! Did he say that? The old 
 reprobate. She lives with her grandmother, Mrs 
 Warfield, down in Maryland, in some old country 
 place that is all that they have left. That is, except 
 when she winters in New York to do good and to 
 earn, I fear, some money. Live with him ! The 
 Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children 
 would interfere. Live with him ! " John glanced 
 apprehensively at the door; but Grace was making 
 her nightly visit to the five little child s bedrooms 
 that, Austin knew, were upstairs. " Look here, you 
 may as well know it all. The old reprobate lives 
 with Mrs Beaumont. It would be quite impossible. 
 I ll tell you what he is in a word. Do you remember 
 Balzac s novel of * La Cousine Bette ? " 
 
 Austin nodded his head. 
 188
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " And old Hulot, the reprobate, with the lovely 
 wife, who ran after every petticoat, from actresses 
 to grisettes, ruined the family, broke her heart? 
 Well, old Breese is the very New York counterpart 
 of the Paris General Hulot. You might put one for 
 the other. Only his wife, thank goodness, is dead." 
 
 " I saw a Mrs Beaumont at Newport, at the 
 Ocean House." 
 
 " That s the one. But she docs not dare live at 
 the hotel. Thank goodness, his daughter does not 
 know, though he would take the risk of having her 
 visit there." 
 
 Suddenly Austin remembered a presence in the 
 park one morning, and something caught his breath. 
 
 " The old Major there is something mighty fine 
 about Tom Brandon does what he can to keep him 
 straight, and to keep them apart, at some slight risk 
 to his own reputation ! He says it s the best thing 
 could be hoped for. She keeps him from others it 
 might be a pretty typewriter she has no idea of 
 marrying him, and Brandon says she s not all bad." 
 
 " Who is Mrs Beaumont? " 
 
 " There are some of us who know. Not Mrs 
 Gower, though. Her name was Flossie Starbuck. 
 Mrs Beaumont s real name is Jennie Starbuck." 
 
 "Is?" 
 
 " Is. Some say she s Flossie s cousin. Any- 
 189
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 how, she had a brother. She began as a dressmak 
 er s apprentice at Rose Marie s upon Sixth Avenue. 
 He was a socialist, anarchist, had been a railway 
 laborer and risen to be clerk. Did you ever hear of 
 Lionel Derwent? " 
 
 " I have," said Austin with a pang. 
 
 " He told me that Rose Marie as she then called 
 herself had been led astray, as Jim believed, by 
 Flossie s brother Si. However that may be, Der 
 went met him shortly after addressing a mob just 
 before the Pennsylvania riots of 1878. And soon 
 after the Starbuck Oil Works burned up in a famous 
 fire. You ve heard of Starbuck Oil ? " 
 
 " It belongs to the Allegheny Central," said 
 Austin. 
 
 " Precisely. And Mrs Gower still holds her 
 stock. Well, one Charlie Townley was really Jennie 
 Starbuck s protector at that time ; but he was a close 
 friend of Si s, and the brother may have seen them 
 together. Anyhow, he was suspected of having fired 
 the works in revenge there is no doubt the fire was 
 incendiary. The East River ran with burning oil 
 when the tanks exploded. But the only man on the 
 premises was the watchman, and he was found blind 
 drunk and nearly frozen." 
 
 " Didn t they pursue Starbuck? " 
 
 " Except that Derwent had seen him fire an oil 
 190
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 well in Pennsylvania, there was nothing to point to 
 him. And Derwent, with that curious Oriental loy 
 alty to his friends, even if they were pirates or mur 
 derers, that characterized the man, never told this to 
 the authorities. The only kind of criminal that the 
 author of Piccadilly couldn t tolerate was the 
 seducer or the swindler." 
 
 " Who are received in our most exclusive society." 
 
 " A month ago you would have said our best. 
 Your moral tone is improving, young man. Well, 
 the watchman would only say, upon examination and 
 cross-examination, or on that night to the police, 
 that he was blind drunk ; that he had been blind 
 drunk all night ; and that, please God, he hoped to 
 get again blind drunk in the morning." 
 
 " He must have had a good lawyer," laughed 
 Austin. 
 
 " There speaks your truer self. Well, Jim Star- 
 buck sank to be a common thing ; he was convicted 
 of robbing a man in the street with a slung shot, 
 obligate; sentenced for ten years; and at Clinton is 
 said to have boasted of the Starbuck fire. And Jen 
 nie when Townley failed, she went to some Jim Fisk 
 sort of a type, and after he died, old Breese became 
 her easy prey." 
 
 " Great heavens," said Austin ; " he must be over 
 seventy." 
 
 191
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " Sixty, sixty, young fellow ; look at Mary Rav- 
 enel." 
 
 " But at his age " 
 
 " There are two vices will never leave a man 
 the passion for drink and a taste for women espe 
 cially when he has them together." 
 
 " But how can Miss Ravenel 
 
 " That is the mystery. Of course she is posi 
 tively color blind to all in the world that is not 
 good 
 
 " Not quite," said Austin. " She is no fool." 
 
 " She is no fool. Neither was Galahad or Parsi 
 fal " 
 
 " Durch Mitleid wissend, der reine Narr/ " 
 
 hummed Austin. 
 
 " Some mistaken sense of filial duty, perhaps. 
 Or, perhaps, she brooded in the old Ravenel tower 
 and idealized him. Of course, when she came to New 
 York, she knew nothing about him. She had never 
 seen him, I know. Perhaps he wrote to her proba 
 bly asking for money I give it up ; certainly her 
 mother had had to leave him, and would not even 
 keep his name. Grace," he asked, as his wife, after 
 a preliminary knock, came into the room, " why did 
 Mary Ravenel take up her father ? " 
 
 Grace Haviland at five and thirty was a lovely 
 192
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 woman ; Lucie Gower had told his wife that she was 
 the greatest lady in New York, a speech at which 
 Flossie was generous enough as well as intelligent 
 enough not to demur, though the Havilands had 
 never accepted her dinner invitations. At forty, 
 New England women often look their best ; matron- 
 hood becomes them. But it was not her beauty that 
 Austin noticed in the searching glance she turned 
 upon him. She seemed to read him through and 
 through; and then she spoke, as if now reassured. 
 " Had not her mother cast him off? " John inter 
 rupted. 
 
 " I think her mother had cast him off. For nigh 
 to twenty years she never spoke of him. To-day 
 old Mrs Warfield will not hear his name. But be 
 fore she died I do not know that it is our busi 
 ness except to explain Mary s actions, and I m sure 
 they never need it her mother, Mrs Breese, Mrs 
 Warfield s daughter, made her some confidence 
 
 " Mrs Warfield." The name recurring again, 
 Austin Pinckney tried to think in what connection 
 he remembered it. 
 
 " Mrs Warfield was born a Ravenel, of South 
 Carolina, and her daughter, Mary Warfield, she mar 
 ried to Miles Breese, then the richest young man in 
 Baltimore. Why, upon the divorce, she took her 
 mother s name and not her own, I cannot tell. But 
 
 193
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 before she died she told Mary our Mary all about 
 it. I have sometimes fancied she had some remorse, 
 or at least repentance or regret." 
 
 " That cannot be," said Haviland. " The scan 
 dal is historic. He left her, openly, at Baden- 
 Baden, with their young daughter, and moved into 
 Mrs Reichmann-Wyse s house without leaving the 
 place. The mother, being a South Carolinian, where 
 no divorce is allowed, hated to ask for it; but her 
 very self-respect demanded it, to say nothing of the 
 legal right to Mary." 
 
 Gracie opened her eyes mistily. " I do not know 
 I do not try to know. There may be other than 
 patent infidelities perhaps she had not tried to make 
 the best of him. I only know that Mary was half 
 ordered, half entreated, by her dying mother, to seek 
 him out and reclaim him if she could." 
 
 They were silent. " What a flower to grow on 
 such a stem," said Austin, at the last, when he saw 
 that no one else would say anything. " But, Havi 
 land, I came in on a matter of business." 
 
 " Oh," said John, lighting his pipe ; " what is 
 it?" 
 
 " With your bank s connections in Baltimore, 
 and quietly, do you think you could find out for 
 me the present ownership of Allegheny Central 
 stock? " 
 
 194
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Haviland reflected. " It s chiefly dealt in in New 
 York, though they transfer in Baltimore. Mrs 
 Gower has some by Jove, and so has Mary Ravenel. 
 I might find out, in my banks, how much is pledged." 
 Now, John Haviland was a director in half the banks 
 and trust companies in New York. 
 
 " That s exactly what I should like. I can find 
 the owners of record, but not the persons by whom 
 it s pledged." 
 
 The next day Austin went into Mr Gresham s 
 office and asked him what to do about his talk with 
 Breese. 
 
 " Did he tell you he had given proxies on his 
 daughter s stock? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " I wonder whether he has. The poor girl has 
 only a few hundred shares but three or four hun 
 dred dollars would tempt Miles Breese. We can 
 easily find out it stands in our joint names as trus 
 tees, under order of court ; it was her mother s ali 
 mony. We ll give another proxy, in my name, to 
 some discreet person, and have him attend the meet 
 ing and take notes." 
 
 " It mustn t be any man in our firm," said 
 Austin. 
 
 " No, nor any New Yorker known as such. It 
 would excite notice, particularly if there s a contest 
 
 195
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 over the proxy. I have it." And Gresham took a 
 proxy slip, and wrote on it, " Magdalen Aylwin of 
 Hadley, Mass." " Will she do? " 
 
 Austin reflected whether he ought to tell his chief 
 that he had seen her at the Ocean House at Newport. 
 " I would trust her anywhere," was what he finally 
 said. 
 
 " Any extra man at a stockholders meeting 
 always excites suspicion," said the astute lawyer. 
 " We hold all our meetings with our clerk and the 
 local attorney. But there is often a woman or two. 
 They usually hold five shares and they always kick," 
 he added. 
 
 " Mr Gresham, you were Mrs Breese s lawyer 
 at the time of the divorce. Why did she not resume 
 her maiden name ? " 
 
 " You must ask Messrs Calvert & Calvert, of 
 Baltimore they were her local attorneys and they 
 may know perhaps she did not wish her known name 
 to get in the papers. I was told the Maryland 
 statute allowed it. I never ask my client s motives, 
 unless I ought to know." 
 
 And for a second time in one week our eminent 
 young advocate felt himself gently set down. 
 
 And going to his own desk, he scribbled " Mary 
 Ravenel, Mary Ravenel " then " Mary Warfield " 
 on a sheet of legal cap. And beautiful Miss Ayl- 
 
 196
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 win, coming in with a sheaf of typewriting, must 
 have seen it ; for Austin then carefully tore the sheet 
 in fragments and threw them in his wastebasket. 
 
 XXVIII 
 
 JOHN HAVILAND reported that there were at 
 least one hundred thousand shares of Alle 
 gheny Central stock in New York pledged in the 
 loans of Mr Phineas Tamms or in the straw names 
 believed to represent him. His own particular bank 
 had none of them, being of opinion that you never 
 make money in dealings with a rascal ; other banks 
 were not so timorous, or so scrupulous ; but of them 
 Haviland could hardly ask to see the actual share 
 certificates Tamms had pledged; and short of this 
 there was no way to determine who would have the 
 right to vote on them at the coming special meeting. 
 It was of course possible, too, that the original own 
 ers the owners " of record " had given him prox 
 ies. That he had been buying proxies they already 
 knew. 
 
 On this state of facts, the three partners prin 
 cipally concerned got together one day in consulta 
 tion. At the repeated requests of Mr Miles Breese 
 for an interview, they had also caused a note to be 
 
 197
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 dispatched to that gentleman stating that Mr 
 Gresham would give him a consultation that day be 
 tween twelve and a quarter past. It was now near- 
 ing the earlier limit. 
 
 " If he owns or controls one hundred thousand 
 shares, so large a compact block always attracts 
 floating shares ; and usually, in the absence of organ 
 ized opposition, it will control the election," Mr 
 Gresham was saying of Haviland s report. " There 
 are four hundred and seventeen thousand six hun 
 dred shares." 
 
 " The books were closed so suddenly that it looks 
 as if he had got the balance of the half in proxies," 
 said Radnor. 
 
 " There is a statute in New York making the 
 buying of proxies a misdemeanor and the proxies 
 void," contributed Austin. 
 
 Mr Gresham s eye glittered, but only for a mo 
 ment. " I am afraid the validity of Tamms s prox 
 ies will be determined by Maryland law. And what 
 is a fine of a thousand dollars to Tamms? What we 
 want is to block his game or to send him to the 
 State prison." Austin looked up ; it was unusual 
 for Gresham to show such feeling. Just then Miss 
 Aylwin came in with a paper, and said that Mr 
 Breese was in the outer office. " Tell James to show 
 him in." 
 
 198
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " Good morning, Gresham good morning, Rad 
 nor hello, Austin," said that gentleman airily ; and 
 while Pinckney was wondering what intimacy of 
 theirs had justified him in using his familiar name, 
 he observed that he was endeavoring to give to the 
 meeting the tone of the Piccadilly Club, where he was 
 somewhat of a magnate, and which Gresham rarely 
 entered. " Mighty pretty young lady that clerk 
 of yours, Gresham. Where have I seen her be 
 fore? " 
 
 " Mr Breese, in the fifty years that you have 
 been an ornament to society " Mr Gresham spoke 
 icily, with a slight stress upon the numeral " you 
 must have seen all the pretty women in New York 
 several times. May I ask you kindly to forget that 
 you have seen Miss Aylwin at all? " A sort of ex 
 plosive puff came from the Celtic Radnor ; and Mr 
 Breese flushed red. But, after all, the clay of which 
 he had been moulded had been gentle clay, and he did 
 not answer as Austin had feared. 
 
 " You are right, Mr Gresham," he said with some 
 dignity. " It was none of my business. I have 
 come about Allegheny Central. There is no doubt 
 that people in Baltimore and Philadelphia have sold 
 a great deal of stock. And they did it because 
 Tamms frightened them into it. And Tamms has 
 got it." 
 
 199
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " That squares with what I hear from Philadel 
 phia," said Radnor, who had recovered himself. 
 " The old women clucked that the fox was in the 
 poultry yard. The Pennsylvania Society for Grant 
 ing Annuities to the Wives of Deceased Soldiers of 
 the Wars of the Revolution and 1812 and Others 
 tumbled over itself in its hurry to sell out." 
 
 " And the strange part of it is," Breese went on, 
 " that he circulated the rumors himself. I don t 
 know about Philadelphia, but in Baltimore Tamms 
 appeared openly, and shortly after sent items to the 
 newspapers to the general effect that one Phineas 
 Tamms, of New York, was in danger of securing the 
 property, and that Tamms was a damned rascal and 
 would wreck the road." 
 
 " He spoke the exact truth," said Mr Gresham. 
 " At such times he is exceptionally dangerous." 
 
 " And the effect of his honest advice, of course, 
 was to make the lambs cut the price of their own 
 wool as they handed it to him," said Radnor. " I 
 said before, we must organize. We must have a 
 stockholders committee of protection." 
 
 " That is easy," said Gresham thoughtfully. 
 " But it must cost him something to carry it. He 
 started buying the stock at 120, and these tactics 
 have got it down to 85. Where does he get the 
 extra margin ? " For answer Austin handed him 
 
 200
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Haviland s letter. Gresham took it up and read a 
 sentence Austin had just underscored: " Of late 
 he has been putting up as additional collateral large 
 quantities of Bellefontaine Pacific bonds and Alle 
 gheny Pacific new stock and withdrawing the Alle 
 gheny Central. Can he be already selling, now the 
 books are closed? " 
 
 " Bellefontaine Pacifies are bad paper," vouch 
 safed Mr Radnor alliteratively. 
 
 " The bonds sell about par," said Mr Breese 
 anxiously. 
 
 " Are quoted. He owns em all." 
 
 "There is also a good deal of what s this? 
 Allegheny Central preferred stock." 
 
 " Receipts for preferred stock," corrected Aus 
 tin. " * Issued by Tamms s Brooklyn Trust Com 
 pany for and against four per cent preferred stock 
 of the railroad when issued. That is what he means 
 to do at the meeting." 
 
 " Obviously," said Mr Gresham. " And lease 
 the Allegheny Pacific and guarantee its bonds." 
 
 " Faith, he s very kind in telling the widows and 
 orphans to sell out, and damned good advice it is 
 entirely," said Radnor. 
 
 " Most of the widows and orphans that have 
 been doing this last selling have an office on Wall 
 Street," said Mr Gresham. " And in my opinion 
 14 201
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 it s not far from the office of Phineas W. 
 Tamms." 
 
 " And the others had better sell too ? Remember, 
 my daughter s stock." 
 
 " We ll see we ll see. We ll let you know in 
 time. To-day it would be hard to sell it at all, if 
 Wall Street has had time to read that circular." Mr 
 Gresham pointed to the notice of the stockholders 
 meeting, and Austin took it up and read it. 
 
 " Allegheny Central Company. For the pur 
 pose of enabling the company to make desirable 
 Western connections, and to enable the directors to 
 acquire by purchase, lease, or consolidation such 
 property, rights of way, companies, or franchises as 
 may in their judgment be necessary, and to provide 
 the ways and means for the same. There is a 
 breadth of style about that I rather admire." 
 
 " Wall Street, though not sedulously addicted 
 to literary pursuits, is a fine judge of style," said 
 Radnor. 
 
 " Markoff took English One at Harvard," said 
 Austin. 
 
 Gresham rang the bell. " No, I want Miss Ayl- 
 win," he said to the man. Mr Breese looked out of 
 the window. " Miss Aylwin, will you be good enough 
 to telephone Haviland & Co. and ask the present 
 price of Allegheny Central? Don t let the office 
 
 202
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 overhear you. Auerbach & Markoff are quite capa 
 ble of paying a salary to one of my office boys," he 
 explained, while they waited. " And I can trust 
 Miss Aylwin." 
 
 Mr Breese looked as if he were making a men 
 tal note of it. In a minute she came back with a 
 slip: 
 
 " Opened at 84, sold to 71 ; now Tl 1 /^; no sup 
 port; selling by DeWitt, Duval & Holyoke, believed 
 to represent insiders." 
 
 " My God," said Breese devoutly. Mr Gresham 
 looked at him, as he tore up the slip. 
 
 " Mr Breese, when you gave Mr Markoff a 
 proxy on your own shares, did you sign one also for 
 the stock we hold as trustees for your daughter? " 
 
 " Yes," stammered the old man. " I I thought 
 you would have no objection." 
 
 " Not the least in the world," Mr Gresham went 
 on. " And for the same consideration, I presume? " 
 He paused until he elicited a reply. 
 
 " Two dollars a share ; it was as much as a divi 
 dend." 
 
 " Of course, of course. You will see that the 
 amount is placed to the credit of the trust. And 
 now, Mr Breese, I think we can do nothing more for 
 you to-day." And that gentleman took his leave 
 with the air of one who has left his tooth behind at 
 
 203
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 his dentist s and the place still aching. Mr Radnor 
 betook himself to his private office, whence were heard 
 certain cachinnations indicating that he was not 
 wholly abandoned to the practice of his profession. 
 Austin went into the library and became absorbed in 
 the examination of a complete set of the Maryland 
 legislative acts, secured by him recently at some ex 
 pense and rather to the surprise of the outer office. 
 Whatever he was searching for possibly the charter 
 of the Allegheny Central he was rewarded by com 
 ing upon an act " dissolving the marriage previously 
 existing between Miles Breese and Mary Ravenel 
 Warfield and authorizing the latter to assume the 
 name of Mary Warfield Ravenel." Curious, thought 
 Austin. He was aware that Delaware had been in 
 the habit of granting special acts of divorce, but 
 had no idea the Maryland Legislature had ever 
 done so. 
 
 There are but few ways of getting uptown in 
 New York, and there were still fewer at the time of 
 which we are writing. Among them that of Centre 
 Street and Lexington Avenue is perhaps quietest, if 
 not the pleasantest. You escape the crowds of 
 Broadway, the noise of Fourth Avenue; and, of 
 course, the lower Bowery is impossible for a woman. 
 The surface cars are objectionable and the Elevated 
 
 204
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 overcrowded. Austin, having hired for his wife the 
 brougham, liked to save on carriages for himself; 
 moreover, he preferred the air and exercise of the 
 four-mile walk. 
 
 The crowds in our great city s thoroughfares 
 vary curiously, to the sympathetic observer. To 
 begin with, at seven in the morning, there is the east 
 and west crowd, through Twenty-third, Fourteenth, 
 Thirty-fourth streets mainly young women, the 
 breadwinners. Many a New York lady has never 
 seen these ; and would be amazed, also, if she saw the 
 crowded foredecks of the ferryboats that feed them 
 
 young women, many of them mere girls, bright 
 faced for the most part, thank Heaven, and looking 
 healthy the corresponding crowd at sunset looks 
 rather jaded and is not so definite; it disseminates 
 itself, perhaps, among the shops ; moreover, the hour 
 of closing is not so uniform as that of the morning 
 whistle. Then there is the morning Elevated crowd 
 
 at seven, mechanics ; at eight, clerks ; not so many 
 women among the mechanics, the men only, it would 
 seem, " having the price " of the daily fares. Then 
 there is the nine o clock crowd, also recruited largely 
 from the ferries fathers of families in the Jerseys 
 and Long Island, " commuters," largely upper clerks, 
 salaried men, or partners in small firms, also (it 
 would seem) on their own account doing an express 
 
 205
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 business ; then a little later the Elevated " swells," 
 the real (as they believe) New Yorkers they who 
 sleep in the city. While in the afternoon are the 
 crowds of shopping women (hardly breadwinners 
 these) ; still later, the young women from the mati 
 nees, not breadwinners at all. Of some such things 
 may Austin have been thinking when, as he turned 
 through Astor Place into Fourth Avenue, just ahead 
 of him, he recognized Miss Ravcnel. 
 
 XXIX 
 
 AUSTIN did not wish to appear to be following 
 her ; yet he could not walk on without over 
 taking her. For a minute he feared it might annoy 
 her to have him speak to her at all. He finally left 
 their side of the wide street and crossed over, walk 
 ing more rapidly. Then he crossed back and met 
 her, face to face. The frankness of her greeting 
 dispersed his hesitation and they walked on together. 
 
 "You are from Rivington Street, I suppose?" 
 (It was a Friday.) "A better place than Wall 
 Street." 
 
 " I am not so sure," smiled Miss Ravenel. " Mr 
 Haviland says that Wall Street is the only part of 
 the United States where a man s word is as good as 
 his bond."
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " That is because a spoken promise is simple and 
 can t be evaded. The moment a lawyer is hired to 
 express it in a bond, another lawyer is hired to dis 
 cover loopholes in it." 
 
 " I have heard that a lawyer was the keeper of 
 his client s conscience," laughed Miss Ravenel. 
 
 " All the same, one sometimes wants a higher 
 job." 
 
 " Do you know, I ve been thinking about our talk 
 the other day " it was really some weeks since, but 
 Austin s face colored with pleasure " and I have 
 an idea of something not perhaps higher but of 
 something else that you might do, I believe, very 
 well ; if you can t teach newsboys. And I do not 
 think it ever has been done." 
 
 They were coming to the corner of Fourteenth 
 Street, and, as the crowd of carriages delayed their 
 crossing, Austin stole a look at her. She was speak 
 ing almost eagerly, her fair face, on which every 
 eddy of thought had its quick expression, aglow with 
 enthusiasm. " I am sure that you could do it." 
 And again oh, blind, blind ! might any passer-by 
 have noted his answering flush. 
 
 " It is to have a class, many classes, and not of 
 boys but of men ; and teach them something not 
 merely of the law that environs them, but of the 
 right that is in the law. The workingrnen, the 
 
 207
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 trades unions, I mean; I know they are so often 
 wrong; but I know that there is right, too, on their 
 side. And I know that there is right in the law that 
 seems so cruel to them. They have never been told 
 so they do not understand it. They have no one 
 to guide them politicians are their only counsel, 
 walking delegates their advisers no one serves them 
 single-heartedly, no one talks to them that they can 
 trust." 
 
 Austin reflected a minute. " The difficulty, of 
 course, is to win their trust." 
 
 " Yes, at first. But why should not a man give 
 his leisure to it? Or even I am sure it would be 
 worth his best work some of his working days ? " 
 
 " I do not know much about the law of labor 
 disputes 
 
 " Nor do I. But I suppose I ought not to say 
 it to a leading advocate," she continued with a laugh. 
 " Yet I feel sure the trouble has been that they have 
 not looked at the law as embodying the right, but 
 only as a thing contrived against them and for the 
 means of escaping it. Take the boycott, for in 
 stance the sympathetic strike." 
 
 " They taught me in Cambridge that every boy 
 cott was an unlawful conspiracy," said Austin. 
 
 " I suppose you know," the girl answered dubi 
 ously. " It would be, if the motive were to hurt an- 
 
 208
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 other. But suppose the object is only to properly 
 benefit themselves to do together what they might 
 do separately, in order to gain some wholly reason 
 able end? " 
 
 Austin looked at her curiously. Her thought 
 betrayed a wonderful maturity of mind ; for he did 
 know enough of the law of the subject to know that 
 this was deep reasoning ; and yet, like a woman, it 
 was intuition that led her so promptly to the heart 
 of the difficulty. 
 
 " Of course one can study the subject beyond 
 that I should hardly know how to begin." 
 
 " Why not join some labor union yourself? " 
 
 It gave the man a novel pleasure to be directed 
 by her, but oh, blind again ! he did not stop to 
 question it. 
 
 " Could I ? I don t know a trade. I once did a 
 little bookbinding." 
 
 " You might start as an apprentice ! " 
 
 " Oh, there are unions everywhere ! The very 
 fishermen on the Massachusetts coast have formed 
 one, and, I believe, their employers a trust. The 
 oyster trade is now directed from Chicago." 
 
 " Coming from Boston, you might begin with 
 codfish! Or perhaps you own a salmon river? The 
 fishermen in the Rcstigouche need protection, I am 
 sure ! " 
 
 209
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 The girl laughed happily; at least her life had 
 left no trace of pedantry. And she saw things 
 clearly, did this Una, with her man s intellect and 
 her woman s heart. And how beautiful she was ! 
 No one else seemed to have noted that ; Pinckney 
 hugged the discovery to himself. He had not known 
 that there were such young girls in the world. 
 Then he managed to turn the conversation to her 
 own affairs ; she talked with infinite comprehension, 
 infinite pity, of the life of working women in New 
 York ; then they had a word or two of fun on 
 " society " matters. Alas, in a moment, as it seemed, 
 they were at Thirty-fifth Street John Haviland s 
 corner. She slackened her pace as if expecting him 
 to stop. 
 
 " I am not going there to-day," he said, as he 
 looked at her. Her eyes, which had been fixed 
 directly upon her interlocutor and had been clear as 
 sapphires, took, on his look, their other shade of 
 misty blue indescribable in words it was as if 
 two curtains of azure mist unrolled between their 
 thought and his. She was again a young girl, fol 
 lowing alone some delicate instinct. 
 
 " Oh, I supposed you were then our ways divide 
 here." 
 
 Not for worlds would Austin have dared question 
 the fiat. 
 
 210
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " May I see you and report progress ? " he 
 queried humbly. 
 
 " I have to go home in a few days to my grand 
 mother in Maryland." And again the warning 
 came, and to his sinking heart the noise of the avenue 
 was as the bubbling ocean in his ears. He raised 
 his hat; for one brief second he watched her walk 
 away, then, that he might not seem to note her path, 
 he turned and rapidly walked on, until he found him 
 self in Harlem. 
 
 " Love comes unseen ; we only see it go." Any 
 man or maid of Mrs Gower s light world would have 
 seen it and taken it lightly enough. Perhaps it was 
 the not taking it lightly that made him blind. He 
 thought, no more than she, of any bond between 
 them. He did not think of himself at all; it was 
 only that his heart, which had been heavy, was now 
 very light. He was thinking only of the work that 
 lay before him to do. As for Miss Ravenel, there 
 was no need to think of her : she was. 
 
 When the man did come to self-consciousness, it 
 was with a pang. Something suddenly put Mamie 
 Rastacq in his mind, and the shudder of his degrada 
 tion. Nothing yet was in his heart that his being 
 wed to Dorothy made wrong ; but who was he that he 
 should seek a young girl s friendship? Bitterly he 
 remembered a Spanish proverb, that a kiss, once
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 given, is never past. Yet, like a ready balm, there 
 came, too, some new comfort. For his heart told 
 him that he should never be again the man he was 
 that night in Lenox. He had saved his soul alive. 
 
 XXX 
 
 MENTION has been made of a small New 
 Hampshire city, Nauchester by name, 
 whither the business of a certain mill had taken Aus 
 tin on the previous summer. This mill, at West 
 Nauchester, made dress goods prints and ginghams 
 although the business of the neighboring city 
 was the manufacture of shoes. And it happened, 
 that spring, that the entire working population of 
 this city went on strike. Now with this their law 
 firm would have had nothing to do, but that the 
 women and boys (there were no men except an en 
 gineer or two) employed in the print mills struck 
 also ; and these were still in the hands of a receiver, 
 and the receiver was a client of theirs. Moreover, 
 they were about effecting a successful reorganiza 
 tion may one explain, for the contingency of a lady 
 reader possibly in such things ignorant, that " re 
 organization " is the term applied to the process by 
 which the old debts of a corporation are got rid of
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 and new debts contracted, usually by the simple de 
 vice of pretending that the old corporation has died 
 and creating a new one, greatly to the satisfaction 
 of everyone except the creditors? But the borrow 
 ing of the new capital this time depended upon the 
 mill s being " a going concern." No one would lend 
 new capital while the strike lasted and the mill was 
 idle ; so the receiver, their client, was in despair. 
 
 The mill agent had informed him that the print 
 works strike was a " sympathetic " one ; that is to 
 say (although there appeared to be no particular 
 connection between the two industries unless they 
 thought the heathen or the negroes, having no shoes, 
 might as well go unclothed entirely), the girls in 
 West Nauchester stopped making printed cottons 
 because the women of Nauchester stopped making 
 shoes and brogans. And it seemed difficult to dis 
 cover what the true cause of the Nauchester strike 
 was. The newspapers had spoken at first of its 
 origin as being among the lasters, who objected to 
 the use of certain new machinery ; then there had 
 been talk of a printed contract being required of 
 those who returned to work ; evidently, at least, it 
 was no question of wages or hours. But the pros 
 perity of that portion of the little State was seri 
 ously affected ; and its governor and the mayor of 
 Nauchester, with a self-appointed committee of phi- 
 
 213
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 lanthropists coming from Boston, were reported to 
 be about to have an interview with the strikers en 
 masse., to see what might be done. And their client, 
 the receiver, not wholly satisfied with the foreman 
 temporarily in charge of his mill, who had himself 
 come recently from Nauchester, was anxious that 
 some one should go on to represent him before the 
 strike committee. And Austin had offered himself 
 for the mission. 
 
 He had been to the Havilands on the Saturday 
 following his walk to Harlem, as chronicled in the 
 last chapter ; but now he went again. He had been 
 reading up, not only the law, but the literature 
 of the subject Wright, the Webbs, Powderly s 
 massive magazine of misinformation, besides the 
 usual Government publications and he was already 
 aware that (at that period) it had been found im 
 practicable to organize women into unions, and also 
 that among them a sympathetic strike almost never 
 occurs. Woman is a born individualist ; her mind 
 is essentially practical, and her motives begin at 
 home. And Austin felt that a conference with Miss 
 Ravenel would be invaluable to him; her imagination 
 might furnish him with the clew he desired, and, for 
 that reason, he was desirous of seeing her. Except 
 by accident (he reflected) he never met her but at 
 the Havilands . She was going South now in a few 
 
 214
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 days. But she had never asked him to call (how 
 could she? Miss Just Out, with her own front door 
 and the protection of maid and butler, may ask a 
 man to call ; the Nauchester mill girl may entertain 
 her " gentleman friends " though she share her one 
 room with another girl not so a poor young lady 
 living in a Lexington Avenue apartment house), and 
 Austin did not know her address. He found himself 
 quite incapable of asking John or Gracie for it. So, 
 instead, he called there every day and regaled them 
 both with the fullest explication of the details and 
 difficulties of the Nauchester labor troubles, stating 
 with some particularity that he was leaving New 
 York on the next Friday, the Eastern committees 
 having selected Sunday as the most convenient day 
 for their efforts at peacemaking, and that he thought 
 the whole affair one of peculiar interest to anyone 
 concerned with the industrial condition of young 
 women. But all this ingenuity bore no fruit. 
 
 So it happened that Austin left the city with a 
 heavy heart. And also (he supposed it was only) 
 because he had a painful scene with Dorothy on the 
 morning of his departure if scene it may be called 
 where the dramatics are all on one side. His had 
 hardly been a speaking part his words, in fact, 
 were limited to the simplest statement (in answer to 
 the first question with which, in her bed, she greeted 
 
 215
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 him) that they were not going to Newport that 
 year. His dislike of the place was intolerable (he 
 had, of course, to put it on that ground, not on one 
 which implied a doubt of her indeed, he felt none, 
 in the vulgar sense, it was only the general deteriora^ 
 tion of their life there; and to express anxiety for 
 the state of Dorothy s soul would have sounded, in 
 his Southern ears, presumptuous if not ludicrous), 
 especially in a boarding house ; a " cottage " was, of 
 course, beyond their means. " Mr Markoff has 
 taken one " (he often, now, had to hear the taunt 
 of Markoff s greater success) ; " perhaps if you cul 
 tivated him more he might help you." 
 
 Now, Dorothy (and the reader knows why) had 
 never yet herself been willing to invite Markoff to 
 their house in New York ; for she still could feel, with 
 that animal purity, that shrinking from the physical 
 contact that had never deserted her, the horror of 
 the touch of Markoff s warm, moist palm upon her 
 dainty arm. Austin looked at her, but kept silent; 
 he felt that he could not have been counsel to such 
 as Tamms. If that were the way to riches, they 
 must remain poor. Then she threw a letter at him, 
 across the coverlet. 
 
 Austin was in his overcoat and gloves, hat in 
 hand, already on his way downtown ; he had only 
 come in to greet his wife, as she liked best, after he 
 
 216
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 had had his breakfast and she had taken her coffee 
 and had got a dressing wrapper over her nightdress. 
 But now he put his hat and gloves aside and sat down 
 to read her letter, which was from Mrs Somers, and 
 imparted the news, half terrified, half triumphantly, 
 that Daisy was determined on marrying an Italian 
 prince. " Of course he has no money," she lamented, 
 " but that is not the worst. His life has been most 
 scandalous" (the underlining was her own), "but 
 to poor Daisy the title is everything, though he is 
 only the fourth son of a younger brother of the real 
 Prince dei Puzzi, and the title is Parmesan. Prince 
 Giovanni simply lives at Monte Carlo, and if his life 
 is more moral than it was, it is only on account of his 
 health, or because he can t afford to keep mistresses, 
 and the married women won t have him. You must 
 let her come to you, at Newport; I am sure that s 
 the only place will cure her." 
 
 Austin had been somewhat amazed at the evi 
 dent frankness with which mother and daughter had 
 treated the other questions ; but at this last sugges 
 tion he raised his eyebrows. 
 
 " Distract her, mother means," said Dorothy. 
 And to his suggestion of a quieter place Dublin, 
 for instance, or even the Beverly shore it appeared 
 that indeed Newport alone could offer superior 
 charms to life in Parma with a titled husband at 
 15 217
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Monte Carlo. And then Austin s talent at cross- 
 examination at last elicited a mention of Van Kull. 
 The Machiavellian subtlety of this imagination had 
 at first given him pause; then he grew indignant. 
 But to his suggestion that Dorothy was exposing 
 her sister to the risk of having her heart broken, or 
 even worse, Dorothy had shrugged her shoulders 
 Van Kull was not " a marrying man," she hinted 
 and seemed to think either accident better than mar 
 riage with " a rotten dago " a speech which even 
 the sanction of slang did not make pleasant on her 
 lips. Moreover, she appeared to think that desper 
 ate diseases required desperate remedies ; and finally 
 hinted, with a plainness of speech of which our South 
 erner was still incapable, that Van Kull might go to 
 the extreme of flirtation with a young girl and yet 
 be careful of her reputation " a girl in his own 
 class, I mean." And Dorothy ran over a Leporello s 
 list of young ladies names and pointed out that 
 nothing had ever been " really known." 
 
 Thus it happened that Austin was not in the best 
 of minds, when he took the Boston train, for consid 
 ering the more real evils of the Nauchester mill girls. 
 He only felt like cursing the stupidity of the 
 founders Alexander Hamilton and Ben Franklin, 
 both judges of female character too for abrogat 
 ing titles in America. Here the bait of a Parma 
 
 218
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 marquisate even shared by a dozen others, the very 
 title outweighed all else. It would have been so easy 
 to sprinkle around empty titles for it is not the 
 political reality our young women seem to care for, 
 not the English peerage ; the mere honorific to the 
 name is all they want and thus have gratified the 
 social cravings of our proudest heiress and kept the 
 old man s honest dollars at home. And this without 
 infringing the prerogatives of a political democracy, 
 which is all we have left or (say the demarchs) hardly 
 that. A duke of Virginia or a marquis of German- 
 town might not always be attainable; but surely an 
 earldom of Brandy wine or even to be Viscountess 
 Bunker or plain Lady Schoharie would now have 
 jingled as pleasantly in Daisy s ears as Marchesa 
 (Giovanni) Puzzi. And then the order of the Cin 
 cinnati should be hereditary chevaliers, thus making 
 all their honest women Ladies. Possibly not many of 
 this historic American nobility would now be found 
 at Newport; and this also would make no harm. 
 For, as to Newport, Austin had been firm; no more 
 of it. In return, he had volunteered the suggestion 
 of a house on the Beverly shore ; and that would cost 
 much more money than Clery s cottages. Well, it 
 is the first duty of the American husband to provide 
 the money ; the last duty required of him is to be 
 with his wife where she spends it. Beverly was far- 
 
 219
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 ther off than Newport ; but he might, probably, be 
 at Pride s Crossing (he had written to Mrs Shirley 
 about a house there) every Sunday. And at Bev 
 erly, Austin thought, he would feel safe. Exotics 
 like Killian Van Kull could not breathe in that rari- 
 fied Puritan atmosphere, or the ragweed impart its 
 influenza. 
 
 As Austin got farther from home, his spirits rose. 
 The tidy New England fields, foaming with houstonia 
 pity the brave little flower, so lavish of itself in 
 our bleak spring winds, has not got a better name, 
 for they are more like dancing nymphs than " Quaker 
 ladies," and " bluets " is affected. And the com 
 fortable gray rocks heartened him; the frosty vigor 
 of the air. Anyhow, he was a different being than 
 he had been last fall. Not only his own work, but 
 his still larger impersonal interest in these great 
 human questions, industrial, social, vital now gave 
 him interest in life. Sympathy with other lives can 
 fill one s own. He felt, too, that he came to this 
 present contest, to the Nauchcster operatives, no 
 longer empty-handed, no, nor empty-hearted. All 
 lay in that. His heart was in his work. 
 
 So he sat, with the governor and the mayor and 
 a lady or two, through all the pompous platitudes of 
 the Boston philanthropists, on the platform of the 
 crowded hall next day ; hardly hearing them, indeed, 
 
 220
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 as he looked down at the packed audience, silent, 
 respectful, willing to meet them, even to be lectured 
 by them, more tolerant of their interference, he felt, 
 than he would have been had their cases been reversed. 
 He would now have felt himself in a false position 
 had he not, privately, spent the previous day in inter 
 viewing many of those he now saw sitting in the hall. 
 Nine-tenths of the audience (audience was the word, 
 they listened so patiently) were women ; the few men 
 were Poles, Armenians, Russian Jews (the employers, 
 of course, all Yankees, sat with them on the plat 
 form). It was said they had all been out of employ 
 ment eleven weeks, and that there was already much 
 distress among them ; there was no evidence of this 
 as Austin looked around the room. Nearly every 
 woman had a sealskin coat (imitation, he supposed) 
 and many of them diamonds. Their chairman was 
 giving them a carefully prepared historical account 
 of the vicissitudes attending the introduction of ma 
 chinery in industrial handicrafts ; at times he lost 
 his place and fumbled with his eye-glasses he was 
 reading from manuscript at such times their atten 
 tion wandered and they looked as if they had heard 
 it all before. 
 
 After this public function was over, they went 
 into a smaller room with the leaders of the strike; 
 and here they got one step nearer the real issue that
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 divided them. The Lasters Union, it appeared, had 
 long since given up the fight on the new machinery; 
 but all hands objected to returning under a printed 
 contract to be signed by each individual. It was 
 general, not personal, obligation they would promise. 
 Here the governor of the State launched into an elo 
 quent exposition of the sanctity of contract, only 
 stopping just short of expounding the Dartmouth 
 College case, a matter they would hardly have un 
 derstood ; while he did learnedly explain the doc 
 trine of implied contract, and how, by accepting em 
 ployment at all, they subjected themselves to the 
 reasonable conditions of the proposed written con 
 tract; the only new thing being that they were not 
 again to strike without two weeks notice and the 
 service of a writing, stating the reasons for the strike 
 and signed by the officers of the unions affected or 
 by the leaders of the strikers if individuals, upon a 
 permanent arbitration committee. But most of the 
 men, it seemed, did nevertheless consider the signing 
 their names to any document a serious step ; while 
 many of the women looked as if they were not always 
 prepared to give their reasons in black and white. 
 And then a clever Irishman stood up and pro 
 posed, as a reasonable counter provision, that the 
 manufacturers should also sign the contract and 
 agree to an additional clause that in future no em- 
 
 222
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 ployee should be discharged without a corresponding 
 two weeks notice, or, if for cause, immediately, but 
 in such case handing the employee a letter stating 
 such cause, which should then be reviewable by the 
 same arbitration committee. 
 
 At this, one of the shoe manufacturers, a down- 
 Easter named Slick, who had himself risen from a 
 bench in what was now his own factory (Austin 
 afterwards told Miss Ravenel that the " soulless cor 
 porations " he found much more broad-minded and 
 considerate of the rights of labor than the self-made 
 mechanic who had become an employer), lost his 
 temper completely and wanted to know what they 
 wanted anyhow. " Parcel of loafers, d n em ! " 
 
 " Remember," said their courtly chairman, " there 
 are ladies present." Mr Slick snorted. 
 
 " I know what they can do, and what they can t 
 do. I ve been on a bench myself " 
 
 " And been the meanest pacemaker of the lot," 
 interpolated the clever Irishman. 
 
 " The whole question comes down to this : Are 
 they to run my business, or am I? That s what I 
 want to know," said Slick. 
 
 In the wrangle that ensued Austin took no part. 
 He knew very well that both sides had substantially 
 made up their minds to the terms, save for one mat 
 ter that had not been approached as yet could not
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 be, perhaps, in that mixed conclave. One of the 
 girl leaders that is, an unmarried, handsome woman 
 of twenty-five, native of New Hampshire, a high- 
 school graduate encouraged by the others, yet 
 after far more hesitation, Austin had thought, than 
 Daisy or her Newport friends would have shown, 
 had boldly spoken out to him, the evening before, in 
 the favorite ice-cream saloon, about the real trouble ; 
 she was here now, but she would not dare, he knew, 
 bring such a subject to the fine ears of the Boston 
 ladies that formed a part of the committee. 
 
 His attention wandered to the walls of the room 
 they were in. It was evidently the assembly hall 
 of the local union. No pictures were on the walls ; 
 but there was a printed copy of the union s by-laws, 
 some framed Federation of Labor notices, and a 
 " Catalogue of the Library of Lasters and Binders 
 Unions Nos. and - " in handwriting. Evidently, 
 for library purposes, the men and women had com 
 bined ; for the binders were all women. Austin took 
 his notebook and furtively jotted down the list; for 
 these, presumably, were the forty best books of which 
 we have heard so much. The list differed materially 
 from Sir John Lubbock s. Some were mere hysteri 
 cal appeals to class hatred : " Esau, the Bank 
 er s Victim " ; " Bondholders and Breadwinners " ; 
 " Speaking of Ellen." And most of these, Austin
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 found when he and John came to read them, con 
 tained lurid portraits of a corrupt American aris 
 tocracy : " Pray You, Sir, Whose Daughter " ; " Is 
 this Your Son, my Lord?" "A Pure-Souled Liar." 
 These books themselves were more corrupt in imag 
 ination than the realities they tried to portray, and 
 Austin wondered, as he came upon another title, " A 
 Scene of Sin," why it was that human nature should 
 find more interest there than in those of virtue. 
 These were subterranean literature indeed. Yet 
 many of them were published by the News Compa 
 nies, though, as he afterwards found, hardly any are 
 to be found in the public libraries. Then there was 
 a somewhat better class, of curious and not uninter 
 esting stories of Bohemian life ; stories of young 
 women art students, of their successful resistance to 
 city temptations ; then there was, of course, the usual 
 classic story of high life written mainly for domestic 
 servants, " From Seamstress to Duchess," and the 
 like. A few were what the authors would doubtless 
 have entitled " scathing arraignments of American 
 political conditions," likening the state of the Ameri 
 can republic to that of Russia, or of France before 
 the Revolution, and written, probably, by recent 
 Slavonic immigrants. The titles of these told the 
 story : " The American Peasant " ; " The American 
 Siberia " ; " The Coming Slavery." In this class, 
 
 225
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 too, one might put those written against religion : 
 "Kept in a Convent," "Address to the Clergy." 
 But the largest class of all were mere tracts about 
 socialism, in the guise of a story : " The Way Out," 
 " The Strike of Sex," " The Coming Climax," " Why 
 do Men Starve? " and Altgeld s classic " Crimes 
 against Criminals." The politics of a democracy 
 were satirized in " The Member of the Third House," 
 " A Spoil of Office " and " Horace Greeley Farmer, 
 Editor, and Socialist." In the whole forty there 
 were not more than six or eight recognized works, to 
 be found in any library and those were by Tolstoi, 
 Henry George, Hamlin Garland and Robert G. In- 
 gersoll, with " Merrie England," " Looking Back 
 ward," Gronlund s " Cooperative Commonwealth," 
 and a translation of Bebel s unspeakable magnum 
 opus on " Woman." 
 
 And this was the reading upon which the coining 
 proletariat (they loved, he found, in these books, to 
 use that word) was being formed. He was even, 
 considering their titles, surprised at the wheat to be 
 found with such chaff. But then there was only one 
 kind of wheat. This literature, which alone had the 
 ear of the people, contained, besides socialistic prop 
 aganda, only two things : scorn of religion, class 
 hatred. As literature it was dull, dull even when 
 indecent yet how compete with it? But, withal, 
 
 226
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 though dealing with sin for the morbid pleasure of 
 it, there is no touch of levity ; the lofty ethical pur 
 pose runs through every page like the muted violins 
 of a melodrama; they remain solemn as judges and 
 condemn the frivolous with as little sense of humor 
 as a sensational minister pointing a moral tale. 
 
 So Austin mused, and awoke to find that an agree 
 ment had at last been arrived at, much facilitated by 
 Mr Slick s angry departure from the room ; and that 
 night, through all the country, would flash the news 
 that the great Nauchester strike had ended. The 
 chairman buttoned up his fur-lined overcoat; the 
 governor began to frame his announcement, in a 
 sedulous first person singular, to the Associated 
 Press ; the male shoe workers were filing out, when, 
 at the last moment, a girl said something about the 
 troubles in West Nauchester. They could not, she 
 argued, desert their friends, especially, she added 
 significantly, since one of the wrongs that had caused 
 their own strike had now become theirs. A com 
 mittee of conference was appointed, and Austin 
 moved for one on behalf of the employers. He 
 was appointed chairman, with power to name two 
 others. He selected the village doctor and the 
 Roman Catholic priest, and he had already tele 
 graphed their client, the receiver, for permission to 
 do what they ultimately resolved upon. 
 
 227
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 For he had not been idle, the day before; the 
 work had all been done and the matter settled, Austin 
 knew, before their chairman had begun his speech. 
 Guided by the hints of his friend in the ice-cream 
 saloon, he had visited West Manchester. And, con 
 sidering their reading matter, the conditions they 
 had asked for were passing strange. The mill had 
 recently constructed a row of model boarding houses 
 for the unmarried girls ; the plumbing was perfect, 
 the rents fair, and there was an elaborate code of 
 social rules to which the occupants were expected to 
 conform ; devised by the wife of the last treasurer, 
 who was a Boston millionaire, it was humbly imita 
 tive of the code of conduct and social manners that 
 might be expected of a well-bred young lady on the 
 Back Bay. Now these rules, they had insisted, 
 should be abolished; they desired complete liberty of 
 action and no police inspection. But the other de 
 mand was of a different nature; it was, that the 
 present superintendent, as he did not come up to 
 their moral standard, should be discharged. This, 
 as Austin reflected, was nothing less than a boycott, 
 a criminal conspiracy to the injury of the individual. 
 Nevertheless, he had acceded ; only he wondered 
 whether many metropolitan ladies, on or off the stage, 
 would have been so fastidious. According to both 
 the major and Mamie Rastacq, women liked a sultan. 
 
 228
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 But perhaps, in our new democracy, both Mamie and 
 Tom Brandon might be wrong. 
 
 He had recently begun to think it possible. 
 
 XXXI 
 
 THE little West Nauchester mills opened on the 
 Monday morning in charge of a new super 
 intendent, temporarily loaned them by one of the big 
 Nauchester concerns for their help in bringing to 
 an end the strike; and Austin drove out there early 
 and had the satisfaction of seeing the wheels revolv 
 ing and some hundreds of happy-faced young women 
 at work once more. It was a bright April morning ; 
 the sunlight came through a hundred open windows 
 with the sweet spring air, though on the Pack Mo- 
 nadnock the snow still lay ; and Austin felt the mill 
 was not so bad a place after all. The evening be 
 fore, after the settlement, he had seen again the lead 
 ers ; they were still puzzled, but now met him quite 
 frankly, without suspicion of his motives ; although 
 the men would hardly believe that he was a lawyer, 
 of which profession they took a cynical view. Some 
 suspected him to be the walking delegate of the rival 
 labor federation. But Austin assured them that he 
 was not even a member of a union ; whereupon they 
 
 229
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 invited him to join one ; and he profited by their good 
 will to obtain a letter of introduction to their central 
 organization in Boston. 
 
 So, this work done, he returned by the afternoon 
 train to New York, to find Dorothy already gone to 
 bed, it being still Lent. Through the door, she 
 begged him not to disturb her ; she had come home 
 tired from a dinner. He was tired, too, and he 
 turned away, almost relieved. There had been grow 
 ing up by tacit consent a habit of evading occasions 
 demanding intimacy between them ; the perfunctory 
 kiss, given downstairs, before the maid, he could per 
 form ; more than this they avoided. And in the 
 morning he had his breakfast alone, and went down 
 town without disturbing her. 
 
 At the office he found his work cut out. Mar- 
 koff, in his absence, had not been idle. It had been 
 definitely announced that Phineas Tamms, now only 
 president of the half-completed Allegheny Pacific, 
 would be elected president of the Allegheny Central 
 at the annual meeting, and that meantime, at the 
 special meeting, things would go his way. In high 
 finance, a hand is rarely played out ; when one side in 
 sists, the cards are shown, or, perhaps, the mere abil 
 ity to draw them, and the game is ended. Meantime, 
 the Central stock was very low, but what did Tamms 
 care for that? All the value which he had squeezed 
 
 230
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 out of it he had simply to pour over into his Alle 
 gheny Pacific stocks and bonds, and of these he 
 owned the printing press. All this was pretty 
 gloomy ; Gresham was depressed ; Austin s success at 
 Nauchester seemed to be already forgotten ; Breese 
 had been badgering them with letters, and even 
 Levison Gower was anxious. The cheaper Wall 
 Street publications were already terming Tamms the 
 Napoleon of Finance, and predicting his control of 
 all the railroads in the country ; while Augustus Mar- 
 koff was " the great corporation attorney." Austin 
 went to John Haviland; but that gentleman could 
 give him little help. He could only keep him posted 
 on Markoff s loans ; meantime, Mr Breese was re 
 ported to have failed to protect his margin at the 
 Old Dutch bank he dealt with. Yes, he supposed his 
 daughter had gone home to her grandmother. 
 
 " Then we can do nothing? " said old Mr 
 Gresham, on his return. Austin said nothing, but 
 began delving in the old laws of Maryland. 
 
 " The Miners Bank have got involved with him 
 to the extent of a million or more they have finally 
 put the loan in our hands to collect. But Tamms 
 puts us off with promises." 
 
 " The security is ample at present prices," said 
 Austin now. " I suppose you d hardly force him to 
 make an assignment." 
 
 231
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " Assign ? If I could break him forever, drive 
 him from the Street but nothing short of State 
 prison would keep him away. Look here, Pinckney " 
 (for the young man had again looked up, surprised 
 at his elder s manner), "once before this Tamms 
 was allowed his way in Wall Street, and as a result 
 my oldest friend, my first client, a generous, noble 
 gentleman, lies in a dishonored grave. You may 
 have heard that this man was once a partner of 
 Charles Townley. His wife died with him, and soon 
 after Peter Livingston, Townley s oldest friend, 
 whose trust his firm betrayed, died, too." 
 
 " Mrs Rastacq s father ? " said Austin. 
 
 " Yes then the poor girl married for money. 
 I was present that day at the Columbian Club when 
 Livingston, who was the oldest member, drew the ink 
 across his old friend s name on the list. I never 
 shall forget it, and just then dear old Townley him 
 self came in, and he had lost his mind. He took me 
 for his dead son." The telephone rang, and Austin 
 went to it. 
 
 " It is Mr Breese," he said. " He wants to see 
 me at once at the Fifth Avenue Hotel." 
 
 " You had better go," said Mr Gresham. " He 
 may know something." 
 
 It was the beginning of a long spring storm, and 
 Austin walked up under gloomy skies. He always 
 
 232
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 walked up now, and this time he took Centre Street 
 and Tompkins Square a " bare ruined choir where 
 late the sweet birds sang " to him, but not so com 
 monly esteemed, and to-day, it must be admitted, 
 naked and uninviting. At home, where he called, 
 the skies were no cheerier. Dorothy had arranged 
 the tea, but there was no caller. " Do you see what 
 the papers say of Markoff now? " It was the Even 
 ing Glare she pointed to, a journal not highly con 
 sidered. And then it appeared that she had sent 
 one of her cards to Markoff for that afternoon, and 
 that he had not come. Austin said something to her 
 about the Beverly house, but she showed no interest ; 
 she was convinced " Pride s " would be " poky." 
 Then there was a ring at the door bell, and she 
 started up. " Oh, go to your club," said she, as Aus 
 tin bent down to kiss her. 
 
 " I m not going to the club, I m going to the 
 Fifth Avenue Hotel " an unlikely statement, it 
 sounded. 
 
 " I m sure I don t care where you are going," 
 said she, refusing her lips, so that his mustache just 
 brushed her cheek as Mamie Rastacq entered the 
 room close on the maid s announcement. 
 
 Austin started back; he had not seen her since 
 that night at Lenox. 
 
 " Oh, I am so glad I interrupted," said the lady, 
 16 233
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 unabashed. " Petrus Gansevoort says you don t live 
 together any more. Now I shall be able to contra 
 dict it." And she extended her hand to Austin with 
 the frankest good-fellowship, and looked merrily 
 into Austin s eyes. Perhaps there was a gleam of 
 malice in them ; at all events he (we do not pose him 
 as a blameless hero he was just a man) was angry 
 enough to answer to the effect that she any woman, 
 his gentler self corrected must know that a kiss did 
 not always entail such consequences. 
 
 " And whose fault is it? " the lovely lady asked, 
 with gaze engagingly direct ; then she turned laugh 
 ingly to Dorothy. It must be admitted, Mamie was 
 a good fellow. But Austin got himself out of the 
 house, half relieved, half angry, that their first meet 
 ing had passed off so easily. She evidently felt no 
 abasement ; she preened her plumage as gayly again 
 as any song bird after a shower; it was he who suf 
 fered. Yet though Austin would have perjured 
 himself to the contrary before any tribunal except 
 his own soul it was she who had held up her lips. 
 But what had she meant by speaking so of Petrus 
 Gansevoort? Their past relations, Gansevoort s and 
 theirs, were well known, and no one had ever before 
 dared mention them to him. Well, that was part of 
 the price he had to pay. So he broke his word to 
 Dorothy and went to the club. He could not bear 
 
 234
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Mr Breese at present. He must see some men men 
 of Mamie Rastacq s world. He had made himself fit 
 for none other. And this desire was gratified ; for 
 the first person he saw lounging at an avenue window 
 was Petrus Gansevoort himself. Naturally, they cut 
 one another. Austin went to another window where 
 he sarcastically set himself to reading an indecent 
 French periodical. Fortunately, in a minute, Major 
 Brandon came in. He also was in his most cynical 
 of moods. Austin tried to tell him something about 
 Nauchester, the life at the mills there, the social con 
 dition of the mill girls ; he asked him what he thought 
 could be done. 
 
 " Don t know," broke in the Major roughly. 
 " Great mistake, to trouble about young women s 
 souls." 
 
 Austin was silent. He had tried it once. Was 
 the Major thinking of that? 
 
 " The good ones do a d d sight more harm 
 than the bad ones," the Major said next. 
 
 Austin was, for a moment, startled. Yes, he 
 had taken cure of her soul, and had failed, and it 
 did seem the Major was thinking of that, for he went 
 on further. 
 
 " Hear you re not going to Newport this sum 
 mer. Good thing, too. At last, you remember tis 
 the ring finger holds the curb." 
 
 235
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " I don t like the place for my wife s sister," said 
 Austin. 
 
 " Oh, rot your deceased wife s sister the Eng 
 lish know a thing or two keep your wife alive. 
 Good story, that." He pointed to a picture in the 
 comic paper ; it was of a dinner party ; a man was 
 sitting opposite a lady whose dress was slipping 
 from her shoulders and staring at her with all his 
 eyes ; the legend had him asked why he stared so at 
 his wife, and the answer was that he never saw her 
 much at home. 
 
 " Dirt," said Austin. The Major shrugged his 
 shoulders. 
 
 " Dirt s all very well in its place," said he. Just 
 then, an amazing thing happened. Petrus Ganse- 
 voort calmly walked in to their window and took the 
 chair on the other side of the Major, first spreading 
 his chest in the window, with a deliberate stare at 
 Austin. He was a heavy, stupid man, already veined 
 in the face and with pendulous jowls. Then he sat 
 down. 
 
 " Major," said he, " what do you do when a 
 pretty woman tells you she no longer lives with her 
 husband ? " 
 
 Mr Gansevoort had not been able to maintain his 
 gaze on Mr Pinckney. Had he done so, it is possible 
 there would have been a scandal in the club. But if 
 
 236
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 the Major felt any alarm, his face did not mani 
 fest it. 
 
 " Well, in my own experience," he answered 
 drolly, " I have always begun about then to study 
 the role of Joseph." Then he shouted, without ap 
 parent connection, " Brazen it out, Peter ! brazen it 
 out ! " His louder tones attracted the attention of 
 others in the room ; Gansevoort colored and, some 
 what clumsily, got himself away. " Those gray 
 eyes of his looked the size of saucers," Brandon said 
 afterwards to some friends in the room. They had 
 not, of course, heard Gansevoort s speech; and Gan- 
 sevoort s eyes were small and brown with pinkish 
 lids. It was evident that the Major did not refer 
 to Gansevoort. 
 
 But Austin cared not a straw for Gansevoort; 
 moreover, he knew that he was lying, in what he had 
 said to Mrs Rastacq, that is ; here, his statement, 
 fortunately for him, had been general. For Doro 
 thy had never spoken to Gansevoort since their 
 marriage. Austin s mind was already upon other 
 things. He was sick of this place, too. Moreover, 
 it was more than time to go to the Fifth Avenue 
 Hotel. He waited until Gansevoort left the room, 
 to make sure that he had nothing further to say; 
 then followed, a few seconds after, and saw that 
 gentleman s coat-tails disappearing in a toilet 
 
 237
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 room. Austin then walked out, into Twenty-first 
 Street. 
 
 " Dirt, it all is," he was thinking. " Dirt and 
 money. Money and dirt." The words rang into a 
 refrain like the bells of St. Helen s. Breese with 
 his Mrs Beaumont, Gansevoort with his coryphees, 
 Van Kull with his demivierges. Yes, and frank, per 
 verse Mamie with Mrs Gower, high priestess, and her 
 postulants at Flosheim ; and then Tamms, and her 
 husband s millions ; now, old Breese with his little 
 pittance and something here gave a grip to his 
 heart. 
 
 Breese was not only in, but anxiously waiting at 
 the vestibule. " I want you to meet a very particular 
 friend of mine pon honor, there s good reason for 
 it she s largely interested in Allegheny Central 
 securities Mrs Snyder, of Pittsburg. I have ven 
 tured to say that we would call upon her. She is 
 stopping here." 
 
 Somewhat puzzled, though the mystery of their 
 appointment was at least explained, Pinckney suf 
 fered himself to be led to the elevator and thence to 
 a pretentious parlor on the third floor. There he 
 met a stout lady, in a most splendid afternoon gown, 
 but faintly, perhaps, indicating a widow s weeds by 
 its alternate display (the arms were large enough to 
 
 238
 
 THE COLUMBIAN CLUB 
 
 Brazen it out, Peter ! Brazen it out !
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 repeat it several times) of black satin and pink flesh 
 seen through lace. At her ears she wore single 
 pearls the size of cherries, the weight of which had 
 pulled the lobes into longitudinal creases. On her 
 mountainous bosom she wore a large porcelain minia 
 ture of a man with a black mustache. 
 
 " My friend Mr Austin Pinckney Mr Charles 
 Austin Pinckney," said Mr Breese, pompously ac 
 centuating the surname, " who was so anxious to 
 meet you." 
 
 " Delighted, I am sure," the lady simpered. 
 
 " His wife, you know you saw her picture at 
 the ball last night in the Crier." Mr. Breese looked 
 at Austin appealingly. 
 
 " She is very tired to-day," said our hero, at a 
 venture. Mr Breese beamed approval. Austin was 
 more puzzled than ever. Throughout the interview 
 he could not make out whether Breese was showing 
 him off to Mrs Snyder or showing Mrs Snyder off 
 to him. 
 
 " I think you know Mrs Arthur Shirley," 
 prompted Breese, to Mrs Snyder. 
 
 " I met her on the committee of the Centennial 
 Exhibition; I represented Pittsburg. That was 
 when Mr Snyder was alive. Pittsburg is a bigger 
 place now." And the widow, who had contracted 
 her chest in a sigh so that her husband s miniature 
 
 239
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 had quite disappeared, at the last words expanded 
 it with a full breath of relief, causing his black mus 
 tache to appear again between the billows. 
 
 " She is his aunt." 
 
 Austin had been forced to bite his lip at the men 
 tion of greater Pittsburg; and now he really felt 
 that he must say something about business. But 
 Mr Breese demurred to mention of business before 
 a lady, and she asked if they would not like a glass 
 of champagne. Even Mr Breese did not dare meet 
 Austin s eye on this, and they took their leave. 
 Then, with a humorous contraction of an eyelid 
 normally dropped by gout, he explained in the 
 hall, " Mrs Snyder thinks she is seeing New York 
 society." 
 
 But Austin, who had little sense of humor that 
 day, impatiently asked about business. 
 
 " She lias got some stock. I met her at my 
 broker s. And now I want you to go down to Balti 
 more and fight that meeting. You ll have to be 
 there some days before, and lay your wires secretly. 
 And my daughter is down there with her grand 
 mother, and I want to write to her that you are com 
 ing. Miss Ravenel, I mean ; you understand, I am 
 not on good terms with the grandmother the 
 mother-in-law relation is really an impossible one 
 but my little girl, I am happy to say, has been true 
 
 240
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 to me." Mr Breese spoke with some pathos. " And 
 her welfare also is involved in this." 
 
 (John Haviland, when this part of the interview 
 was related to him, said that the damned old repro 
 bate for John would swear at times took it all, 
 all the income, that is. ) 
 
 " Mrs Warfield s pension dies with her you 
 knew she was an admiral s daughter? They are 
 very proud of the name Ravenel he went off in a 
 torpedo boat, I mean a gunboat, at Algiers, and 
 never came back 1815 or thereabout that s why 
 they stick to it so. The old place is valueless, and, 
 I suppose, Warfield saw it mortgaged all right no 
 slaves now, you know. I ll write to Mary that 
 you re coming." 
 
 " No, no, don t do that," cried Austin. " I ve 
 already told Gresham I d go down. But really I 
 prefer being at a hotel or the clubs." 
 
 " Well," said Breese, " I know a club can make a 
 man more comfortable than two women. But you 
 must run out and see the old place it s rum Rav 
 enel, I mean." 
 
 Austin said he would, and got away. The rain 
 had increased and the streets turned to mud. " Gold 
 and dirt earth and gold." What else was to be in 
 his life ? He got home ; Mrs Rastacq had gone, any 
 how ; his wife was upstairs. On the hall salver he 
 
 241
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 saw a note addressed to him. Why did his heart 
 give a great leap? He had never seen the hand 
 writing before. 
 
 The note paper bore the Havilands familiar 
 address, but it ran : 
 
 " MY DEAR MR PINCKNEY : 
 
 "Grace, who has a bad hand, has asked me to write 
 you she hopes you will come to lunch here Sunday. 
 We want to hear about the Nauchester people. 
 
 " Yours sincerely, 
 
 "MARY RAVENEL." 
 
 XXXII 
 
 IT rained furiously for two days, though it is 
 possible Austin did not notice the fact particu 
 larly before the Sunday afternoon. He was at the 
 office before nine on the next day ; at eleven, rang his 
 bell and asked if Mr Gresham had arrived, and, if 
 so, would he come into his (Pinckney s) room a 
 moment ? 
 
 " I think I have got it, sir," he said simply ; and 
 he pointed to one of several open volumes on his desk. 
 Now, it should be explained that in Maryland, as in 
 most States, the Legislature, for the convenience of 
 the multitude and the confusion of the lawyer, en-
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 acts, every twenty years or so, a general " revision," 
 containing all the laws supposed to be then in force ; 
 and the careless lawyer is apt to presume that it does 
 so. But besides this there is the usual annual vol 
 ume of laws, now numbering a hundred or so, and 
 amounting to several hundred statutes a year to each 
 volume; and these statutes, ten thousand or more, 
 from early colony times to now, remain in force un 
 less expressly repealed by the last " code." And for 
 the greater convenience of the lazy practitioner these 
 laws are still further divided into " public " and 
 " private " an admirable distinction if the digester 
 distinctly distinguishes ! The law to which Austin 
 pointed was in the part of the musty volume denoted 
 " private " and was the charter of a certain Accomac 
 & Pocantico Railroad Company granted in the year 
 1838. Pinckney had underlined part of the section 
 relating to stockholders meetings which, after say 
 ing they should have one vote for each share, added 
 the proviso that " only the true owners of any stock 
 should vote thereon, and if shares should be trans 
 ferred in mortgage or pledge the pledgee should not 
 be deemed the true owner for purposes of this 
 section." 
 
 " Does it mean, not even if the certificate is 
 transferred and the stock put in his name? " 
 
 " That s what it says." 
 243
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Gresham smiled. " A wise and excellent pro 
 vision, but I don t see where the Allegheny Central 
 comes in." 
 
 Austin pointed to another volume, that for 1868 ; 
 it was the act for the consolidation of the Allegheny 
 Central with the Accomac & Pocantico Railroad 
 Company, and covered several pages. Toward the 
 end of one of the middle sections was a clause to the 
 effect that the new consolidated company should be 
 vested with " all the franchises, exemptions, rights, 
 powers, duties, or privileges of either constituent 
 company," and its members, officers, and stockhold 
 ers be subject to corresponding rules. For a mo 
 ment the old gentleman s eyes had glistened; then 
 he put down the book. 
 
 " This will never have escaped MarkofF." 
 
 " I think it will," said Austin. " These are old 
 Private Acts. The charter of the big railroad, given 
 in 1849, is in the Public Acts. It is also a canal 
 company ; and the revision of 1 878 only incorpo 
 rates the general railroad act of 1852 which only 
 applied to railroads hereafter incorporated, and 
 the reviser of 1878 sapiently left these two words 
 out." 
 
 " All charters were made subject to amendment 
 or alteration at the pleasure of the Legislature." 
 
 " Not in 1828," said Austin. " The Dartmouth 
 244
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 College case was decided in 1819, but the Maryland 
 Legislature didn t discover it and enact the usual 
 safeguard until 1832." 
 
 " This Accomac charter is therefore perpetual? " 
 
 " I don t see why not," said Austin. " My only 
 doubt was whether a stockholders vote was an ex 
 emption, right, power, duty, or privilege of the 
 corporation. The only thing they were after was 
 the exemption from taxes it contained." 
 
 " Young man, you will be a good lawyer, better 
 than I ever was, but I can help you now." Austin 
 blushed like a boy. " As a practical question Mar- 
 koff will never be able to rest on this stockholders 
 meeting if he votes the pledged shares. No banker 
 will take his new securities. We ourselves would 
 never certify his precious preferred stock to be legal. 
 A cloud on the title is all we want. What I fear is, 
 first, there won t be any pledged shares voted for 
 that you must go to Baltimore to find out; second, 
 that Markoff will be onto it, particularly if we pro 
 test the right to vote on the shares, or some of his 
 local attorneys will, if he is not." 
 
 " We won t protest the votes ; we ll protest the 
 vote," said Austin. 
 
 Gresham looked at him admiringly. 
 
 " I ll declare the whole vote illegal, and he won t 
 know why. And he won t have any local attorney. 
 
 245
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 His game is too sharp to trust a confederate, and 
 his brain too brilliant to divvy on its inventions." 
 Austin laughed with pleasure. 
 
 "You mean, he ll hog it all?" When Mr 
 Gresham stooped to slang, he was in his most confi 
 dential humor. 
 
 " I was at the Law School with him." 
 
 " Pinckney, you need no help from me. The 
 meeting is on Monday. Better go down to-night 
 and work around Saturday in Baltimore." 
 
 " I think, sir," stammered Austin, " Sunday 
 night will do. I am in correspondence with the bank 
 there; but one such vote is as good as a hundred 
 after the meeting has adjourned. Tamms is certain 
 to vote the stock pledged to his firm. He had it all 
 put in his own name before he borrowed on it at 
 the Miners Bank. And the meeting is not till 
 two." 
 
 " So that Markoff can run down on the morning 
 train. Miss Aylwin can go down by the same or 
 stay, is he sharp eyed? " 
 
 " Where a pretty woman is concerned," laughed 
 Austin. 
 
 " A Jew never hesitates between a pretty woman 
 and a dollar, though. Read your * Nibelungen - 
 remember Alberich s oath." 
 
 Austin knew his senior to be a man of culture, 
 246
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 but was surprised at the range of it. " Only he 
 the hoard attaineth who the chain of love for 
 swears, " he hummed. 
 
 " Precisely. He ll think she s a country-woman 
 that she got on in New Jersey looking after her 
 stocks. Miss Aylwin ! " He rang the bell and that 
 young woman entered, looking very pretty, mature, 
 and dignified in her simple black dress. " Miss Ayl 
 win, I want you to go to Baltimore, on the early 
 Monday morning train, to the meeting of the Alle 
 gheny Central at the Eutaw House. Take short 
 hand notes of everything that is said. Mr Pinck- 
 ney will have arrived there before you and will leave 
 with the clerk a note for you giving his telephone 
 number. And kindly consider yourself under his 
 orders. Have you got the proxy ? " 
 
 Austin drew from his pocket a proxy slip ; it 
 was for 200 shares in the name of " Miles Breese and 
 James G. Gresham, trustees for Mary Ravenel," and 
 signed by Gresham only. He handed it over to Miss 
 Aylwin. 
 
 " Am I to vote it, sir ? " She spoke to Pinckney 
 for the first time. 
 
 " Only if there is no opposition. If the proxy is 
 objected to, desist at once, but make protest in such 
 a way that it can be proved you were prevented. 
 Notice particularly the number of shares announced 
 
 247
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 by the clerk as present. If you have any doubt what 
 to do, telephone me." 
 
 " Austin," said Mr Gresham as he went out, 
 " Miss Aylwin must not be the only person in the 
 hall besides Markoff and the clerk." 
 
 " I ve seen to that, sir," laughed the pleased 
 junior. " It is to be the greatest meeting Allegheny 
 Central ever saw. There ll be a good lively opposi 
 tion, if only to disarm suspicion." Mr Gresham 
 again started to go ; then he put his head in again. 
 
 " Austin, if Tamms votes those proxies, couldn t 
 we make it a fraud, a criminal offense? " 
 
 " I m afraid not, sir. He does everything under 
 the advice of Markoff." 
 
 " Who will, I suppose, advise him how to avoid 
 going to jail but not how to avoid going to hell. 
 Well, well do what you can." 
 
 Austin laughed light-heartedly as he closed his 
 desk. He walked uptown, humming the " Rhein- 
 gold " melody, in the rain. What did the storm mat 
 ter? Dorothy, he found, was gone to Tuxedo for 
 the week-end; she had recently made him become a 
 member of that institution, which had special apart 
 ments for absentee wives, besides " kennels " in case 
 of children. She had not even left a note asking 
 him to follow. That did not matter, either, he 
 thought for a moment sadly. But he could not be
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 sad long. He dined early, at an Italian restaurant, 
 with some labor men trades-union leaders whose 
 acquaintance he had made by means of his Boston 
 letter. Then, when they left for their country 
 trains, he went to the Metropolitan. The opera was 
 the " Rheingold ! " 
 
 XXXIII 
 
 THE great storm continued all the night, Sun 
 day morning relaxing a little, as if to let 
 people go to church. Shortly after noon the down 
 pour became so violent that even Austin noticed it. 
 In the morning he had walked to Claremont Hill and 
 back, amid the budding May ; after one (he did not 
 wish to be too early) he rang at the Havilands , and 
 was ushered into the narrow New York library, 
 doubly dark on that dismal day. Gracie Haviland 
 was sitting on a long ottoman, and beside it, as he 
 shook her hand, he was conscious of another presence. 
 He did not dare look often at Miss Ravenel even in 
 the dim room ; her cordial greeting he drank in, then 
 turned to Grace. But at the table, she was oppo 
 site; it was natural to look at her, as they broke 
 bread together ; how beautiful she was ! He hoped 
 that no one else might see it. She looked more like 
 a young girl to-day ; he wondered how old she was 
 17 249
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 twenty-two? twenty-four? They wanted to hear 
 about the Nauchester strike; as well as he could, 
 Austin told them. Again he was struck with her 
 strange maturity of views ; it was the perfect purity, 
 the grace, of her own spirit, that gave her prescient 
 mind so large a view. And Austin thought of that 
 saying of the Evangelist about the Virgin " Jesus 
 went down into Nazareth, but she stayed at home, 
 knowing these things" 
 
 He told them of the mill girls, their essential 
 right-heartedncss with all their boldness and aban 
 don, their surface vulgarity ; of their dislike of all 
 dictation as to how they should lead their lives, even 
 of the salutary rules and regulations devised for 
 them by well-meaning ladies. 
 
 " They have their own latchkey," said John. 
 " With the latchkey goes everything. The bicycle 
 was significant, but the latchkey is the symbol of 
 complete freedom. It is ridiculous to withhold the 
 ballot when you concede the latchkey." 
 
 " John," said Grace, in a tone of voice. Mrs 
 Haviland was a leader of the anti-woman-suffragists ; 
 and thereupon John told Austin as much. 
 
 " How distressing," laughed Miss Ravenel, " that 
 in these days so many virtuous causes should have to 
 be indicated by negatives ! " 
 
 " The woman operatives do not want the suf- 
 250
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 frage," said Austin. " They are thinking of other 
 things." 
 
 " The ballot might occupy their minds instead 
 of flirtations," John urged. 
 
 " They are not thinking of flirtations," said Aus 
 tin sternly. " They are leading their own lives." 
 He could not bear to have such subjects treated flip 
 pantly in the presence of Miss Ravenel. " If they 
 have not the sentiment, they have the sense." 
 
 " It is the Society women, the club women 
 of small towns, the women whose husbands spend 
 their evenings at the lodge, mostly, that want the 
 suffrage," contributed John, who saw that Austin 
 wanted to treat the subject seriously. 
 
 " Dowered with the sway of life or death 
 They cry for coarser tools, " 
 
 said our Carolinian. 
 
 " I am sure that we see and know better without 
 having the vote," said Miss Ravenel. " But if 
 women are to be as men knowing good and evil is 
 it not right that they should have their liberty of 
 action? When you take free will away from a fair 
 deed, you have taken all its virtue. Perhaps the 
 mill girls are right in demanding a larger life, cer 
 tainly one not monastic. The great pity is that so 
 
 251
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 few can hope for a woman s natural right, the right 
 of her heart to love and be loved." 
 
 Austin looked at her, during this speech, as he 
 might have looked at Thekla in the arena, which 
 was, perhaps, what suggested John s next remark; 
 it was, " What else did he see in New Hampshire? " 
 
 " Well," said Austin, " for one thing, I discov 
 ered American literature; I learned what the people 
 are reading." And he took out the book list he had 
 copied and passed it round the table. 
 
 " How many of these books do you suppose are 
 to be found in the Astor library in any library ? " 
 said John, much interested. 
 
 " I don t know very few, I should fancy. Tol 
 stoi and George and Bellamy and Victor Hugo 
 Garland, of course, and Altgeld, in some I 
 tried myself to find Bebel, at the Mercantile, and 
 couldn t." 
 
 " Ingersoll, I suppose." 
 
 " In every village library. He advertised him 
 self widely to the lower middle classes by insulting 
 the Deity the thought was not original." 
 
 " I knew you were a churchman, but I did not 
 know you were an aristocrat," laughed the older 
 man. 
 
 " I am not. I mean the lower classes intellectu 
 ally. Some of that lower class are millionaires 
 
 252
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 the class, when piously inclined, that go to Mrs 
 Eddy but do not read St. John." 
 
 " Will you give me the list? " said Miss Ravenel. 
 " I should like to see how many of my girls have 
 read these books. I know something of Helen Gard 
 ner," she added as Austin put the paper in her hand 
 hesitatingly. " After all," she merrily ended, " they 
 have not risen to Ella Wheeler Wilcox ! " 
 
 " Or any poetry," said Austin. 
 
 " I fear it is too little in their lives. Do you 
 know, I have a mind to make a serious study of this 
 literature? " 
 
 " Let us divide it," said Austin hastily. 
 
 " By all means a reading committee," said 
 John, seeing Pinckney s drift. " You and I will 
 take all the plums Grace can do the heavy atheistic, 
 Miss Ravenel the social and economic." 
 
 " Oh," said Miss Ravenel as the party rose, " I 
 must read From Seamstress to Duchess. I should 
 just love to be a duchess, to meet duchesses!" She 
 said the word with the prettiest little moue, as of one 
 who enjoys a luscious morsel. 
 
 " Then you must stay in New York, or go on the 
 stage," said Haviland. " When do you leave, by 
 the way ? " 
 
 " To-morrow. I am going down to Baltimore 
 to-morrow and out to Ravenel." 
 
 253
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " I am going down to-night," said Austin 
 frankly. 
 
 " Shall you be there long? You must come out 
 and see us." 
 
 " Several days. I am going down about the 
 Allegheny Central fight." 
 
 " Allegheny Central why, that s all my vast 
 fortune ! Mr Pinckney, you are my attorney ! Of 
 course, you must come out and see us." 
 
 " Well," said John, " if you won t smoke, Austin, 
 I must leave you two to discuss your law business. 
 Gracie has to take the carriage for an hour, but 
 she ll be back before tea and, Miss Ravenel, you 
 must let us send you down it s storming fright 
 fully." 
 
 (Her attorney ! Her knight-errant had been 
 better, but the possessive was everything. Austin 
 stood like one who sees the trees walking. He saw 
 Miss Ravenel walk toward the fire. She sat down. 
 Was her gesture one of dismissal, or did she indi 
 cate a seat to him?) 
 
 " You must take the train for Frederick," she 
 was saying, " or you might even ride." 
 
 They were sitting in the dark room ; against the 
 street windows the storm was beating ; but the fire was 
 between them, and through the open window behind 
 him came the fragrance of a bough of blossoming 
 
 254
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 lilac. But still, he talked of their one subject in 
 common labor questions, the human life that ebbed 
 and flowed around them. Possibly their talk became 
 more earnest as the twilight deepened; certainly, he 
 did not laugh any more. What he said came from 
 his truest belief no half-believed-in thing, no 
 thought of pose, still less of any jesting humor, 
 seemed worth while. As it grew still darker, Miss 
 Ravenel seemed to grow more thoughtful her un 
 fathomable clear eyes were fixed upon the embers. 
 He permitted his own eyes, now, to rest upon her 
 face. It seemed that his talk must have come to an 
 end. 
 
 " I must go," said the girl, suddenly jumping 
 up. " I had no idea it was so late." The clock was 
 striking five. 
 
 " But you must wait for Mrs Haviland." 
 
 " I really cannot. I have something I must do 
 at home." 
 
 " You cannot walk in this rain." 
 
 " Oh, yes." 
 
 It was now pouring a very deluge. 
 
 " You must not," said Austin firmly. " If you 
 won t wait for John I must have a carriage myself 
 I ll get one." They were in the hall, the girl put 
 ting on her light waterproof ; Austin did not stop to 
 help her, but, umbrellaless, ran to the corner of Mad- 
 
 255
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 ison Avenue, where he was fortunate enough to find 
 a carriage, and came quickly back in it. 
 
 " I beg you go home in this." 
 
 " But I shall be taking your carriage." 
 
 " It is not my carriage ; I found it on the corner. 
 Good-by." And Austin held out his hand, with, I 
 suppose, something of a dog s expression in his eyes. 
 
 " You are all wet. If it s my carriage, I can t 
 let you walk in the rain," said Miss Ravenel im 
 pulsively. " Get in ! " 
 
 Get in. When good Master Beckmesser bids 
 Walther Stortzing sing of spring the song he 
 learned from Walther von der Vogelweide he says, 
 " Begin." And Walther opens his song with the 
 word, and the spring begins. Her two words fell 
 like some such melody upon his heart. Only that 
 Walther was conscious of his song, and Austin, still, 
 was as innocent of any conscious love as was the girl 
 herself. He did not recognize it: he had never been 
 in love before. He was six years older, but it was 
 possible the girl would recognize it first. 
 
 Austin closed the door. He had had to ask her 
 address. The cabman turned around to Park Ave 
 nue. It was the shortest way. 
 
 He never could remember what was said upon 
 this drive. Later, when he knew, he would try to 
 remember, when these (ah, how pitiably few!) rare 
 
 256
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 moments with her he would count over to himself, in 
 the coming lean years when he would have bartered 
 seven years of his own life for as many hours of 
 hers. He remembered that he looked at her, and it 
 was Thirty-fourth Street ; she was saying something 
 to him and her gentle eyes looked straight before 
 her, eyes so gentle that they were redeemed from 
 softness only by the brave straight brow that made 
 a shade above. Now they were at Lexington Ave 
 nue. All was over, they were there. 
 
 He helped her out ; he held the umbrella over her. 
 She insisted on paying for the carriage a half dol 
 lar. Austin put it in his pocket (the cabby got a 
 bill instead) and was about to ring the bell. " No, 
 no ; you see I too have a latchkey," the girl laughed. 
 Austin looked at the stained-glass door, the inde 
 scribably squalid entrance to a New York " flat," 
 and his heart sank, but not for that alone. 
 
 " Good-by," said Miss Ravenel, putting out her 
 head. 
 
 " Good-by," said Austin. There was a pause. 
 
 " And don t forget to come to Ravenel," she 
 added simply. The door closed as Austin bounded 
 down the steps no more carriage for him. On sec 
 ond thoughts, he entered it, and bade the coachman 
 drive to Central Park. (She must believe he went 
 home in it.) At the park (the carriage had been a
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 memory of her, and the world smelled of the dust 
 of roses) he dismissed the cabman, stupefied (he 
 haunted, for weeks after, the corner of Thirty-fifth 
 Street and Madison Avenue), and walked; the storm 
 was breaking at last, in the Easter Sunday sunset; 
 the birds sang softly ; the earth lay under a Good 
 Friday spell. There is no maid in " Parsifal," 
 though, only Kundry. 
 
 He could bear no man s presence ; he got some 
 food at the Claremont, then he walked way back to 
 Eleventh Street and entered the empty house. He 
 called no one, but packed his things himself. If the 
 thought crossed his mind of waiting for the morning 
 train, it was rejected. He did not want to see her 
 again, not yet. 
 
 The river was full of lights, but after a few 
 miles, the night was quiet and mild. There was an 
 " observation " car, which he found he had to him 
 self. The night was so mild that he even sat out 
 on the rear loggia (why not call it a loggia?) to 
 smoke; he loved to hear (as he could, when the train 
 was still) the spring noises, the tree toads, the piping 
 of the frogs in the marshes, the thin-gs that are in 
 Schubert s C major symphony; still smoking, the 
 gray dawn found him, reaching its long pallor down 
 the dim still water of the Susquehanna ; over there 
 lay the Laurel Ridge; somewhere there, she had 
 
 258
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 said, was Ravenel; in the Baltimore cavern station, 
 the puzzled porter, but proud, took his tip and de 
 posited his open bag at the hotel ; after a bath and 
 coffee he was on South Street; there he worked with 
 vigor through the morning; at two he was in a tele 
 phone booth at the hotel ; in half an hour a message 
 came from Miss Aylwin. 
 
 " I think they have counted all the votes. They 
 at first refused but then accepted mine. The busi 
 ness is begun. I think Mr Markoff recognized me." 
 Austin dropped the receiver and hurried to the Eu- 
 taw Hotel, where, showing his proxy, he demanded 
 admittance to the hall. 
 
 " The question is on the guaranty of the Alle 
 gheny Pacific bonds and the issue of the Allegheny 
 Central preferred stock as read," Tamms was say 
 ing. He was standing up before a little table on 
 which stood a pitcher of ice water. Markoff was 
 beside him ; a row of reporters were scribbling be 
 fore a lower table in front. Behind him was the 
 figure-head president. " The lease has already been 
 voted. The guaranty on the bonds and this new stock 
 make the consideration for the lease. Have all voted 
 who wish to vote? The meeting is now adjourned." 
 
 Austin stood up. " Before the meeting adjourns 
 I wish to give notice to its chairman that we shall 
 contest the vote, both upon the lease and the guar- 
 
 259
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 anty, and upon the new stock, and the validity of 
 the meeting itself," he said very distinctly. 
 
 Tamms sat suddenly down and his face turned 
 white beneath its freckles and its wiry red beard. 
 The reporters began to scribble furiously. Markoff 
 looked down at Pinckney who remained standing, 
 Miss Aylwin s minutes in his hand. Markoff s 
 glance traveled from him to her. 
 
 "On what ground, Mr Pinckney?" Tamms 
 could see the reporters dash at the name. 
 
 " On the ground that the guaranty and lease are 
 a fraud upon the stockholders, the proxies for this 
 meeting unlawfully secured, and the stock illegally 
 voted." 
 
 " On what ground, may I ask ? And whom do 
 you represent? " 
 
 " I represent Messrs Gresham, Radnor & Auer- 
 bach of New York ; and they represent the Miners 
 Bank of New York, the Philadelphia Society for 
 Granting Annuities to Survivors of the War of 1812, 
 the South Bank and the Calvert Trust Company of 
 Baltimore, and thirty-seven private stockholders, ac 
 cording to a list I have here all whose stock has 
 been voted by you as representing pledgees, not 
 real owners as the law of Maryland requires." 
 
 " The law of Maryland ? Here, Mr Pinckney, 
 is the code," smiled Markoff. 
 
 260
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " I refer to the law of the Allegheny Central 
 Railroad & Canal Company, its own charter as shown 
 in the consolidation act with the Accomac & Pocan- 
 tico Railroad, special laws of Maryland, Private 
 Acts of 1838." 
 
 For the first time, Pinckney could see Markoff 
 blanch blanch as he had seen the Yale team whiten 
 when, in Cambridge, he had played guard and on 
 the second down they failed to hold. 
 
 A reporter spoke up deferentially. " May I 
 trouble you for that reference, Mr Pinckney? " 
 
 Markoff turned and had a whispered colloquy 
 with Tamms. That gentleman seemed to breathe 
 again. His color came back, and he began rolling 
 up little paper pellets and throwing them around 
 the table. 
 
 " I move the meeting adjourn for one week," 
 said Markoff. 
 
 XXXIV 
 
 THIS, which should, in any biography of 
 Charles Austin Pinckney, be the longest 
 chapter in the book, always seemed the briefest day 
 of his own memories, and will doubtless (when Pinck- 
 ney s biography appears, as now that he is Secretary 
 of the Interior seems likely) by his biographer be 
 
 261
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 omitted entirely. For what biographer even knows 
 the real life of the man he is writing about? Ex 
 cept as in the case of some men, usually poets or 
 libertines, who have consciously revealed themselves. 
 These we know a good deal about, from Dante, 
 Heine, de Musset, to Casanova, Cellini, de Retz ; as 
 in Rousseau or (we may even suspect) St. Augus 
 tine. What did ladylike Mrs Oliphant know of the 
 real Browning? Egregious Lockhart of the real 
 Scott? Even Madame Hanska of the real Balzac? 
 Balzac was talking to Madame Hanska, as we say, 
 " through his hat," as a Frenchman always does when 
 he writes to a woman. 
 
 But we, who are writers of fiction and not of 
 biography, know the truth. We must stick to fact. 
 It is, or should be, our business to portray our heroes 
 and heroines as they really are even to dwell upon 
 those omitted chapters which were the evening and 
 the morning of the life we study. Yet even master 
 Thackeray and master (for he wrote the truth in 
 his fiction) Balzac leave much Balzac not quite so 
 much for the reader s imagination to supply. They 
 tell you, he loved her, she did not love him, almost 
 with the simplicity of Heine s formula: 
 
 " Sie war liebenswiirdig und er liebte sie, 
 Er war nicht liebenswiirdig und sie liebte ihn 
 nicht 
 
 262
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 but they do not tell you what she said to make him 
 love her, what he said to make her love him not. 
 Thackeray s intellect probably recoiled from record 
 ing Amelia s love talk, but he does not even tell us 
 what Becky Sharp said. He tells us she was very 
 clever he does not give us auricular demonstration 
 of the fact. Shakespeare goes something farther with 
 Mercutio ; but then Shakespeare was ( as the Gospel 
 Society man said of St. Paul) " our best contributor." 
 It is true, as the Catholics told the Paulicians, St. 
 Paul says a good many things that ain t so as two 
 hundred thousand Albigenses doubtless, while they 
 burned alive, realized. Balzac, too, really gives us 
 something of the conversation and moeurs of his 
 great ladies, his clever rascals, his women of the 
 town. Madame Marneffe opens her lips to us as well 
 as her dainty throat; the contemporary American 
 novelist tells you of his heroine s ebon tresses, her 
 violet eyes, her shell-like ears, her pouting lips, but 
 lets it go at that. The lips pout in silence, the 
 brilliant brain we accept as a working hypothesis. 
 
 I dare say, the other things would bore the 
 reader. Richardson surely wearied us of his Cla 
 rissa, his Grandison ; and for us moderns his chaste 
 correspondent must be abridged, the Lovelace ex 
 purgated. I dare say this chapter will weary the 
 reader if I dare go on ! And what will he think of 
 
 263
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 my poor hero when we are through with it? Wisely 
 his biography, waiting for the Carnegie libraries of 
 the land, will have no use for it for this chapter of 
 his life. 
 
 " My grandmamma, my grandmamma, 
 She had a leathern Bible, 
 And there she enters all our dates 
 The day we re born, the day we die, the day we 
 
 had the measles. 
 She never entered on its page 
 The day my heart was broken." 
 
 O cousin Amalie, cousin Amalie, was Heine think 
 ing alone of you when he wrote these lines ? I wonder. 
 He had, we know, a pretty young wife, a nice little 
 girl, cuddible, like a kitten, pretty as our Dorothy 
 and without her social ambition, content to be at 
 home and make love to him. Clever Madame Jou- 
 bert (la Mouche, he called her), who lighted the last 
 turns of Heine s path through life, thinks (a little 
 jealous, perhaps?) that she does so rather too much. 
 Was Dante thinking always of Mrs Portinari when 
 he wrote his Provencal love song, for instance? 
 
 But they, Charles Pinckney and Mary Ravenel, 
 talked of Dante to-day ; it must come in this chap 
 ter, and here we are, still shivering on the brink of it. 
 
 Austin went straight from that railroad meeting 
 to a stable where he picked out a saddle horse; then, 
 
 264
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 stopping only to put on his riding things and send a 
 telegram, he was off and riding through the park by 
 three of the spring afternoon. 
 
 Fourteen miles, the map told him, lay between 
 there and Ravenel, which lay in the first rising foot 
 hills of the Laurel Mountains. They were quickly 
 covered ; and at five Austin found himself entering, 
 between two great posts of shattered masonry, an 
 old, old avenue, stretching straight away between 
 two rows on either side of forest trees. The trees 
 were grand, but so old that they were dying; the 
 avenue unkept ; the heaps of last year s leaves still 
 lay in the beechen hollows, the drift of magnolia 
 petals, crimson and white, lay on the new grass. 
 Tulip poplars, magnolia grandiflora, alternated with 
 great sycamores and walnut; soon, by their side 
 came down a brawling " run," tumbled freshly into 
 Maryland from Pennsylvania hills. Something re 
 minded our hero " as he rode " of the little stream 
 that redeemed Mrs Arthur Shirley s vulgar lawn and 
 then made one quick scamper for the sea. Now, 
 round hills were rising on each side, brushing the blue 
 with a wash of tender green ; on the left he could see 
 rows of empty whitewashed cabins ; the stream to 
 the right ran under two dismantled old stone mills ; 
 a cow or two grazed in what had been a deer park ; 
 gardens appeared, marvelous in their box and yew, 
 18 265
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 the beds neglected, rising in a terrace to a wall gar 
 den backed upon the stone wall of a huge barn, such 
 as hitherto he had seen only in Gloucestershire, in 
 England, and upon a long retaining wall, mellow of 
 brown stone and green moss, bulging irregularly 
 here and there where not supported by its huge stone 
 buttresses. Then the avenue plunged through a 
 dark archway, cut in the tall box trees, whose warm, 
 old-time aroma Austin never forgot ; and he appeared 
 before the portico of a long, low, white colonnaded 
 house. 
 
 Austin dismounted and pulled the bell at the 
 front door ; its reluctant clangor reverberated as 
 through an empty house. The many minutes that 
 elapsed indicated little habitude of visits ; Austin was 
 quite willing to wait there, and he did not ring again. 
 At last there was a sound of shuffling steps, the door 
 groaned open, and there appeared an old white- 
 headed negro, shabby and of courtly manners. 
 
 " Mrs Warfield is at home, sir. Miss Ravenel 
 has not yet arrived." 
 
 "Not arrived?" 
 
 The butler pulled a wire and the boom of a great 
 bell startled Austin ; it was hung in the branches of 
 a huge sycamore that stood in the cobblestoned court 
 yard beyond the archway that led under the second 
 story of the long house, to the servants offices ; its 
 
 266
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 clamor might easily have been heard across the val 
 ley for half a mile or more. 
 
 As the butler evidently expected it, Austin suf 
 fered himself to be inducted into a vast drawing- 
 room, where the butler brought him cake and wine ; 
 it was dark with mahogany ; its unpainted wooden 
 floor hardly relieved by rugs, its walls almost bare 
 of furniture; altogether it had the look of an apart 
 ment that had been stripped in times of war; only, 
 there were many sombre family portraits in the 
 panels, portraits that would not have relieved the 
 gloom but for the scarlet, the buff and blue, and, later 
 still, the blue and gold, of the uniforms they repre 
 sented. One, the latest of all, was a very young 
 man in the dress of an American naval officer of the 
 War of 1812; the placard bore the lettering " Com 
 modore Ravenel, U. S. N. Born July 11, 1784. 
 Died in August, 1816." A commodore at thirty- 
 two ! There was also a painting of a small ship, 
 almost a pinnace, evidently done from memory or 
 imagination, for the Pillars of Hercules were indi 
 cated on either side and, in the background, a stormy 
 Atlantic. It bore the legend " U. S. sloop of war 
 Hornet. Sailed from Tripoli with dispatches Au 
 gust 2, 1816; never reported." Then there were 
 portraits of Rutledges, Raouls, one of a Warfield, 
 also in the navy. But it was evidently a Ravenel 
 
 267
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 house. And there was one a beautiful Copley 
 fine as any Sir Joshua, but with the strange New- 
 World delicacy that was all his own of a Miss Rolf 
 Ravenel, " granddaughter of Princess Pocahontas." 
 The present Miss Ravenel had much her look, 
 thought Austin, when, hearing the rustle of a silk 
 dress, he rose to see, as he felt sure, the original be 
 fore him. No, that was of course impossible a 
 granddaughter again, perhaps. Yet she was very 
 old, certainly eighty, but with eyes as brightly black, 
 dress as coquettishly perfect, neck as snowy, where 
 it showed, as any older French marquise or (though 
 a touch more soigne, perhaps) of any girl s of seven 
 teen. She dropped a little courtesy, and Pinckney 
 ceremoniously bowed. 
 
 " You are welcome to Ravenel, Mr Pinckney, 
 welcome as any Pinckney would be, but you are 
 doubly so, for my daughter has spoken much of you." 
 
 Pinckney s face burned. He turned away to 
 look at the picture. 
 
 " That is my father." Her father ! " He was 
 never heard of again. You see, I was married at 
 fifteen and, you must know, I am nearing ninety. 
 I call Mary my daughter; of course she is only my 
 granddaughter. Her mother was not married as 
 young as I." 
 
 Nearing ninety ! Was it the French charm, the 
 268
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 old Huguenot blood, that made this slender little 
 bright-eyed lady lovable yet? Austin turned from 
 her to the picture with the air of one who reveren 
 tially salutes. " You are fortunate in having the 
 picture, Mrs Warfield." 
 
 " Yes, when the British captured Washington 
 they left us little else. Of course, at that time, 
 the portrait of Commodore Ravenel had not been 
 painted. But the Yankees were here, in sixty-one 
 and in sixty-three." 
 
 " Your father is wearing blue," said Pinckney. 
 
 " Well said, my young friend, and I know your 
 family sided with the North. But I know that your 
 great-grandfather refused to go with his father to 
 England and join the Tories. And he used to run 
 away at night to mount guard with the Continental 
 soldiers at Annapolis. Jared Sparks, the Yankee, 
 tells us that." 
 
 " Massachusetts and Virginia made the war," 
 said Austin. 
 
 " And South Carolina you and I may say so." 
 
 " There is little left of my family. My three 
 sisters are much older than I and their children are 
 all German. My wife and I have no children." Aus 
 tin spoke with the faintest possible stress, which, it 
 seemed, the old lady noticed ; for, as if to put him at 
 his ease, she answered: 
 
 269
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " I knew that you were married, but I did not 
 know you had no children. Well, well, there are to 
 be no Ravenels any more and Miles Warfield was the 
 last of his race better so than to have a line run 
 down as did the Breeses. You know, Miles Breese 
 was my daughter s cousin. I must frankly tell you 
 that I abhor him." 
 
 " Miss Ravenel seems devoted." 
 
 " He is her father. He is only my son-in-law. 
 And I hated him from the time I made my daughter 
 marry him. That was my remorse. My daughter 
 had some fantastic remorse of her own for having 
 left him, or for having divorced him, after her boy 
 died. The Warfields, you know, are gentle, easy 
 going people, and very religious. They think divorc 
 ing is sinful. We Ravenels think it only unneces 
 sary." And the old lady s dark eyes flashed. It was 
 easy to see where Miss Ravenel got her spirit from. 
 
 Austin rose to go. " I am so sorry not to see 
 Miss Ravenel." 
 
 " What ? Nothing of the sort. Of course, you 
 are going to spend the night. Mary came on to 
 day, I know she has stopped in Baltimore about 
 some of her classes her poor people. She will be 
 out by the evening train." 
 
 A night beneath her roof ! But as Austin felt 
 his heart s blood rush to his heart, his head resolved. 
 
 270
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " I fear it is quite impossible. I have nothing with 
 me " so do clothes protect us, in this world ! 
 
 " Well, come out to-morrow ; you must give us 
 a day at least." 
 
 " If my business permits ; I may have to go back 
 to New York." The excuse, from a South Carolina 
 Pinckney to a Ravenel, did not sound convincing. 
 
 " Fiddle-de-dee ! my daughter tells me you have 
 been of so much service and now this Allegheny 
 Railroad trouble she wrote me last night that you 
 were our attorney." 
 
 (Last night ! She was thinking about him, then, 
 last night just when he was flying through the Jer 
 sey woods it was only yesterday, he still wore the 
 faded rose he had pinned in while lunching with her 
 she must have written immediately after he had 
 left her in the doorway.) 
 
 " I shall try to," said Austin. " I really will 
 I will telegraph." 
 
 A mile from the home, galloping, he passed an 
 ancient vehicle, creaking up the hill. Alone in the 
 back seat sat Miss Ravenel. He turned and greeted 
 her. 
 
 " I am so glad to see you," she said. " I thought 
 you would come. But why did you come so soon? 
 You are not going? " 
 
 In the dusk, he could hardly see her face. He 
 271
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 strained his eyes to hers only her voice came to 
 him, cool and gentle. Really, it was hardly fair to 
 count this. 
 
 " I must I must get back to Baltimore." 
 Bravely he made the fight. " I have told Mrs War- 
 field perhaps I can come out to-morrow." 
 
 " I hope you will good night." 
 
 The greatest resolution of Austin Pinckney s 
 life now vanished. 
 
 " I will," he said. 
 
 " Come in the morning I want to show you 
 Ravenel." 
 
 Late in the evening, at the Chesapeake Club, the 
 porter handed Austin a card. It was " Mr Mar- 
 koff " in all its proud isolation of any Christian 
 name. Mr Markoff had not yet the entree of a 
 Maryland club, it appeared, so Austin consented to 
 return to the hotel. 
 
 " Austin, old man, we play cards down. I don t 
 mind admitting you ve made a score. Now, I think 
 I can make a proposition, if you ll tell me what you 
 mean to do." 
 
 The American winced a little, but saidt "We 
 have made no secret of what we want. We hold the 
 meeting void, and both the stock issue and the guar 
 anty illegal." 
 
 272
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " The stock issue, after all, has been voted by 
 the president and directors, and the contract with 
 Allegheny Pacific is legal. Tamms was undoubt 
 edly president of the Pacific, and the fact that he 
 was not then president of the Central only makes the 
 deal look still further all right the new pre 
 ferred stock has passed into the hands of innocent 
 purchasers." 
 
 " Tamms and his pledgees," said Austin dryly. 
 
 " Well, among others, the Chesapeake Trust 
 Company of Baltimore. His largest loan is there. 
 If you cancel the preferred stock, you ll ruin him." 
 
 " And if we don t, we ll ruin ten thousand old 
 stockholders, who got their money honestly, and who 
 can t make a new coup, as he can. Did he not ruin 
 old Mr Townley?" 
 
 " Oh, I see," said Markoff. " That old story- 
 well, if Gresham s in it " The wily Hebrew made 
 a volte-face. " Tell you what, Austin suppose I 
 throw up the sponge on the preferred stock? " Aus 
 tin observed the single pronoun. 
 
 " What do you want? " said he. 
 
 " You to keep quiet for a week. Time." 
 
 " I ll tell you to-morrow, at ten o clock." 
 
 Before going to bed Austin telegraphed Gresham : 
 " Chesapeake Trust Company largest lender security 
 preferred stock ; shall secure it ; also much common ; 
 
 273
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 telegraph bank to give certified check $205,000." 
 That is what the cipher meant; what it said 
 was : " Chesapeake depravest Martha hog also Mary 
 wire Maryland give me certified check palimpsest 
 palanquin." 
 
 At ten o clock Markoff came to Austin s parlor, 
 where he found Miss Aylwin with a typewriting ma 
 chine. " You won t object to a witness at our inter 
 view," Austin said. " I ve decided to agree to a 
 week s truce if you ll sign a paper agreeing to have 
 these votes reconsidered at the special meeting, by 
 the directors and stockholders as well. I also want 
 you, as Tamms s attorney, to sign a paper agreeing 
 that each lot of collateral shall stand as security for 
 any or all of his loans held by my client, the Miners 
 Bank." 
 
 Markoff looked at Austin, but said nothing. 
 
 " Miss Aylwin will prepare the paper, and you 
 can sign it. I must go now I have an engage 
 ment." A telegraph boy came in with a dispatch. 
 Austin opened it ; it was not in cipher, and he threw 
 it over to Markoff. It read: 
 
 " Market opened panicky. Central weak ; no 
 quotations Pacific. Return if possible to-day." 
 
 " Do you mind my sending this answer? " asked 
 Markoff. He wrote on a blank sheet of paper:
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " Hold up everything for a week. Possible 
 agreement with Tamms party." 
 
 " I see no objection," said Austin, as he gave 
 the message to the telegraph boy. Only, he 
 had added the words " impossible return before 
 to-morrow." 
 
 Austin went around to the Maryland Bank and 
 got his certified check for $205,000; then to the 
 Chesapeake Trust Company, where Miss Aylwin 
 awaited him. " He has signed it," she said, " both 
 papers." Austin took the one relating to the hold 
 ing of collateral and put the other in his pocket. 
 Then, Miss Aylwin with him, he entered the treas 
 urer s private office. 
 
 " Mr McTavish, I have come to take up that 
 loan of Tamms," he said. " I think you said, with 
 interest, it amounted to over two hundred and four 
 thousand dollars." 
 
 " Two hundred and four thousand six hundred 
 and sixty-six," said Mr McTavish. " We consider 
 it amply secured, even should the new preferred stock 
 be held void, but we are always happy to oblige the 
 Miners Bank. Here is the list, 20,000 shares new 
 preferred ; that s the trimming ; 2,050 shares old 
 common, and that s the beef." 
 
 " Have you got the securities ? " Austin spoke 
 not impatiently, but he was evidently in a hurry. 
 
 275
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " They are here." McTavish handed over one 
 long envelope. " I must endorse Tamms s note with 
 out recourse. 
 
 " Miss Aylwin, you will take these stocks and the 
 note, and carry them to the Maryland Bank to hold 
 for order of the Miners Bank of New York. I 
 suppose you can give Miss Aylwin an escort? " 
 
 " Surely, our most trusted messenger." They 
 left the room. Austin breathed a sigh. The extra 
 collateral on this loan made the Miners Bank secure. 
 Then, as he was taking his leave, the teller s door 
 opened. 
 
 " Mr Markoff , sir The clerk stopped as he 
 saw Pinckney. 
 
 " You may go on, Roberts." 
 
 " Mr Markoff, sir, has called with a certified 
 check to take up that $200,000 loan of Phineas 
 Tamms & Co." 
 
 " Tell him he is too late," said Mr McTavish. 
 " Good-by, Mr Pinckney." And as he met Pinck- 
 ney s eye, the canny McTavish treated himself to one 
 discreet smile. It laid Pinckney under an obligation. 
 
 Austin caught his train. He had had no lunch, 
 and when he arrived at Ravenel it was nearly three 
 o clock. She met him at the doorway. " My grand 
 mother always rests in the afternoon," she said, " but 
 
 276
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 your room is ready. I thought we should like best 
 to go to walk? We have no horses, you know. But 
 perhaps first you would like some lunch? " 
 
 " I have had my lunch," lied Austin. 
 
 Miss Ravenel led the way under the archway, 
 through the courtyard where was the great sycamore 
 tree. 
 
 " The great bell in the first branch is the old 
 slave bell. It is still rung to call in our servants 
 when we need them." 
 
 " I have heard it," said Austin. 
 
 Now they passed under an archway of clipped 
 box and stood within a rectangular garden. In the 
 four corners were wonderful Japanese yews ; the 
 flowers in this garden were kept up, and beautifully. 
 
 " It is mine," said Miss Ravenel. " You know 
 grandma cannot afford to hire labor. In the old 
 days many of the men that had been slaves used to 
 come and work in the gardens for love, but they are 
 nearly all gone now. You see her father s name is 
 still carried on the navy records, and although he 
 was only an ensign when he was lost, grandma gets 
 a commodore s pension." 
 
 Austin asked how that might be. 
 
 " A naval officer of the United States is not to be 
 presumed to have lost his ship. The loss of the 
 Hornet has never been reported. So great-grandpa s 
 
 277
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 name was duly given its promotion by seniority 
 until the retiring age." 
 
 All winds were stilled within this garden, and as 
 the two stood together by an old sundial, the warm 
 Maryland sun brought out the diverse perfume of 
 the flowers against the all-pervading, warm, strong 
 scent of the box hedges. When they ceased speak 
 ing no sound was heard except the humming of 
 the bees. 
 
 Austin had no desire to say anything. He was 
 content to watch the lovely girl ; she was simply 
 dressed in a gray skirt and shoes for walking, and 
 the long slim waist of dainty muslin seemed to him 
 a more beautiful covering than any ball dress he had 
 ever seen. Perhaps it was the shade of the broad 
 Leghorn hat that enabled her to look so straight 
 before her with wide-opened eyes. Austin felt his 
 own as if dazzled, and he looked down at the dial, 
 under pretext of reading the motto. There was a 
 motto; and it was charming: 
 
 " Venit qua? non sperabitur hora." 
 
 " I shall never forget it the hour never looked for 
 comes," said he. 
 
 " Or, the weather will be finer than you expect," 
 laughed Miss Ravenel. " The charm of Latin mot- 
 
 278
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 toes is, they may mean so many things." And she 
 bent her lissome figure, so quickly that the man had 
 not time to stoop, to clip a blossom of gardenia. 
 " Does it not remind you of a ballroom ? I hate it, 
 in a ballroom ; I grow it here on purpose. It makes 
 me so glad I am not there ! " and she stretched the 
 flower out to him to smell. He drew a long breath 
 or two, but avoided asking for it, and she pinned it 
 to her dress. They were going now by one of the 
 old mills ; its overshot wheel lay still under its layer 
 of green moss, and the shining drops tinkled music 
 ally as they fell upon the rotting wood. One side 
 of the great stone wall was torn out and fallen, as 
 if by a shell. He asked if it was done in the war. 
 
 " No, I did it myself with gunpowder," said the 
 girl simply. " We needed the stones for the avenue. 
 Laurel Run will wash it away in the floods. This is 
 Laurel Run ; there is the old stillhouse ; that marble- 
 rimmed pool beside the brook that comes down from 
 the Hanging Wood was meant for a bath, before the 
 days of indoor plumbing." 
 
 " I should Jove to bathe there still," said he. 
 
 " You may if you like, and get up early enough 
 before breakfast. I tried it once but there were too 
 many water spiders," laughed she. " This is called 
 the Wood Walk ; it runs for nearly half a mile along 
 the run and the trees have never been cut down. 
 
 279
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 They say that Lafayette was very fond of it and 
 he and Washington and Count Marbois used to come 
 here to tea. That s why that is called the Lafayette 
 Circle." 
 
 She pointed to the retaining wall, which ran all 
 along the steep hill on the upper side of the path, 
 and here was hollowed out into a semicircle in which 
 were three stone seats. 
 
 " There is a salon de Mirabeau in Auvergne," 
 said Austin, " but I am sure it served no such harm 
 less purpose." 
 
 " The British didn t think this was harmless," 
 said she. " It s only a day s march from here to the 
 Brandywine. See, here the laurel begins already." 
 They were getting now into a veritable mountain 
 gorge ; the stream was roaring at their feet and the 
 interspaces of the dark forest were rosy with the 
 laurel through which the girl glided, beautiful as 
 that girl of the Parthenon stele, stooping to tie her 
 sandal. But Austin was sternly refusing himself 
 the thought of the girl s beauty. 
 
 " You will not mind a good long walk ? " she said. 
 " I do so love it the first time I come here after the 
 long New York winter." 
 
 Austin said he would not mind a good long walk. 
 
 " That reminds me," she said ; " I have read one 
 of those books, the only one I could get at the book- 
 
 280
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 store near the station, and it isn t about a factory 
 girl at all; it s about a duchess." 
 
 " Why should factory girls wish to read about 
 factory girls? " 
 
 " Well, they would, if the stories were properly 
 written. What we want for them is a Balzac a 
 Balzac with a heart." 
 
 "Won t Howells do?" 
 
 " Howells is too ladylike," she laughed. " Women 
 are women, as men are men, and it would do them 
 good to be told so. But this duchess book has just 
 the same trouble I find in the girls themselves it 
 hasn t any ideals except diamonds and display, and 
 they won t believe that we have, either." 
 
 " Send them to Newport," said Austin sadly. 
 Something in his tone struck the young girl, and 
 for the first time she looked at him, as it were, 
 personally. 
 
 " No," she said softly, " we must go to them." 
 Then after a minute ( she was leading, leaping lightly 
 from one mossy step to another, so that her white 
 waist made a glimmering in the steep valley wood) 
 she turned lightly in her tread and " with the upper 
 foot so pressed that the lower was the firmer " looked 
 at him. " Would you like to go with me to our little 
 factory? I called it ours, but it is only a little 
 water-power with a nook of land that General Rav- 
 19 281
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 enel gave to some Hessians who were too poor to go 
 home after the Revolution. But to get there we 
 must go down to the road and climb back again." 
 She seemed to need no answer, but turned down 
 ward; here there was no path, but she sprang easily 
 from one ledge to another, scorning his hand; Aus 
 tin followed, looking at her ; now and then she would 
 turn and look up at him, smiling; at such moments 
 Austin s heart passed through all the grades of 
 happiness. 
 
 " It is the multitudes that are misled. I want 
 you to see the mill girls here. It is the vast aggre 
 gation of such in cities that seems to crush all to a 
 coarse uniformity necessary, I suppose." 
 
 " Markets, cheaper railway rates, power, are the 
 causes ; electricity promises much but fails to fulfill 
 as yet. I had hoped to see the time when a little 
 thread of wire would carry into every working 
 woman s home the brute force necessary for her 
 skilled labor, and so all could live at home, and in 
 the country." 
 
 " They would not do it," said she. " Even here, 
 where the conditions are so perfect for we are near 
 enough to cart the few materials, and the product 
 (they make watches) is so valuable that the rail rates 
 do not count I have trouble sometimes in persuad 
 ing the young girls to stay." By this time they 
 
 282
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 had stepped down out of the forest onto the level 
 valley road ; Austin noted gladly that the sun was 
 still some hours high ; before them lay a picturesque 
 long stone mill, beside it a flume and a pretty pool 
 into which a waterfall some sixty feet in height fell 
 churning. The little dell was full of ferns and flow 
 ers, and as they entered the main great room of the 
 factory the girls all looked up with joyous saluta 
 tion. " It is my first visit this year," said Miss 
 Ravenel, " but they cannot leave their work to speak 
 to us while the machinery is running." 
 
 Some forty young women with a few elder ones 
 (they were the widows, she said) were in the room ; 
 the air was pure, the windows all open, on most of 
 the window sills a bunch of flowers ; the flaxen braids 
 of the younger still showed their Saxon origin ; they 
 were all neat and wholesome looking, if not handsome, 
 and wore cool-looking shirtwaists as dainty as Mary 
 Ravenel s own. 
 
 " The few men needed do the heavy work, tend 
 the machinery, pack and unpack; the girls prefer 
 to have them work in another room it leaves them 
 freer. We will ask the superintendent to stop the 
 wheel a moment. The old overshot wheel I could 
 stop myself; but we had to give it up for a modern 
 turbine. I loved it so, though, that I got it discon 
 nected and leave it be for the looks of it." As 
 
 283
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 the wheels revolved more slowly and the shafting 
 slacked, the operatives all clustered around Mary 
 Ravenel. Austin stood apart and looked on then 
 he was introduced to a few, the elite who did only 
 handwork ; the engravers, who designed monograms 
 and inscriptions. 
 
 " I rejoice," said Austin as they walked away, 
 " that they can still compete with the trust." 
 
 " They have an old trade-mark and reputation 
 the Laurel Run watches. Many people still will be 
 at pains to get them. After all, a hand-made watch 
 is best. But they do now have to buy their cases. 
 Mr Kolmer tells me he is afraid they will try to force 
 them to join the trust, and the first thing the trust 
 would do is to abandon these works entirely the 
 trust doesn t want handwork." 
 
 " The highest economy of management being, 
 so far as possible, to eliminate the human element," 
 said Pinckney grimly. 
 
 " Perhaps some higher taste will want it back. 
 Now, Mr Pinckney, that speech came from Wall 
 Street at Laurel Run we are human and happy." 
 The girl was climbing nimbly through the ferns ; 
 Austin followed, but stumbling more, for he would 
 keep his eyes fixed on hers, so that now and then, as 
 she looked downward over her shoulder to him, he 
 could see them smile. 
 
 284
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " Surely," she went on, " all that humanity needs 
 is knowledge of the higher good, of what is really 
 good, really valuable and God has so arranged it 
 that the making of the really good is never labor that 
 degrades. The tilling of fields, the sailing of ships, 
 the fashioning of beautiful things by hand and eye 
 alone, this is good; the mining of metals, the forg 
 ing of cannon, the sitting at a crowded bench to aid 
 a machine turn out cheap imitation jewelry, shoddy, 
 vulgar-patterned carpets, noxious chemicals to be 
 utilized again in unwholesome processes, this is bad." 
 
 " Ruskin was a seer, but he was not omniscient. 
 How about sweatshops, paper mills, shoe factories? 
 Sweatshops are home labor, and there is no machin 
 ery. Paper you must have in any earthly millen 
 nium. Would you go back to the cobbler and his 
 bench?" 
 
 Miss Ravenel laughed. " We might at least get 
 another Hans Sachs. And I am not sure there is 
 not something inherently meretricious about clothes. 
 As to wood pulp, I don t care for Sunday newspapers 
 and I do prefer it in its original condition of prime 
 val forest ! " But Austin wanted to be graver. 
 
 " Knowledge of thy truth, " he quoted. " It 
 is all we need. Perhaps, after all, we are in a transi 
 tion stage. Even Carnegie libraries may bring us 
 some of it." 
 
 285
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " And that service which alone is perfect free 
 dom. Not the freedom your poor city mill girls 
 wanted." 
 
 " Is there such a thing as free will ? " 
 " If there is no free will, there is no freedom." 
 " Malebranche said that all causal volition was 
 but the direct interposition of God. And Leibnitz 
 said that a stone, falling through the air, if con 
 scious, would think it did it of its own free will." 
 
 " I never read any philosophy," said the girl, 
 " but I should say that the stone would be perfectly 
 right." 
 
 The man looked at the young woman in wonder. 
 "You have anticipated Spinoza s rejoinder." 
 
 " Gravitation is but inclination, and conscious 
 inclination is desire, will, attraction, love ; the will 
 to serve is the love of God." 
 
 " But what do you tell your class girls ? " 
 " To those that have a church, I say that. To 
 others, I respect their agnosticism, but I surely you 
 can say " (Miss Ravenel went on, modestly correct 
 ing herself), "you can say with who was it? 
 Amiel ? I do not know what others are I am em 
 erald. My duty is to be emerald. Or you can say, 
 each rod of iron has a love for north ; therefore we 
 say, there is some great source and end of the love 
 we call a magnet s ; we do not think of denying the 
 
 286
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 magnetic north. So each one of us, some more, some 
 less, far down below the day desires, have still a love 
 of good, an inclination for goodness ; somewhere, 
 therefore, is a well spring and a source and an end of 
 goodness. Thither we will; and the will is the love 
 of God ; and its conscious service is perfect freedom." 
 Had they gone down now (Austin later thought) 
 would consequences have been altered? Why was it 
 willed otherwise? They did not so will; by some vir 
 ginal instinct in each they had kept, as it were, in the 
 realms of pure reason, an instinct perhaps beginning 
 to be conscious on the man s part, as he looked at 
 her wonderful face, rosy with enthusiasm of her 
 speech, her clear eyes blazing. But he did not meet 
 them, this time, and was saved. They came now out 
 on a crag of limestone where all the world around 
 was lower land; they sat together, she looking far 
 out to the purple horizon, he, now, looking at her. 
 How long they talked he never knew ; it was when the 
 waning light grew like the light of autumn ; they 
 had spoken of Dante, how he had anticipated even 
 what they had been saying, that he was the greatest 
 of them all. Austin told how he had been in fac 
 tories in Latin countries where the mill girls hired 
 readers to read aloud the classics, Dante, Cervantes. 
 When would that be at Nauchester? And she had 
 said she thought the girls at Laurel Run would like 
 
 287
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 if not Dante Heine, Uhland, Longfellow. He 
 found she knew her Dante well ; the " Vita Nuova," 
 the precursor of all our higher, Christian love tales ; 
 something even of his life. So they were led to talk 
 ing of Beatrice, of her marriage, of Dante s mar 
 riage, of his later loves. But Austin now was 
 watching her face; as the purple shadows came up 
 ward from the valley his look became more absorbed ; 
 the white figure grew but a shimmer in the shadows 
 of the laurels ; he looked down, too, at her white, 
 ringless hands. 
 
 " It is really late, now. I must go. I am so 
 sorry. I have never met anyone with whom I 
 thought so much alike." It was she who spoke. 
 The ungrammatical little sentence was slipping out 
 so carelessly, when his eyes leaped up to hers and 
 there was one long look between them. No word was 
 said. The gardenia at her breast fluttered a little. 
 The clear amethyst of her eyes changed, as he looked, 
 to that dim, cloudy blue. Austin turned away as he 
 said: 
 
 " Dante never loved anyone else. But she re 
 fused him her salutation." 
 
 Miss Ravenel made no answer; she was leading 
 the way rapidly through the now dark wood. But 
 the light was now flooding through the man s whole 
 soul. After a minute again he spoke. 
 
 288
 
 LAUREL MOUXTAIX 
 
 "They came now out on a crag where all the world around 
 was lower land."
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " Whatever they may tell you, Miss Ravenel, 
 remember the lady from Genoa lied." There was 
 a choking end to this sentence. Had she heard it? 
 He stumbled over a bush. He would say nothing 
 more ; she did not. At last, when she spoke, it was 
 to ask him, in the open road, how soon he was to 
 leave Baltimore. 
 
 " In a day or two not to-morrow. My wife 
 does not come home till Wednesday. We are to be 
 at Beverly this summer." This speech was willed, 
 and Austin expected the conventional rejoinder, but 
 the girl made none. He became conscious of a chill 
 ing air now, that swept upward through the gorge. 
 He became very faint. He could hardly see his 
 guide before him. He resolved that in the box gar 
 den he would stop. " May I have a gardenia? " 
 
 She watched him stoop to cut one and threw hers 
 away; it was already (she pointed out in the light of 
 the doorway) brown at the edges ; then, as she looked, 
 for the first time, at his face, she cried out, " Why, 
 you look faint ! " and indeed our hero had collapsed 
 upon a chair. 
 
 " The fact is, I didn t eat I didn t eat enough 
 lunch," he said, laughing. But the girl s matronly 
 instinct now prevailed ; he was a boy, in need of nurs 
 ing ; she darted about for cakes and sherry. 
 
 " You must drink it at once." She sat beside 
 289
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 him on the old horsehair dining-room seat and looked 
 merrily over the glass of brown sherry. Austin 
 broke the bread and drank the wine. But with his 
 strength came back the veil between them. Mrs 
 Warfield made the brightness of the dinner table. 
 She asked if they had talked out their business. 
 " Not yet," said Austin. " I don t think we talked 
 any business at all," said the girl. 
 
 But (some fairy, I suppose, or kindly heathen 
 goddess, holding the scales to his eyes) Austin was 
 happy as he had never dreamed that happiness could 
 be. He did not ask why ; he did not even reflect that 
 questions might come in the morning; he was sitting 
 at her table, breaking her bread, beside her so that 
 he with his natural look had her face in his vision, 
 her presence at his side. And every word she spoke 
 was moulded in his memory as a footprint in a clay 
 that turns to rock. 
 
 After dinner, pretexting his cigar, he walked into 
 the garden and searched for the gardenia she had 
 cast away ; he put it in his coat instead of the one he 
 wore ; she would not notice it. 
 
 " You will not mind," he said to her, " if I walk 
 out in the garden a little more? " By no means 
 she was very tired, she was going to bed; breakfast 
 was at eight he might come in when he liked, for the 
 garden door was never locked. " I hope we did not 
 
 290
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 walk too far," said Austin. Miss Ravenel appar 
 ently did not hear ; she was kissing her grandmother 
 good night. 
 
 " Your candle will be upon the stairs," said the 
 old lady. 
 
 Pinckney went out. The warm scent of the box 
 still was there that he had known that day ; through 
 the trees he heard the tinkle of the old mill wheel, the 
 murmur of the stream where he had walked with her. 
 That night must never end ; so long as he prolonged 
 it, it was still the day when he had been with her. 
 The very clothes he wore were those that he had worn 
 when with her. So he smoked, and did not think he 
 did not have to think and walked about her gardens. 
 Only at the dawn did he go to his room. But it was 
 only to take his bath, don his morning clothes, and 
 then, fresh-eyed as the morn itself, hie him up the 
 path where he had been with her. Far up he climbed, 
 fixing the trail in his memory, up to the very rock 
 where he had sat with her the grass still pressed 
 where she had stood, the birch still bent against 
 which he had leaned. The morning was over the 
 world, and he saw that it was good; he loved her, 
 and he saw that it was good. 
 
 But coming down, the butler bade him breakfast 
 alone, and after it appeared Mrs Warfield, unwont- 
 
 291
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 edly early, as she said, for her. But she could 
 not let him breakfast alone, and her daughter had 
 been suddenly called to Baltimore, while he was out 
 on his morning walk. And Austin s heart, which 
 had been rich with the treasure of the coming hours, 
 closed suddenly its doors oh, was this all, was this 
 all? Was it all over? Back in the forest he asked 
 himself this ; then his pulse seemed to give one thrill 
 and was silent, like a man, thrown from his horse, 
 who lies upon the field and does not rise. 
 
 It was all forever over. 
 
 And love was. Love was, and it was such as this 
 love elemental, always, eternal, immutable. No 
 one had told him it could be like this. Not even 
 Dante. He had looked at those around him, and 
 discoursed of it, fluently, boylike. And it was Mary 
 Ravenel. O God, how he loved her ! Nay he was 
 no other thing than her. He was her. And at the 
 roots of the birch tree, he murmured her name, over 
 and over again, Mary Mary Mary Ravenel. Why 
 had she left? He knew. He knew. Was not his 
 soul now hers. And, O Mary, mother of all mercies, 
 why? It might have been. 
 
 And the great strong fellow lay, his face in the 
 fern leaves, and cried like any child. So, convul 
 sively, he sobbed, and his tears rained through the 
 mosses. Have you lost your respect for him, my 
 
 292
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 lady reader? Why, Homer s heroes cried. True, 
 in all his life had never Killian Van Kull, nor, I sup 
 pose, Guy Livingstone, nor any hero of historical 
 romance. But I must tell the truth of Austin Pinck- 
 ney as he always told it to himself nor, moreover, 
 did I give him to you as a hero just a man. But 
 so, if you will, henceforth I give him up to you, a 
 broken hero. . . . 
 
 But nevermore he lied to himself. There was no 
 weak self-deception about his love for Mary Ravenel. 
 True, he loved her, as the moth the star, the pine the 
 palm, the soul the spirit ; but he also loved her as a 
 man a woman. He could not, if he would, lie himself 
 out of that. 
 
 When his tears stopped, he spent the morning 
 hours trying to remember her face. In the after 
 noon, he took his leave; before her return, as (he 
 could feel) she had willed. 
 
 But so it had been willed that these two should 
 meet willed in that realm where, and where alone, 
 
 " That can be which is willed." 
 
 293
 
 BOOK THREE 
 
 (She. ) Durch Mitleid wissend. . . . 
 (He.) . . . Selig im Glauben.
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 XXXV 
 
 MARY RAVENEL, like the princess of an 
 enchanted palace, had been brought up in 
 a dream. The dream was her mother s ; and Ravenel 
 itself was a better setting for it than any Dore has 
 yet drawn. For Mrs Breese s one idea had been to 
 preserve her daughter from any real entanglement 
 until the ideal should arrive; her own history had 
 bred in her a horror, not only of the arranged mar 
 riage, but even the boy-and-girl unions, marriages 
 of mere propinquity, accouplements of dawning sex, 
 that are the delight of the Greek lyrist, but were in 
 her eyes fraught with the seeds of tragedy. Miles 
 Breese himself had been a handsome fellow, not with 
 out the high light of romance, when, a girl, she saw 
 him portrayed in the centre of her field of vision, in 
 love with her ; no young girl but is moved at the 
 mention of such a state, more perhaps when told by 
 others, whispered by his sisters, hinted at compas 
 sionately by mothers or girl friends, than when the 
 pining swain opens his own lips. I doubt if Miles 
 Breese even at five-and-twenty had made a very per 
 suasive suitor; but he was handsome, rich, content 
 enough to take over this beautiful girl as he would 
 add a beautiful thoroughbred to his stable. Many 
 20 297
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 a day was he busied wholly with his racing stable 
 while others took the pains to speak for him to Mary 
 Warfield ; he was depicted a very Orlando wandering 
 in the forest, when the hard facts found him tippling 
 at road houses with the men or women that fast 
 horses breed. For it is a truth indeed that, if men 
 can train horses, horses, more subtly, train the men 
 who live with them. Mary s mother, ambitious of 
 the match, discreetly stood aside; only, at the hesi 
 tating moment, letting Mary know (not in so many 
 words) what her wishes were. For theirs was a 
 great tradition, a great name, but they were poor. 
 And why, thought Mrs Warfield, should not even a 
 Ravenel marry Miles Breese? He was the best man in 
 Baltimore. Mary liked his roses, she liked his own 
 looks, then ; her girl s heart would beat a little faster 
 when she heard the thunder of his horses hoofs 
 upon the Ravenel avenue, and this (they told her) 
 was love, and so she accepted it and him. Then, as 
 has been elsewhere told, came that summer at Newport 
 and her meeting with Charles Austin Pinckney. A look 
 too long a book or two given, a word exchanged 
 and their lives were ended. She had never repined. 
 
 But old Mrs Warfield grew cynical and French, 
 in her later years, when her daughter s life seemed 
 to her to be wrecked. Mary, a simpler and perhaps 
 a stronger nature, turned to heaven, and kept her 
 
 298
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 dreams. Under these auspices our heroine (Dorothy, 
 for the moment, is at Tuxedo) was born. Then came 
 the divorce necessary, said the family, for her own 
 self-respect ; necessary, said her mother and Mr 
 Gresham, whom they much trusted, for her own sub 
 sistence and the child s future. It was just after 
 their only son s death, in 1877, that she consented. 
 Since the war, Ravenel in Maryland was but an ex 
 pense. Ravenel in South Carolina was gone. Mrs 
 Breese brought the child home alone from Baden- 
 Baden. Old Mrs Warfield could not afford govern 
 esses; there were, of course, no schools. And so the 
 child Mary had come to be educated in the old library. 
 There were no American novels later than Brockden 
 Brown ; there was Bulwer, but not Dickens ; little of 
 any other fiction save Scott ; no Fielding, Smollett, 
 or Aphra Behn ; only Richardson and some German 
 romances ; for old Commodore Warfield had that 
 shrinking from gross speech peculiar to Southern 
 gentlemen before the war. A story which many a 
 man to-day will tell to women at a dinner party 
 would have made him blush like a girl or, perhaps, 
 to hide his embarrassment, cause a duel with the 
 raconteur. For with their pistols they were never 
 embarrassed, these old gentlemen ; they were very 
 simple-hearted, but not to be played with; where, 
 outside of a certain district in Castile, had the world 
 
 299
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 yet seen their like? We shall miss them, when we 
 have leisure. 
 
 Then came the time when Miles, too, was ruined ; 
 his social adventuress left him for a chocolate manu 
 facturer ; she had taken most of his fortune and, for 
 the time, his good spirits ; he felt very ill and lonely 
 and wrote to his abandoned wife a letter. She would 
 not forgive him. But men like Breese are not to be 
 killed by their emotions ; convalescent, he wrote her 
 another letter announcing his immediate departure 
 for the devil. Once well started, he proceeded on 
 that road more rapidly than should have been ex 
 pected in a gentleman of his years. He sought, and 
 desired, disgrace. It is the very flagrancy of the 
 sin that stimulates a flagging Tarquin ; the shame, 
 the lust of hell, that goads a Cellini or a Sade. 
 And this may go with kindliness ; we know that 
 Bluebeard the historical Gilles de Retz was 
 devoted to Joan of Arc. " His private life " 
 strange no Balzac, no Tolstoi, yet has chosen this 
 title Miles Breese s private life may here be no 
 more than indicated. Sometimes he got money 
 then he would seek to flaunt himself into his wife s 
 notice: difficult enough, in her seclusion at Ravenel, 
 but he found friends to bear the news at other 
 times he lived a Villon lyric he had not the spiritu 
 ality, even, of a Verlaine. It was at this period that 
 
 300
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Mary Warfield sinned. For (she was a South Caro 
 linian, and devote to boot : to her, her " divorce " 
 was no divorce, but a legal arrangement to prevent 
 persecution it is only a few years since a lady, law 
 fully divorced in New York for no fault of her own, 
 was refused the entree of the St. Cecilia ball at 
 Charleston) she wrote a letter to Charles Pinckney 
 at Carlsruhe. He replied; it led to an interchange 
 of a few books, nothing more ; then she begged for 
 silence, and their silence lasted to the grave. Neither 
 of them even knew which died first. 
 
 It was in the remorse of this sin, kept secret even 
 from her own mother (who, Huguenot and French that 
 she was, had probably made little of it) that Mary 
 Warfield conveyed vaguely to her daughter the im 
 pression of Miles as of one suffering, erring, sinned 
 against. Dying, she had half -charged her daughter 
 not to desert her father. He has been very wicked, 
 she would say, but we were both to blame. Secretly, 
 perhaps, she felt she had done wrong to marry him. 
 Abstract wickedness is not, to a young girl, a definite 
 phrase. And the old grandmother, who might have 
 scoffed the notion out of her head, was on this one 
 point humble ; too heartbroken at the misery caused 
 by her own worldly plans to venture ever again to 
 direct a young girl s heart. 
 
 Insensibly, however, it had reacted. Her father, 
 301
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 to the young girl, stood for the modern man ; and if 
 she did not visualize all the flaws in his composition, 
 she at least knew that it was but a poor, weak clay. 
 Thus it came about that the men she read of in Mai- 
 lory, in Spenser heroes of a poet s dream she 
 recognized as of the stuff that dreams are made of ; 
 the men of real life she recognized in old plays, or, 
 at their best, in the people of St. Ronan s Well, in 
 Pelham or Pendennis. 
 
 She had met few young men in New York, none 
 as yet in Baltimore, to disabuse her of this impres 
 sion ; for the former city was already turning to 
 that continental civilization of which it boasts. John 
 Haviland represented a previous generation ; more 
 over, her father s affiliations, such as they were, had 
 thrown her with the most fashionable set, with those 
 who would in a lower walk of life have been termed 
 " sporting " people ; with the Creoles, French, Ger 
 man, Cubans, all imported in the nineteenth century 
 to make their fortunes, not, as in the earlier two, to 
 secure (so we are told) civil or religious liberty. 
 His lot lay with the Rastacqs, Einsteins, Duvals 
 not with the Dutch Breviers, the colonial Philipses, 
 or the later, New England-born, American families. 
 A fortunate introduction of old Mr Gresham s had 
 indeed brought her to the Havilands, with whom she 
 had immediate sympathy ; leaving them out, " Lucie " 
 
 302
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Gower (she would probably have said) was the best 
 man type she had encountered in New York in what 
 is called " Society." And Lucie, honest fellow, was 
 no Admirable Crichton nor yet a Sidney, though a 
 very parfait gentilman in his way. 
 
 Without any pose, even to herself, therefore, she 
 had seen (resolved, made up her mind, are phrases 
 too expressive of a conscious determination) that 
 she should never marry. Thus it came about that 
 she had rather lost her interest in the upper ten ; 
 without attempting any breadwinning vocation (for, 
 like a Southerner, she assumed that a lady nec 
 essarily had an income) she found her interest in 
 the study, in the service, of the lower million. In 
 the vulgar phrase, she never " thought about young 
 men." 
 
 She had been interested in young Pinckney very 
 much indeed. She liked him; but more than that, 
 she felt a latent strength, an ability, even a heart, 
 which might accomplish ends she saw, but which her 
 own sex prevented her from attaining. She was 
 casually aware that he was married, but gave the 
 matter not a second thought; it was not a thing 
 that concerned her. If, indeed, his wife could be. 
 to them all that Gracie was could share in their 
 work, hers and her friends , as Gracie did but some 
 thing, her own knowledge of the Duval-Rastacq set, 
 
 303
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 or a paragraph she chanced upon in the Times, made 
 her know that this might not be. 
 
 Her own pathway in life seemed quite clear to 
 her. If there was a doubt despite her half-Catholic 
 ancestry it was on religious matters. And this 
 doubt, merely intellectual, never disturbed her peace. 
 " I must be emerald." Whatever truth God chose to 
 withhold from our full knowledge in this world, the 
 duty of man or woman was plain enough ; and with 
 it went the duty to believe, to hope, the duty to be 
 happy. Yet never had her assurance perhaps, be 
 fore then, vague, or at least undefined been put in 
 words to her so clearly as by Mr Pinckney on that 
 yesterday. It was in the frank leap of her heart with 
 sympathy on this that her eyes, too little self-con 
 scious, had fallen to his and seen suddenly the open 
 chamber of his soul. She had seen a moment of hush, 
 of awe at the awakening, a look in his wide-open eyes 
 like a deer s when first he hears the horn ; then, with 
 a fear now in her own, the awe give place to the full 
 radiance that streamed in every chamber of his heart. 
 As yet innocent, the man s eyes stayed still and open, 
 deeply simple, looking no afterthought, struck mo 
 tionless, with yet no thought of after-things. She 
 had seen the annunciation of his love. And then, 
 first, she had turned her own eyes away. She had 
 seen too much; and for all the mists that she might 
 
 304
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 weave between them, the sight might never go. So 
 it came about that while in his heart there was still 
 nothing but the awe of happiness, there came in 
 hers a horror at what she had done. Yes, done; she 
 tried, in the night, to think it otherwise, to persuade 
 herself that she had erred in believing that his ecstasy 
 had in any way been personal, individual, growing 
 from the nearness of her but she could not. Both 
 these two, of many other things they had in common, 
 could not deceive themselves. Like Dante at Beat 
 rice s first salutation, she had seen " his soul pass all 
 the bournes of ecstasy." In one lightning flash she 
 had read not only that he loved her, but that he knew 
 he loved her read it, all in his eyes unaware. And 
 then she had turned her own away. And while she 
 slept, of a tear or two in her long lashes her spirit 
 set itself to weave its mists. 
 
 XXXVI 
 
 WAKEFUL at dawn, the girl lay in her bed, 
 glad of the darkness of her room, so red 
 she felt her face when she thought of their position ; 
 then the woman in her would have its turn and she 
 would feel that, after all, the visit might be lived 
 through. She had perfect confidence in his breeding, 
 
 305
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 in his self-restraint. She knew well that not again 
 while he was under her roof would he show to her 
 that he had come to be in love with her. But there! 
 and now again the woman smiled as the girl blushed 
 as if every modulation of his voice, every tremor 
 of his mouth, the very aversion of his eyes, did not 
 tell her, more importunately than any words, and he 
 all unaware. Of one thing, indeed, she was certain: 
 his inclination (so she euphemized it to herself) must 
 be hastily destroyed, eradicated could he, would he, 
 do it, of himself? An instinct told her the nega 
 tive. And so, in the morning, the girl arose a 
 woman. And, with a woman s swift decision, she 
 went away. 
 
 But if it was the girl again who galloped to the 
 station, it was the woman who reflected, on the train 
 to Baltimore, that perhaps all which must now never 
 be said, or even, from that day on, in her own 
 thoughts, admitted, was emphasized, and emphasized 
 even to him, by this very action on her part. What 
 would he think of her? It had been understood that 
 he was to leave that morning, but nothing had been 
 said about her going away ; moreover, he was going 
 by a later train, and her grandmother never came 
 down till noonday. She doubtless could be trusted 
 to make some explanation, but Miss Ravenel did not 
 care to have her have to. And the granddaughter 
 
 306
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 never under any circumstances whatever told even 
 the whitest of lies. If things had so come about 
 even that Pinckney had asked her, on this very morn 
 ing, if she had seen his love for her, she would have 
 answered that she had. So that if, on the one hand, 
 it had been absolutely necessary to leave him (almost 
 of this, now, the woman in her doubted), it was vitally 
 so that he should not put the true construction on it. 
 He must never know never know on earth that she 
 had seen so deeply into his heart. 
 
 But there was no train back to Ravenel that morn 
 ing, and at this very moment, perhaps, there was 
 coming to Austin alone in the shadowed valley that 
 " mist of tears and a blinding rain " whereafter, says 
 Macdonald, life is never the same again. Mary 
 Ravenel half -knew it. Some cry of the wounded 
 rang even to her heart s core. But she (so doubt 
 less that Maiden of Florence of whom to Dante his 
 vision spoke: 
 
 " She is born who, though not yet her hair is up, my 
 city shall endear" 
 
 how strangely modern the grim poet s words echo 
 down that stair of countless yesterdays!) she knew 
 wholly that the only cure lay in the knife. For women 
 are trained, almost from infancy, to read men ; a girl, 
 for her own protection, must understand, not what 
 
 307
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 a man says, but what he means. It is those, alas ! 
 who do not, that play the fool. While, as to those 
 who do so read and use their knowledge wrongly 
 what shall we call their "play"? Of neither class 
 had God created Mary Ravenel. 
 
 But, if the girl had used the knife, the woman 
 bade her hide it from him. He must not know her 
 rede. And now, how could she keep it from him? 
 She had left, of course, a note for her grandmother 
 and a message for him " she was sorry that she had 
 had to go away so early " that alone, however, would 
 not suffice. And Baltimore was not far enough away. 
 Moreover, there was little excuse for her going by the 
 early morning train he would certainly have taken 
 it if he had known nor for her staying there, if by 
 remote possibility he prolonged his visit to Mrs War- 
 field. She must not appear to run away ; and her 
 grandmother, out of mere good breeding, was likely 
 to insist the more on his staying on, so brusque would 
 appear her departure. So Miss Ravenel knit her 
 virginal white brows. 
 
 Fortunately, the matter was settled by a telegram 
 from her father. It was the family custom to use 
 a cousin s house Basil Conynghame s as an ad 
 dress for telegrams, to be forwarded thence, as occa 
 sion demanded, by messenger or telephone, there 
 being no operator at Ravenel. Here also Miss 
 
 308
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Ravenel was in the habit of keeping a simple ward 
 robe, a dinner dress, enough for her necessities should 
 work or weather keep her in the city. (Conynghame 
 himself lived with his Order ; but he maintained the 
 house, even after his mother s death left him alone.) 
 The telegram was to the effect that urgent business 
 necessities demanded her immediate presence in New 
 York, where her father would meet her at Mr Gresh- 
 am s office. There was just time to have the message 
 forwarded to her grandmother and for her to catch 
 the ten o clock train. Thus it happened that at the 
 very hour when Austin, returned again to the laurel 
 valley, was burying her memory in his heart, Miss 
 Ravenel herself was on her way to his own office in 
 New York. 
 
 As she was getting her Pullman seat, she noticed, 
 in the file ahead of her, the unusual beauty of a young 
 lady who seemed, like herself, to be traveling alone; 
 and, coming into the car, she found herself in a chair 
 opposite the stranger. She was quietly dressed, with 
 an expression at once modest and intelligent ; she did 
 not seem to notice the men who came into the car, 
 and Miss Ravenel was particularly struck by her 
 having all the morning newspapers. She herself had 
 one (being addicted in her " strong-minded " way, 
 as other women might have phrased it, to the read 
 ing of them, for her interest in life), but this un- 
 
 309
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 feminine habit (she supposed), like the latchkey and 
 the bicycle, was due to her general revolt against 
 what was expected of her who ought (she supposed) 
 by right to have been riding in a governess s cart 
 with other people s children instead of living her 
 own life in a New York flat and traveling thither un 
 attended. . At all events, it was unusual to see an 
 other young woman reading newspapers ; and Miss 
 Ravenel gave her vis-a-vis a second glance, noticing 
 this time that she was blond and had a very wonder 
 ful complexion of the real " peaches-and-cream " 
 variety, where to perfect fairness is joined so delicate 
 a skin that the carmine flood swells under it like the 
 juices of a nectarine. She seemed, by her figure, to 
 be a woman some years older than herself, although 
 her face might have been of any age of youth, and 
 Miss Ravenel, not wishing to stare, looked herself to 
 see what might be of such interest in the papers. 
 She found nothing, but it was perhaps because she 
 omitted, as was her wont, both the " Society " and 
 the financial pages ; still she read on, having, per 
 haps, a reason for desiring to escape her own 
 thoughts. 
 
 She was wrong, however, it appeared, in thinking 
 the other alone, for hardly were they out of the tun 
 nel before a fashionably attired young man appeared 
 and took the chair beside her. Miss Ravenel half- 
 
 310
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 fancied she saw a startled look in her eyes as, with 
 an assumption of the greatest familiarity, he ad 
 dressed her. 
 
 " Well, Miss Aylwin, you won out this time. 
 Tamms is all done up. I ve only got a week to get 
 ashore myself. I wish I had a smart girl like you 
 in my office." It was impossible not to overhear the 
 strident, overbearing voice, even had not the next 
 words concerned herself. " Where did you leave 
 Pinckney? " 
 
 " In Baltimore Miss Ravenel looked away. 
 " He had other business in Baltimore." 
 
 " Hm, hm I guess his business was in New York 
 look at that" and the Jew (as Mary Ravenel now 
 saw he was) pressed his forefinger upon the opened 
 newspaper that lay upon the woman s knee. The fair 
 girl shrank away from him and looked, in evident 
 terror, at Miss Ravenel, so that our heroine, who was 
 about to change her seat, stayed. Shall it be con 
 fessed, however, that her curiosity led her to look at 
 the same page of her own newspaper? The first four 
 columns (though it was a Baltimore paper) were 
 given up to a New York dispatch describing the 
 Duval ball, for this important annual function had 
 taken place on the night before. 
 
 " I don t mean that," the man went on, as if read 
 ing her thoughts. The remaining columns bore the 
 
 311
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 headline : Panic on Wall Street reported embarrass 
 ment of Phineas W. Tamms. " Tamms went on last 
 night, and so, I guess, did your young man." There 
 was a shuddering vulgarity about the voice, and 
 again Miss Ravenel set herself not to hear; but just 
 then it sank to a whisper. Not for one moment did 
 she question their relation she had read too deeply 
 in the man s heart for that but it was an odd coin 
 cidence ; she could not be his wife, for Mrs Pinckney, 
 she remembered, was rather dark, and, moreover, a 
 Philadelphian, while this girl, Miss Ravenel was per 
 suaded, was country bred and from New England. 
 And what was this sleek Hebrew doing in the trio? 
 Whoever he was, it was clear that he was highly dis 
 tasteful to the fair young woman. His voice had now 
 sunk to an insinuating whisper, and his hand rested on 
 the back of her chair. " Oh, I spotted you coming 
 down ! " Miss Ravenel overheard ; then a long, per 
 suasive monotone throughout which the woman be 
 trayed increased distress. Could it be that she does 
 not know how to get rid of him? thought Miss Rave 
 nel. She tried to look away. " Twice the salary," 
 said the unctuous voice. Suddenly she saw the woman 
 start and give a despairing glance at her while a flood 
 of carmine swept across her face. " Well, at any 
 rate, you ll come and dine with me," the man was 
 saying. 
 
 312
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 It is said that 
 
 ". . . every gentle maid 
 Should have a guardian in each gentleman " 
 
 but the poet s words were written for Americans ; 
 and Miss Ravenel understood, with a woman s free 
 masonry, the signals of the other woman s face. She 
 crossed the aisle and sat in the chair by her side just 
 as the man was about to sink into it. " When shall 
 we have our lunch, Miss Aylwin ? " she said meaningly. 
 It was fortunate that she had overheard the name. 
 And Miss Ravenel could look or rather overlook 
 Mr Markoff in a manner that caused that gentleman, 
 who could bully a woman whom he knew to be a type 
 writer but would cringe before any who seemed to 
 him a lady, to take himself off in evident embarrass 
 ment, stammering that he had thought Miss Aylwin 
 was traveling alone. It afterwards occurred to him 
 that this was not the best thing to have said, but 
 Markoff was not yet quick at social matters. " That 
 girl is a swell, I am sure," he said to himself ; and he 
 wondered how much she had overheard, or, rather, 
 how much she would tell in New York. He cared 
 little what Miss Aylwin might tell to Pinckney or 
 even to Gresham ; that was all in the way of business ; 
 it was, of course, open to him to acquire information 
 about the enemy s camp even by the method of 
 21 313
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 making love to his typewriter ; moreover (Markoff 
 felt), he had a hold upon Pinckney; he and Miss 
 Aylwin were stopping at the same hotel; Pirickney s 
 story would only be good until that were told, he 
 reflected. But Markoff was crazily anxious to get 
 into society ; and he feared the ridicule of his inef 
 fectual attempt might hurt him with Mrs Levison- 
 Gower. It never occurred to him that maidens did 
 not talk about such things. 
 
 Meantime Mary Ravenel was talking almost inti 
 mately with the grateful Miss Aylwin. She told her 
 that Mr Pinckney had been visiting at her grand 
 mother s house, and that the mention of his name had 
 emboldened her to intervene. In return, Miss Aylwin 
 explained how she had come to be employed in their 
 office ; she talked of her life in New York, of Newport, 
 and Miss Ravenel began to be much interested in her 
 mind. She was from Hadley, Mass., she explained, 
 and " had never been out in society." But she was 
 professionally reticent about their business, or what 
 had brought her and Mr Pinckney on to Baltimore 
 together. Oddly mature in matters of men s affairs, 
 of high finance, even of law, she was curiously imma 
 ture in everything else. In vain Miss Ravenel tried 
 to find out how she spent her leisure ; it was only evi 
 dent that she had taken up no work, no charity, noth 
 ing of the things that interested Miss Ravenel herself. 
 
 314
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 But when the latter young lady read from her news 
 paper the full account of the Allegheny Central 
 meeting of yesterday, and the dialogue between him 
 and Markoff, she became more communicative. 
 
 " That was the very man," she said. " He is 
 horrid. And it doesn t do for me to know any man 
 living, as I do, alone in New York." 
 
 " You must come to my classes," said Miss 
 Ravenel, seeing at once a proselyte and a pupil. 
 " And why not see men ? There are plenty of par 
 ties, dinners 
 
 " Oh, if I were in society ! " said the other, with 
 a sigh. 
 
 She was little interested in Mary Ravenel s de 
 scription of her work. The poorer classes, it seemed, 
 did not appeal to her. In return, she explained to 
 Miss Ravenel the effect of their action on the stock 
 market ; why the Allegheny Pacific stocks were in a 
 panic and the Centrals strong; then, after their 
 lunch, Mary noticed that she read from end to end 
 the four columns of the Duval ball. " Why, here s 
 a picture of Mrs Pinckney," she said. Miss Ravenel 
 looked at it. 
 
 " If it s as bad as the one of Mrs Gower, it s not 
 much like her." 
 
 " Oh, do you know her? Mrs Gower, I mean? I 
 have tried to get some one to point her out to me 
 
 315
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 at the opera, but they re never sure. I think I saw 
 her once driving in the park ; at least it was Mr 
 Gower; they had bay horses and plum-colored liver 
 ies, and he wore a camellia in his buttonhole, and 
 she had such splendid roses ! Do you suppose that 
 really was the dress she wore at the ball? " 
 
 " I don t know. I didn t go," laughed Miss 
 Ravenel. 
 
 " Could you have gone? " asked the other long 
 ingly. " Forgive me, I did not mean to be imper 
 tinent " 
 
 And Miss Ravenel began to talk to the older 
 woman like a teacher to a child. Coming to New 
 York, they got an afternoon paper. Markoff only 
 once, hurriedly, passed through the car. He, too, 
 was reading the paper a pinkish one and it bore, 
 in letters two inches high, the caption " Corner in 
 Allegheny Central." 
 
 "What is a corner, I wonder?" 
 
 " Oh, I can tell you all about it ! " said Miss Ayl- 
 win. The roles were suddenly reversed. And she 
 told how stocks were bought and sold, " long " or 
 " short," and how sometimes the seller had not the 
 stock he sold and had to buy at any price, and how 
 that made a " corner." 
 
 " My little fortune is in Allegheny Central," said 
 Miss Ravenel. 
 
 316
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Miss Aylwin looked at the papers in her lap. She 
 was sorting them, and the documents were " backed," 
 in large letters, " Gresham, Radnor, Daubeny, and 
 Haviland." This, indeed, had at first emboldened 
 Miss Ravenel to speak to her. 
 
 " Keep it till the end of the week," she said. " It 
 is no time to sell to-day." And Miss Ravenel looked 
 again with curiosity at the fair face beside her, so 
 wise in matters of money, so innocent in ways of the 
 world. Here was a problem differing in degree, 
 indeed, if not in kind from that of her working 
 girls. 
 
 Neither of them could afford a carriage ; so, get 
 ting out at the Desbrosses Street ferry, they walked 
 to Wall Street together. 
 
 Mr Markoff drove rapidly away in his cab. 
 
 XXXVII 
 
 THAT Friday, it was said, Allegheny Central 
 touched the price of $1,000 per share. Even 
 Mrs Gower, in her Berkshire fastness, turned pale 
 as she read, the next morning, how much she might 
 have realized. " Baby " Malgam to whose acquaint 
 ance Markoff had now attained sulked for an hour 
 when he next called upon her. Jacob Einstein, whose 
 
 317
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 ideal it is to be " worth " $100,000,000, cannot yet 
 speak of it without tears. But very few of us realize 
 our ideals in this world. Jacob Einstein s $100,000,- 
 000 will doubtless be appreciated to their full value 
 in the next. Meantime August Markoff was getting 
 very busy on earth. Tamms was invisible. And Jim 
 Starbuck, agitator, returned to his old field in the 
 coal lands of the great railway and asked whether, 
 in view of the fact that the stock of the corporation 
 which employed them had been made worth $1,000 
 per share necessarily by their own labor they 
 deemed their wages of eighty cents for eleven hours 
 quite sufficient. 
 
 Very little conscious of these things, but much 
 concerned about her father, Mary Ravenel had sent 
 her name to Mr Gresham s private room. With that 
 deference which he always showed her she was ushered 
 in by the old gentleman himself, and found her father 
 awaiting her. That gentleman rushed up effusively, 
 but was arrested by a wave of Mr Gresham s hand. 
 " This is a business interview, please, Mr Breese, and 
 we will conduct it as such. You and I are Miss 
 Ravenel s trustees, and she, with others, is our cestui 
 que truste." 
 
 "Others?" said Mr Breese. 
 
 " Others her issue, or, failing such, yourself. 
 Now you, I understand, after selling her proxy and 
 
 318
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 selling your own, have also, quite without authority, 
 sold her 200 shares of Allegheny Central stock." 
 
 " Short," said Mr Miles. " But who could have 
 expected this? My friend Tamms 
 
 " He will shortly be better occupied behind the 
 bars of Dannemora. He has nothing to do with 
 the case." 
 
 " But the stock is certain to fall again. I 
 only want to borrow it for a few days. If I cannot, 
 I am ruined." Mr Gresham remained perfectly 
 calm. 
 
 " There are others to be considered. And not 
 Miss Ravenel alone. I have little doubt she would be 
 willing enough to let you have it 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " cried the girl, clasping her hands. 
 
 " But it is impossible, quite impossible." 
 
 " Then," said Mr Breese, " but one thing remains 
 for me to do I must make an assignment." 
 
 " Father, you know that all I can give you is 
 yours." There was a knock upon the outer door ; 
 Miss Aylwin entered. " Mr Markoff," said she. 
 
 " Let him wait or stay one moment," said Mr 
 Gresham. " Mr Breese, are you willing to relinquish 
 this trust entirely wind it up, liquidate it, in fact? 
 Your remainder interest is of little value the likeli 
 hood of your outliving Miss Ravenel is not great 
 she may marry. The book value of the stock is 
 
 319
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 $20,000. If I could get you this sum, would you 
 go?" 
 
 " Go? " said the old man, with a start. 
 
 " Go get out, I mean, to speak plainly ! Leave 
 me to deal with your daughter alone. With her con 
 sent, I might risk it. Take the $20,000 and leave us 
 alone. A trip abroad would do you good." 
 
 " But I am pledged to deliver the stock," said 
 Mr Breese. 
 
 This argument did not seem to impress Mr 
 Gresham. " Here, read over this paper, and, if you 
 like it, you and Miss Ravenel must sign it. I ll let 
 you know if I can manage it, at your address up 
 town. Miss Aylwin, show Mr Markoff in." And, as 
 the others went out, Markoff entered with Radnor, 
 the latter in a high state of excitement. Miss 
 Aylwin had disappeared with Mary Ravenel and 
 Mr Breese. Markoff just escaped meeting them 
 again. 
 
 " I have been telling Mr Radnor that it is hands 
 down with us," smiled Markoff insinuatingly. And 
 his air of frankness sat upon him like dew upon the 
 rose. 
 
 " And I ve been telling Mr Markoff that it s 
 hands up with Tamms," said Radnor. 
 
 " Mr Pinckney promised to give us a week," said 
 Markoff suavely.
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " In which Mr Tamms was to make his assign 
 ment," said Radnor. 
 
 Markoff shrugged his shoulders. " On two con 
 ditions," he said, and hesitated. " And one is " 
 
 " And one is ? " growled Gresham. 
 
 " That I m to be appointed assignee." 
 
 " There is no one in whose hands I d rather see 
 Phineas W. Tamms," assented Mr Gresham gravely. 
 Markoff smiled still more deprecatingly. 
 
 " And then " 
 
 "And then?" 
 
 " You re not to press this Miners Bank loan 
 before the assignment 
 
 " Nor, I suppose, sell the collateral 
 
 " Nor the Chesapeake Trust Company s " 
 
 " It s all the same thing " 
 
 "It wasn t," laughed Markoff, "before Mr 
 Pinckney got that writing from my client! You 
 know that was devilish clever of him? Here s the 
 assignment already signed by my client, and dated 
 next Tuesday. That s just a week. Of course, you 
 throw in the first day." And Markoff tossed the 
 paper over. 
 
 " About your client," said Mr Gresham. " All 
 this without prejudice to any prosecution against 
 him for fraud? " 
 
 " Oh, perfectly, though I don t think you ll find
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 anything! He did everything under my advice. 
 And I " 
 
 " You are protected by your privilege from 
 testifying? " 
 
 " It isn t exactly what I was about to say 
 
 " It will do," said Radnor explosively. " Any 
 thing else? " 
 
 " I think we understand each other 
 
 " I think we do," said the Welshman, with an 
 oath. " Anything else, Gresham ? " 
 
 " Radnor, you are altogether too impulsive. 
 Now, I find this conversation most interesting. 
 We ll say next Tuesday, then, for that little paper? 
 Meantime the Allegheny Pacific ah securities are 
 to be called in without contest? " 
 
 " I didn t say meantime, " said Markoff. " At 
 least, I don t think I did the agreement signed in 
 Baltimore will show 
 
 " Mr Markoff s word is as good as his bonds," 
 said Radnor in honeyed tones : no Celt could resist 
 the final s. Markoff winced. 
 
 " Of course the Pacifies are to be canceled, but 
 it must not be known for a week. The fact is " 
 and again the Hebrew beamed frankness" I haven t 
 worked off all my own stock yet. The Centrals, then, 
 you insist on selling out Monday under the rule, 
 if Tamms assigns that day ? "
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " Well, we thought of taking them over our 
 selves," said Mr Gresham. 
 
 Markoff held on to his face very hard. " In that 
 event, I must again beg for secrecy. The fact is," 
 he added, with the air of one who has now confessed 
 the last, " I am a little short of Allegheny Central 
 myself." 
 
 " Dear me," said Gresham. " Would 200 shares 
 but I suppose a trifle like 200 shares would be of 
 no use to you." 
 
 " Of the greatest possible use " 
 
 " Twenty thousand dollars ? " 
 
 "For a week?" 
 
 " For two. Miss Aylwin " he rang the bell 
 " get Mr Markoff a blank cheque." 
 
 " On what bank, sir? " said the girl, looking down. 
 
 " Oh, any bank will do ! Mr Markoff will see to 
 that." 
 
 " Clever girl, that," said the unabashed Markoff. 
 Radnor bounded from his chair. 
 
 " You have met her before, I think? " 
 
 Markoff, who was signing the cheque, nodded. 
 
 " On the train to Baltimore, I think 
 
 " On the train to Baltimore, I believe." 
 
 " And on the train coming back," said Radnor, 
 who had had a word with Miss Aylwin in the outer 
 office. 
 
 323
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " No, not coming back ; only going. There, 
 Mr Gresham, is the cheque." 
 
 Radnor s amazed eyes fixed him with a look he 
 bore unblushingly. 
 
 Mr Gresham had to take up the conversation. 
 " There," he said, " that will do. Is that all? " 
 
 " I think we understand one another," said 
 Markoff, as he took his hat. 
 
 " Oh, perfectly ! " was all that Mr Radnor could 
 find strength to say. 
 
 " I feel like an accomplice," said Gresham to his 
 partner ; " but, after all, Pinckney had to give the 
 promise, and the only person injured will be Tamms." 
 
 Radnor expressed his regret that Mr Tamms was 
 again going to escape the State prison. As for 
 Markoff, he thought him too clever for any sublunary 
 punishment. 
 
 " Well," said his senior, " everything may turn 
 out for the best. I am inclined to think Tamms will 
 wish he had been there before his astute counsel gets 
 through with him." 
 
 It was too late to " certify " Mr Markoff s cheque 
 that night, but Miss Aylwin was dispatched with an 
 other, signed by Mr Gresham himself, that gentle 
 man only remarking, as he deposited Markoff s in 
 the safe, that he considered it a " most excellent 
 security."
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 She hurried uptown on the Elevated. The ad 
 dress given her was one of those pretentious, pro 
 miscuous apartment houses that tower to the west 
 of the park. But it happened that Mr Breese, re 
 turning in a carriage with his daughter, had insisted 
 on leaving her, with many touching protestations of 
 gratitude, at her apartment on Lexington Avenue. 
 Miss Ravenel had again urged, in view of this sudden 
 accession of funds, that they should take a larger 
 apartment, and together, but the old gentleman had 
 waved the suggestion aside. " Any little corner is 
 enough for me a hall bedroom, anything you 
 know I still have my club, and you need all your little 
 income, my dear. I may take Gresham s suggestion, 
 and go away for a time. You must remember this 
 sum comes out of our principal ; moreover, it belongs, 
 morally, to my creditors." And poor Mary felt re 
 proved. How long would it be, after all, before 
 women would gain that clear grasp of financial affairs 
 so natural, apparently, to men? And did that mean 
 that her income was now to be reduced, she wondered? 
 She needed it, even all of it, for certain expenses of 
 her classes ; she easily got money for them by letting 
 her wants be known, but she would take no pay for 
 her own services, and she always liked to give a little 
 herself. But she did not like to ask the question lest 
 her father should think she grudged him his capital. 
 
 325
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " What is left is all yours, my dear," her father 
 went on. " I have had to take mine, but now I must 
 look out for myself. I must no longer take any of 
 the income from you." Stating a duty was, to Mr 
 Breese s mind, as good as performing it and far 
 pleasanter. 
 
 So he drove off to the Piccadilly Club, that being 
 the nearest, where he partook of a plurality of cock 
 tails. Miles Breese had always felt that he could do 
 anything with a woman ; but now he had a different 
 job before him the doing without one. It was well 
 to be on with the new love before he was off with the 
 old. So, before going to West Sixty-fourth Street, 
 he made a call at the Fifth Avenue Hotel. 
 
 This was the reason that Miss Aylwin, ringing 
 the bell of the flat, was shot up an elevator and ush 
 ered into a satin-furnished parlor by a darky boy of 
 many buttons who, taking her name as merely " the 
 clerk from Gresham & Radnor s," announced it 
 through a crack of the door to some contiguous 
 room while Miss Aylwin sat down and waited. She 
 had never before been in the apartment of one of 
 the Four Hundred, and would have preferred to see 
 the home of some great lady ; however, old Mr 
 Breese was unquestionably on the list, and there were 
 unmistakable signs of some feminine presence. There 
 was a strong scent in the room, not of flowers ; on a 
 
 326
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 tray a Japanese pastil was still burning; and in a 
 network of blue ribbon some hundreds of photo 
 graphs, mostly actresses or English noblewomen, 
 were carelessly displayed; two small dogs of the 
 breed known as " papillons " sat with the china dogs 
 upon the hearth ; the former moved and sniffed, with 
 a bark or two, about her ankles. A startling chromo 
 or two was on the walls, among which, curiously out 
 of place, was the framed and faded photograph of 
 a house that looked, with its gables and its well sweep, 
 its grapevine-covered stone wall and apple orchard, 
 like some old New England farm. 
 
 The dogs seemed to be heard, for a woman s 
 voice came through the thin partition : " Please wait, 
 I will be out directly." The voice was certainly not 
 Miss Ravenel s. Miss Aylwin waited, in some uncer 
 tainty, a minute more; then she rang the bell, and 
 the buttons appeared. " I have come to see Mr 
 Breese," she said. " I can come back, if he is not in." 
 
 But this time the voice answered promptly, 
 through the door, " Do wait, I ll come out now." 
 And as Miss Aylwin, despite the entreaty, rose to 
 go, the door suddenly opened and a large red-haired 
 woman appeared, buttoning hastily her dressing 
 sack ; the younger woman remembered then that 
 she had seen her before at the Ocean House at 
 Newport. She was still handsome, but in the bright 
 
 327
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 June daylight looked, despite the whiteness of skin 
 that goes with such red hair, rather coarse and fully 
 fifty. 
 
 " Oh," she gasped, releasing the one button she 
 had almost succeeded in securing, " I thought it was 
 a clerk who are you? " Quite regardless, now, of 
 her deshabille, the woman crossed her legs upon a 
 sofa and lit a cigarette. Poor Miss Aylwin shrank 
 back, with all a young girl s modesty. " I had a 
 cheque for Mr Breese," she stammered. " Are you 
 Mrs Breese? " 
 
 " Sure. I ll take it for him." But as she spoke 
 the door opened, and a loud voice spoke: 
 
 " Miss Aylwin, I hate to contradict a lady, but 
 this one is Mrs Beaumont " and Mr Breese marched 
 in. " Thank you for the cheque. You will not, I 
 presume, need any receipt? I am only sorry you 
 were troubled with coming here." 
 
 Mrs Beaumont, or, to give her her real name, 
 Jennie Starbuck, looked from one to the other with 
 gathering color. 
 
 " So you know one another, do you? And I m 
 to be cast off, now I no longer have to support you? " 
 
 " Jennie," said the old man, sternly, " the cheque 
 shall be yours all yours see, it is $20,000 but 
 you shall do two things. You shall first apologize 
 for what you have said to her and of me. And then 
 
 328
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 you will say, in her presence, that you are not my 
 wife." 
 
 Mrs Beaumont took the cheque and looked at it 
 curiously, pulling the gown about her neck. Miss 
 Aylwin gathered herself up on her shaking knees, 
 to go. 
 
 " One moment, Miss Aylwin. God knows I apolo 
 gize, but you must see this through." 
 
 " Is the cheque good? " said Mrs Beaumont. 
 
 " Miss this lady will tell you it is certified." 
 
 " Oh, you know her name fast enough ! Well, 
 I ll take it. I guess it s worth more than you are. 
 I wouldn t a married you, anyhow." 
 
 " That will do," said Breese, writing his name 
 on the cheque. 
 
 " As for this lady Well, you always liked em 
 young, Miles." 
 
 Mr Breese hurried Miss Aylwin through the door, 
 opposite which still stood open the elevator and, one 
 might add, its open-mouthed attendant. " I am 
 afraid she will never apologize." 
 
 " Oh, it doesn t matter." Miss Aylwin buried her 
 face in her hands. " Why did they ever send me 
 here? " 
 
 " Even Mr Gresham didn t realize what a beast I 
 had become," said Breese. " I can t ask you to for 
 give me, and, egad! (that chuckle returned to his 
 22 329
 
 IN CUR OF HER SOUL 
 
 voice which for forty years had made him so popular 
 at clubs ; Mr Miles Breese, for but very few moments 
 at a time, could tune his manner to the note of trag 
 edy) you mustn t forget." 
 
 But it was with every possible deference and mark 
 of respect that Mr Breese conducted the poor girl 
 through the hallway, where, calling a carriage, he 
 placed her in it, and in the presence of the porter 
 gave a formal good-by. 
 
 The next evening Miss Aylwin, reading her favor 
 ite society column of her favorite paper, in the " gen 
 teel " boarding house that was her home, came upon 
 the following announcement: 
 
 "Colonel Miles Breese, the well-known sportsman, 
 sailed this morning for Europe upon the Paris, 
 accompanied by his recent bride, formerly Mrs Cyrus 
 H. Snyder, of Pittsburg." 
 
 XXXVIII 
 
 TO Mary Ravenel, living alone in her poor little 
 rooms on the mean street, the newspaper was 
 the only harbinger of her father s fortune. For 
 Miles Breese s better self usually limited its activities 
 to the recognition of its worser. He never acted 
 upon such cognitions ; and Emerson has said that 
 
 330
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 high emotions not resulting in the corresponding 
 actions are demoralizing to the soul. She could have 
 wished therefore that he had written her a letter. She 
 thought of her mother ; whatever it was, she had 
 atoned; she had gone to the end of him. (The end 
 of Miles Breese was not long.) She must reconstruct 
 her life. And her interest was, after all, humanity ; 
 she had nothing to do with humanity in the concrete, 
 or, indeed, with men : for them the path of gold, 
 unaware of the hedge roses ; her heart was with the 
 women working alone. 
 
 (Austin Pinckney, however, was working alone, 
 if ever a man was ; and his heart went out to her that 
 very day. O wasted vibrations, dull ether atoms, 
 vain vortices, or whatever by the latest authori 
 ties you are, that can transport so crass a thing 
 as heat, and not the will of mind ! Yet Mary 
 Ravenel this moment was burying a blush unseen. 
 From now on, Austin knew his heart; she was hid 
 ing hers.) 
 
 Her heart was with the women working alone. 
 Their work was cheap ; was it, after all, better that 
 they should work at all ? By love they might reign ; 
 and that was cheaper still, they gave it away. Was 
 Ruskin, after all, right, when crying out his higher 
 plea upon the commonplaces of Wages-fund, De 
 mand, Supply, he called that the last touch of wrong 
 
 331
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 when women, superfluous, demand a hold on the 
 mattock for themselves as well? And now, some of 
 her friends gentle, secluded Miss Brevier for in 
 stance thought the ballot, too, might help. What 
 was the result of all their labor? In factories, a 
 wage upon which a man alone could live so wives 
 must also work or, like climbing parasites, unwork- 
 ing and unwed, draw sustenance from other lives, in 
 the process destroying them, shutting out, as in a 
 tropic forest, the air of heaven. 
 
 (Woman, says our major, is a slave, not to be 
 entrusted with wealth or power. Independent, she 
 is crushed; or, if dowered, becomes a monster. In 
 normal Islam, a man may see four women, but, as 
 the sheik remarked to Lady Duff Gordon, they stay 
 beneath his roof for life. In abnormal Christendom, 
 a man perhaps has seen a hundred, and cares not 
 where they die or where their babes are born. Thus 
 do extremes approach each other, the worldly-wise 
 hark back to savagery.) 
 
 But Mary went on thinking. Women s rights? 
 The right to what? The right to be hanged? The 
 right to live their lives down to men s? The right 
 to the primal curse of labor. Where was the cure? 
 In Christianity, in the amendment of living. " Lead 
 the life." Who would believe that it never had been 
 tried? Well, she would try it. She could bid others 
 
 332
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 try it. She could make, perhaps It was Dorothy 
 she now was thinking of. 
 
 She must telegraph old Mrs Warfield. She 
 might perhaps not see that morning s papers and 
 she would think, of course, that this had been her 
 own errand in New York. Well, why not? Was 
 not, after all, this the urgent business of her father s 
 telegram ? 
 
 She had thrown herself out of bed and was hur 
 riedly dressing herself. She might get the morning 
 train. Why not? (Formulated, her thoughts had 
 been : He is doubtless gone from Ravenel. Even if 
 not, self-consciousness was shameful. There had been 
 no betrayal of his secret. She must be emerald. But 
 women have lettres-de-cachet for such thoughts.) 
 
 As she made her coffee, she threw open the win 
 dows and the breath of June came in. Far away, 
 above the housetops, she could see, when it was clear, 
 the blue line of the Sound. (It was very clear to-day.) 
 
 Coming down, she found a letter from Mr Pinck- 
 ney. It had been forwarded by her grandmother 
 from Ravenel and was dated at Wheeling. A " bread- 
 and-butter " letter the English call it a Collins, 
 after the respectable gentleman so named in one of 
 Jane Austen s novels. There was no reason for her 
 hesitation in opening it. A bread-and-butter some 
 say board-and-lodging letter. Austin himself had 
 
 333
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 so entitled it when writing it, and made it a model of 
 its kind. 
 
 " Dear Miss Ravenel," it ran (he was not daring 
 the possessive), " I must write to thank you for your 
 hospitality, though I have also written to Mrs War- 
 field. I am only sorry that my early morning walk 
 should have caused me to be absent when you were 
 suddenly called to the city. I was but one train be 
 hind you ; but at Baltimore I found letters which 
 have led me out here. Some clients have got a coal 
 mining property, on which the men are refusing to 
 work. I am so glad to have seen Ravenel. Believe 
 me, yours very sincerely Could he be offended? 
 Ah, she knew too well that he was. not offended. 
 She tore up the note and went into the street. Her 
 unseasonable return found her without occupation. 
 She could hardly call together her classes for a day 
 or two. Yet for some reason she did not feel like 
 going back at once to Ravenel. The long summer 
 was before her, and on the old estate there was, after 
 all, she now felt, little to do. She never before had 
 wished she were a man ; but now she half formulated 
 this commonplace to herself. After all, their lives 
 were always full of action. True, she herself had 
 filled her Working year with service service of others 
 which, after all, is the best the best of us can do, 
 when not mere adventurers, self-seeking. A woman- 
 
 334
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 adventurer was detestable. She had known such; 
 not in the vulgar sense ; Miss Ravenel included in her 
 definition young ladies consciously intending mar 
 riage. Common life is labor, the higher life is serv 
 ice; such a life is always full. It is the idler, the 
 pleasure seeker, who finds life empty. All the same, 
 a woman s life is liable to long vacations. The inter 
 est is not continuous. What was she to do with her 
 self just now? She could not bring herself to call 
 upon the Havilands. Her father s wedding was too 
 recent. That, perhaps, had been but a poor idol ; yet 
 she had cherished it. Somehow, now, it was gone. 
 The faith his life had failed to shake his marriage 
 had overthrown. She blushed a little as she remem 
 bered another instance in her life, a little woolly lamb 
 that she had had when four years old. She had 
 always carried it, for years and years, under her left 
 arm. The legs had dropped off, one by one, and the 
 wool had come out, until finally nothing was left but 
 a little fold of sheepskin. Still she loved it more 
 than ever. But one summer she was taken on a jour 
 ney, and the lamb was left behind; and it was some 
 years after before she found it again, in a drawer, a 
 rag of skin and wool, and she had blushed scarlet to 
 remember how she had loved it once. 
 
 Then she tried hard not to be too fond of 
 Ravenel. It must pass out of her life in a year or 
 
 335
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 two, she knew. Her grandmother was very fond of 
 her, but, coming down at noon and ordering the farm, 
 managed distinctly well to get on without her. Old 
 lady Warfield was no bourgeoise ! Mary smiled to 
 herself, rather sadly she loved her en aristocrate ; 
 she had really preferred hearing of her at grand 
 balls to having her all the time at Ravcnel. Also, 
 she liked quite undivided authority there. But the 
 beautiful girl, her granddaughter, was to take her 
 own place in the great world, and, of course, to marry 
 well. She had never said a word of this, but Miss 
 Ravenel knew well enough it was in her mind, and 
 felt conscience stricken she was doing so little not 
 to disappoint her. 
 
 There was, to be sure, Freddy Wiston. His roses 
 had lain in the hall with Pinckney s letter. Poor 
 little Freddy (he weighed over two hundred, rosy 
 and chubby, and was not even short, but somehow one 
 always called him " little " Fred Wiston) he had 
 his delicate perceptions, despite his millions and his 
 materialism, and he had known that she would like 
 something friendly to-day. He could not come to 
 see her, of course, in her flat, so he made up for it 
 by frequent flowers. It made him too desperately 
 unhappy when she would not take them ; and to beg 
 him not to send them was but to invite another pro 
 posal. He had seen her twice or thrice, in the grand 
 
 336
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 balls of her first season. What he saw in her she 
 could not imagine -he was a shrewd man of business, 
 owner of mountains of iron and copper, devoted to 
 the making of millions, and had proposed to her 
 thirty-seven times in the ensuing four years. Yet 
 she felt that she never could say yes. 
 
 (She came near it once, though. It was some 
 years later when she herself was being discussed, on 
 her first return from Europe, by some vulgar Duval 
 people. One didn t think she had ever been a beauty, 
 and the other deplored her inability to marry- Both 
 doubted her ever having had eligible offers. They 
 were two great ladies ; and Wiston was a shy and still 
 a young man But at this Miss Ravenel had 
 heard he interposed. " All I have to say," the little 
 gentleman had said, " is that she could have married 
 me any time these ten years.") 
 
 Well, she did not, usually, even write to acknowl 
 edge his roses now. He had begged her not to; 
 and it was well understood that they the roses 
 went promptly to some one of her sick pupils. But 
 to-day she wrote, and made the poor fellow happy 
 for a day. But she told him that she was going 
 to leave her apartment, so that he must send no 
 more. 
 
 She wrote another note a note to Miss Aylwin, 
 asking her to come and see her that evening. She 
 
 337
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 was strangely interested in this handsome girl, who 
 seemed, in some way, so much finer than her mind. 
 They spent the evening together. Miss Ravenel 
 asked her to go to the philharmonic concert. But 
 the music did not much appeal to her: she seemed 
 more interested in the people. Also, she had been 
 disappointed that they did not " dress." In fine, the 
 result was rather disappointing ; she tried again to 
 interest her in her own work, but Miss Aylwin seemed 
 rather fastidious about meeting working girls. She 
 didn t even seem to understand why Miss Ravenel 
 liked to. " You know," she said, " you can t make 
 them any different." 
 
 " Come and try," said Miss Ravenel. 
 
 But the pretty stenographer shook her head. 
 " It s all very well for you," she said ; " you re a lady, 
 a society lady. You can do things ; besides, they all 
 look up to you. But they d treat me like one of them 
 selves. I ve served an apprenticeship in a telephone 
 school it s the same thing. And the telephone girls 
 are worse. You have to sit alongside of a girl, per 
 haps, Avho all her nights and Sundays leads a gay 
 life." Miss Aylwin spoke simply, as a man who 
 recognizes such things, but Miss Ravenel repressed 
 an oh ! "I mean that they see men evenings, and not 
 always the same men. They used to show me their 
 photographs and things. Common girls are just 
 
 338
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 common girls, and they don t want to be anything 
 else." 
 
 " Oh, oh ! " said poor Miss Ravenel, this time un 
 able to be silent. " But couldn t you have com 
 plained to the company ? " 
 
 " And lose my situation ? The company can t 
 afford to consider the girls private lives. Some of 
 the very worst are the best operators. When they 
 work on a man s job, they must be judged like men 
 are. No one cares what a man does out of office 
 hours, even the girls don t." 
 
 " Oh, Miss Aylwin " 
 
 " Well, I mean common girls. Most of us can t 
 be ladies. And there s no pretending to be; it only 
 makes them discontented." Miss Aylwin closed with 
 a sigh. 
 
 " But you are a lady," said Miss Ravenel. 
 
 Miss Aylwin blushed with pleasure. 
 
 XXXIX 
 
 INJUNCTION modified. Settlement of the Park- 
 field coal strike. At a hearing to-day before 
 Judge Edsall who granted the injunction last week 
 against the striking miners at Parkfield, that part 
 of his decree which enjoined the miners from leaving 
 
 339
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 their employment pending the present contract or 
 from assembling together or marching with flags 
 upon highways was amended by agreement of counsel, 
 Hugh Michael representing the miners and Charles 
 A. Pinckney, of New York, the operating company. 
 A prompt settlement of the strike is now confidently 
 anticipated." To Miss Ravenel, opening her Sun 
 upon the train as she returned the next day, this 
 dispatch appeared most prominent ; and turning to 
 the inside pages she found an editorial article upon 
 the " novel doctrine thus promulgated." 
 
 How quickly the " world of men " for him ! She 
 envied, one moment, a man s potentiality of action ; 
 subconsciously, the dispatch relieved her. She had 
 been resolutely holding certain thoughts at arm s 
 length. Yet she suspected for this our heroine was 
 a woman why he had not come back to New York, 
 why he had preferred the ruder fight in the moun 
 tains. After all, it might yet be well, and she had 
 but gained a friend. The superfluous she had sud 
 denly seen in his face that day would naturally sub 
 side, transmute itself to quieter thoughts. Meantime 
 it was a great thing to fight. And for herself that 
 summer the world of dreams. 
 
 But Mary Ravenel did not dream that, from that 
 time on, he fought but as Palomides " crying her 
 name." Yet may never words express what passes 
 
 340
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 in the pure heart of a young girl ; it is a mystery for 
 herself let it then remain a mystery to us who are 
 outside. 
 
 Her grandmother made no comment on their 
 recent guest ; and after all she found work ready to 
 hand. Kollner, the flaxen-curled young foreman of 
 the watch factory, came to her in some trouble. The 
 " trust " for so he practically called that myste 
 rious entity whose very existence was always strenu 
 ously denied had again intimated that the watch 
 cases, which it was their custom to buy ready made, 
 might in future be nonprocurable by independent 
 manufacturers. Now, to have made their own cases 
 would have almost absorbed the profit they could 
 now make on the delicate hand-made works. He had 
 enough cases on hand, Kollner told her, to finish the 
 season ; but if he could get no more? He went to her 
 because it was his habit, like everyone else s in the 
 neighborhood, to go to her ; afterwards, perhaps, if 
 she so advised, they went to a lawyer. 
 
 Mary promised to see what she could do ; and 
 then they had a little talk about other matters. She 
 had arranged, later, to visit the Havilands, but the 
 rest of the summer she meant to devote to an experi 
 ment to which her grandmother had been induced, 
 only with the greatest difficulty, to consent. This 
 was, not only to invite a more or less permanent 
 
 341
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 house party from among the younger working 
 women she knew in New York, but to invite one or 
 two guests of a different class, possibly even gen 
 tlemen, to meet them. In her own mind the expense 
 had been the sole objection, but she found that this 
 did not even occur to her grandmother what indeed 
 has a marquise to do with dollars and cents? and 
 after all farm supplies were the one thing that cost 
 them nothing. And the extra household work would 
 be done by the girls themselves. No ; it was the social 
 objection that figured largely in Mrs Warfield s 
 mind. " And suppose," she added in climax, " your 
 gentlemen should fall in love with your young 
 women? Or it might be the other way about in 
 that class you never can tell." 
 
 " Well, I only meant the Havilands they have 
 promised to come down for a week in September, 
 just before the vacation ends, and I go back with 
 them and young Kollner, the foreman it might 
 be the best thing for him, for I m sure he ll make 
 trouble if he marries any girl in the factory and 
 perhaps Mr Wiston. He won t fall in love with any 
 body," Miss Ravenel ended, a little sadly. 
 
 " How do you know? " said the old lady, speak 
 ing and looking a little sharply. " In my days we did 
 not play with a man." But the girl only looked se 
 rious and kept her own counsel. For poor Freddy 
 
 342
 
 n AY EX El. 
 
 V 
 
 In my days we did not play with a man. "
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 was past playing with or praying for only humbly 
 beatitudinous when in her presence she had thor 
 oughly tried absence, and now was treating him 
 homeopathically. And why not, after all, lift the 
 poor fellow to the seventh heaven when it did no 
 harm? If he saw much of her, naturally and simply, 
 she might dispel some of the ridiculous glamour with 
 which he surrounded her. (But why did it never, in 
 later times, occur to her to treat Austin Pinckney in 
 this fashion?) And as for the girls, why, none of 
 them would fall in love with Freddy Wiston. When 
 she had playfully warned him not to do so himself, 
 the vivacious millionaire had had one of the few mo 
 ments in which history could record his eloquent 
 silence, but he had looked at her, with a dog s eye, 
 which made her sorry; moreover, she felt grateful 
 to him for controlling, in so apposite a juncture, his 
 thirty-eighth proposal. 
 
 But Freddy, who had entered with enthusiasm 
 into the scheme, regarded himself upon honor not 
 to propose while being, or going to be, her guest, 
 and proffered himself, moreover, as willing to meet, 
 or even escort down, Miss Aylwin, whose portrait 
 Miss Ravenel, in most glowing colors, had painted, 
 to an ear (or should it be eye?) most dulled and in 
 attentive. This much had been arranged before she 
 left New York ; only that Miss Aylwin, strangely 
 
 343
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 shy, with difficulty prevailed upon to come, had per 
 sistently refused any escort. 
 
 So now for Freddy could hardly be the only 
 gentleman she was asking Kollner, and explaining 
 to him, tactfully as she always could, why he was to 
 come and who the ladies were that he might meet, 
 and otherwise gracefully handling his social diffidence ; 
 he was not, of course, to stay in the house, being a 
 neighbor, but to come to dinner and join in their 
 walks. And the scarlet flush that colored the blond 
 skin to the very root of his yellow hair indicated how 
 gratefully he welcomed the invitation. What was 
 there in the young woman s personality that made 
 so many a man flush with pleasure if she merely spoke 
 to him? She was not considered a beauty in the great 
 world poor Austin, in the years to come, would 
 notice, with a curious mixture of joy and anger, how 
 little such men " men of the world " noticed her. 
 Then, for second, she had secured a famous young 
 clergyman ; fascinated with the scheme, he had begged 
 to spend part of his vacation as one of her guests. 
 His dream was to mingle, to bring to a mutual com 
 prehension, different social classes. He made, laugh 
 ingly, but one condition : he wished to learn how 
 young women of that grade of society first met their 
 followers, and begged, therefore, that his condition 
 as a married man be withheld from them ! and Miss 
 
 344
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Ravenel, also laughingly, though calling it most im 
 moral, had assented. She told her grandmother, ex 
 plaining, too, that they might be told, or find it out 
 naturally, after a few days or at the proper time; 
 but that lady seemed to think that in such a general 
 mix up of impossible relations a travesti more or less 
 did not matter. Also she remembered, with a twinkle 
 of her bright young eyes, that too many cooks would 
 spoil the broth, and that, to her taste, the more red 
 pepper the better. 
 
 But Miss Ravenel did not know what to do about 
 the watch business. She would write to Pinckney, as a 
 lawyer, she said to herself; but somehow she didn t. 
 She ended by writing to John Haviland. She gave him 
 a long exposition of the situation ; its history, and 
 the conditions which had led to it. " They," she said 
 (she was necessarily vague in her pronouns), " they 
 have offered for the stock of the little company a 
 price which hardly more than represents the present 
 value of the plant without good will " where does 
 she get her grasp of business, thought John " and, 
 moreover, would reduce their wives to idleness. Most 
 of them cannot do machinery work if they would, 
 and the girls must not leave Laurel Run. They live 
 at home, and work in pleasant places ; in short, the 
 whole outfit (as Freddy Wiston would say) is just 
 such as we all hope will be typical in the future. Yet 
 23 345
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 if they can t buy watch cases they must go out of 
 business. I suppose there is no law compelling the 
 Trust to sell to them. Nor, I suppose, to make the 
 same price to them that they do to others. Most of 
 the retailers already refuse to sell our watches, so 
 they can hurt us no more there; our clientele, for 
 our limited output, is assured without new markets. 
 They have had the railroad raise its freight rates ; but 
 the goods are so concentrated in value and the city 
 of Baltimore so near that we can cart them if neces 
 sary ; Philadelphia, too, is not far off ; while the best 
 sale of all is to old Southern families coming to Wash 
 ington who buy them at our office there as their 
 fathers did before them. But we must have the 
 cases. I have only thought that Messrs Stair & 
 Lorimer, who make only cheaper watches and sell 
 the Laurel Run side by side with them, might be in 
 terested enough in us to consent to buy our cases in 
 their name. It is a case of industrial warfare in 
 which all is fair." 
 
 To which John Haviland replied, inclosing a letter 
 from the Miners Bank to Messrs Stair & Lorimer 
 " which might be of some help," and only saying that 
 " upon consideration of her conclusion, as expressed 
 in her last sentence, he really did not see why she 
 needed any further advice upon the subject." 
 
 So Austin was spared his letter. But reading, 
 346
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 a few weeks later, in the Times (how do such things 
 get into the paper?) that " Miss Ravenel was enter 
 taining, at Ravenel in Maryland, a house party con 
 sisting of the Rev. Bernard Rhodes, David Radnor, 
 Frederic Wiston, and Miss Aylwin of New York " 
 his heart closed in upon itself. 
 
 How could he know that Freddy was still only 
 at his thirty-seventh proposal? Or that Miss Aylwin 
 quiet Miss Aylwin had herself sent the item to 
 the Times? 
 
 He was very near to tears again, that night, as 
 he said his prayers for her happiness. 
 
 XL 
 
 THE heart knoweth its own bitterness. As 
 Austin had lain there, that old day at Ra 
 venel, his face close to the little gray and red mosses, 
 arguing it away with his intellect, this was all he 
 knew : all except that " the wood spurge has little 
 stems of three." He never forgot the shape and 
 habit of that crisp, warm moss ; old it was, older 
 than his sorrow ; it would be there still when his love 
 was gone. No : nothing as this was eternal ; no 
 change in the mere physical world so great. The 
 wood sorrel might leaf, flower, wither, leaf again ; 
 
 347
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 the old gray moss might take its centuries to grow 
 upon the living stone, and these would be but mo 
 ments to his living soul. " In the beginning was the 
 Word This was his soul s word and he had not 
 waited for it. 
 
 He had been startled at his own first flood of 
 tears ; he had looked at the wet moss as a stag, 
 sunken to his knees, might look upon the reddening 
 grass ; now his face was dry, and he knew that never 
 so would it be wet again. Even in his mind he soon 
 gave up the effort at denial, the effort at hope, the 
 effort of clear vision of any future. The world had 
 been so willed for him, that was all. Not heaven it 
 self on earth could work his cure. The heart know- 
 eth its own bitterness. 
 
 Then his clinched hands crisped until they tore 
 his nails upon the time-worn rock. The coming 
 thought sent its messenger of horror ; the heart 
 closed cold upon itself before the head had spelled 
 the word. O God, if he had waited ! Had a door 
 but opened the other way, had a door before him 
 but been closed. He might have met her any day, 
 at the Havilands , at Mr Gresham s office. What 
 angel from hell had guided his steps, those days, 
 that he and she were kept apart ! It might, so easily, 
 have been why had he not waited ! He had not 
 truly known that love could be. Yet, for all eter- 
 
 348
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 nity, her soul had been ; " well enough " he knew it ; 
 well enough, and now his own was no other thing 
 than hers. And too late, too late by all the laws of 
 conscience and this world. 
 
 This, then, was love. And he had not believed. 
 That was the unpardonable sin, he had not believed. 
 He had taken the song and story of the world he 
 had taken both the passion of Tristan and the life 
 love of the grim Florentine he had taken the his 
 tories of the actions of all noble men for song and 
 story. He had credited the libertines. Impliedly, 
 he, who was different, had followed the average mul 
 titude, the horrible Puritan view that sees nothing 
 in love but the sin, naught in the woman but sex 
 das erste beste. 
 
 Austin never deceived himself. After its one 
 first effort at pretense, his mind saw the futility of 
 it. This was love, and it was the end. There should 
 be no shirking. And he repeated the phrase aloud, 
 many, many times Mary Ravenel, Mary Ravenel, 
 Mary Ravenel and then again, with a hush, / love 
 you\ the Word eternal, which he who uttering pro 
 fanes if he come not to the altar with clean heart. 
 And uttering this word about her, had it been even 
 to her, Austin could feel no sense of sin. Yet he 
 did not blind himself. He loved her as a saint may 
 set his face toward a distant shrine that he shall 
 
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 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 never see; as a priest may kneel before his secret 
 ikon; and yet he knew he also loved her as a man a 
 woman. And he could not feel that there was sin 
 in it. 
 
 And then, for very shame, he buried his burning 
 face once more in the new dry moss. The sin had 
 been before. What now was he to poor Dorothy, 
 or she, alas! to him? Dorothy had not destroyed 
 his happiness she had only shown him it had never 
 been. And here he held his thoughts by the throat. 
 
 One wonders if the Puritans, if the common citi 
 zens are right or are they conscious hypocrites? 
 Dorothy and Austin might have parted the day 
 after their marriage and in a few days forgotten 
 each other. It was in the succeeding week that had 
 come their real courtship, but even then the relation 
 might have ended, like Rosaline s to Romeo. In a 
 year, Dorothy was no different girl than she had 
 been the day she wrote her fatal letter. What irrep 
 arable except to the Mohammedan, the libertine 
 what irreparable had happened? Their marriage 
 had been, alas ! but a thing of the senses the Puri 
 tans say all marriages are so, and do their best to 
 make it so ; and are " shocked " when a Tolstoi points 
 out their own hypocrisy. This, they say, is the one 
 determining thing, as they set forth the wedding 
 feast: the girl has been educated by suggestive si- 
 
 350
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 lences, the boy told by prurient suggestion, the inci 
 dent, as it were, been dramatized by the British 
 Matron so ordering life and they are told that 
 this is all. But it is the birth of a child that makes 
 of a girl a woman, the birth of love that makes of a 
 boy a man ; nor is it a sin to love who loves truly. 
 It is the Puritan who would make naught of love. 
 It is our conventioners who say : There is no such 
 love : it is the formula only that counts ; after that 
 all is the same. 
 
 A philosopher may carry his thoughts a little 
 farther than a gentleman. Austin Pinckney only 
 thought that somehow his life had ended before 
 it had begun. Then he got as far as the remorse 
 the terrible, unrepentant remorse that he had 
 shown his love to her. What dreams he might have 
 had of far-off worship, or even of companionship, 
 perhaps, in work or sorrow if not in joy, had come 
 to wreck. And then of the " might have been " 
 but that way madness lay and then of the shame 
 of his past, as if it had been some low amour if 
 sin it was, ihe marriage did not sanctify it. But it 
 was not, then, sin ; no man could think it sin ; and 
 yet by it his life was ended ; things were wrong. He 
 had but been born to-day, and he was born in chains. 
 
 Had she, after all, seen his love? She was angry, 
 she had turned her face away. His path lay dark 
 
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 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 before him. Now only one thing was clear he must 
 never see her. He must never see her, and she had 
 gone away displeased. She could not understand; 
 he could never tell her. Nothing remained. Any 
 man will have a thought of suicide at such a time; 
 but to a man like him it comes as a triviality to be 
 dismissed with a scoff. Wherein would it profit him 
 to lose his life? He was enlisted in the whole of 
 things he was no " quitter." If there was anything 
 in him immortal, that thing would not be altered by 
 his death. Moreover, Miss Ravenel was still among 
 the souls which dwell on earth. I am you, I am you, 
 he kept saying. But she had turned her face from 
 him. There was no hope. God himself could alter 
 these things not. God himself could now not bring 
 him happiness. God himself could not make her do 
 ill, nor could he even pray that she might think of 
 him again. 
 
 He could only, as Palomyd: 
 
 " Never glad with sweetness of his lady s eyes 
 Unloved ever, still must love the same, 
 And riding ever through a lonely world 
 Against the danger desperately hurled, 
 Crying her name." 
 
 He arose and went down to the house. And there, 
 as if for his blasphemy, there came some surcease of 
 
 352
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 the bitterness that filled the poor man s heart ; the 
 beginning of the happiness of faith. The gentle, 
 deep-eyed old lady had another message for him ; it 
 was the telegram Miss Ravenel had sent from Balti 
 more about her father s need, and with it a word for 
 Austin. " Tell him," she had written, " I did not 
 know that I should not see him to say good-by when 
 I took the early train." 
 
 To say good-by ! What did it mean ? At all events 
 oh, thank God ! she had meant to see him again. 
 She had been willing to see him again. Had the 
 gentle girl seen the effect of her word, she had taken 
 it away from him, perhaps ; she had only meant to 
 prevent his accentuating the cause of her departure ; 
 but his heart sang Nunc dimittis. Now he could go 
 in peace. Mr Warfield pressed him to stay, but no, 
 he, too, had business in West Virginia. " Perhaps 
 he would come again, on his return?" His heart 
 leaped at the words ! But no ; he might not come 
 again. Some time, then, said the kindly old lady. 
 Yes, some time. 
 
 He went once more up the leafy valley, the brook 
 in its ferny solitude below. Here was the place he 
 had first looked at her, the dropping water still glis 
 tening on the rock. He drank the picture to his 
 heart, for he should never see it again, and the sweet 
 dell itself was but the frame of a picture carried 
 
 353
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 henceforth in his memory a dark-haired, slender 
 girl, in a simple gown with a mist in her eyes. Her 
 face seemed blurred in the mist of his own ; her face, 
 alone, was never more clear ; this, though, was to be 
 the blazon of his shield through life. 
 
 Then he went in peace. And with the motion of 
 the train, the hurry of action, the telegraphing and 
 answering of telegrams, the decision not to return 
 upon her footsteps as it were, the seeing where lay 
 his work, in West Virginia; finally, in the cool of 
 the evening, the quiet train, thundering its mighty 
 way along the Alleghenies the rest of motion and 
 the turmoil of his loneliness his peace gave way to 
 joy. His soul repelled remorse or doubt, refused to 
 plan, refused to think, denied to heaven the wrong. 
 
 He saw the joy of all the days behind him the 
 unconscious joy of the many weeks preceding and 
 as the lonely stars sing in their spheres, each travel 
 ing alone on its appointed way, he sang within his 
 lonely heart and worshiped God. 
 
 XLI 
 
 I DEMAND the cancellation of this injunction," 
 thundered Pinckney. The weak judge cowered 
 upon his bench ; he had been placed there by the rail-
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 road senator, and wanted to " hold his job " ; he knew 
 no law, but well he knew his job. The quaint old- 
 fashioned Virginia-Doric court room was crowded 
 with anxious miners ; the plaster cast of female Jus 
 tice, holding the scales, had bared her breast, but lost 
 one blinded eye ; the local counsel for the railroad 
 and the miners, dressed all alike in rusty frock coats 
 and black string ties, spat at the spittoons impa 
 tiently ; the terrorized Hungarian witness, only 
 partly reassured, kept his eyes fixed upon the dirty 
 Bible he had kissed ; outside the rail a pack of flannel- 
 shirted miners looked over at their unexpected deliv 
 erer with wide-open eyes. For Austin Pinckney had 
 " blood in his neck " ; he knew the time to bluster, the 
 place to knock down and drag out. So he pointed 
 his white forefinger at the judge and dropped the 
 slow words one by one, hissing like a blacksmith s 
 iron in its trough of water: 
 
 " Your honor should know, and if it does not I 
 will inform it (this was the tone that Pinckney 
 dared to take), that the writ of injunction was the 
 highest writ in the king s prerogative." His honor 
 looked at the great New York lawyer, puzzled; he 
 knew that he represented the famous Gresham firm; 
 he knew that he came from Wall Street ; and here he 
 was pleading against " the business interests of the 
 country." Surely, it was those " business interests " 
 
 355
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 that had made him what he was ; made him as they 
 had made the judge himself; his honor could not 
 understand it. 
 
 " And though in its ignorance your Legislature 
 has chosen to mix up law and equity, and every petty 
 magistrate now wields this mighty power (his honor 
 blinked rapidly, having visions of committing Pinck- 
 ney for contempt, but this he did not dare), a Fed 
 eral judge is still the successor of the king s chan 
 cellor keeper of the conscience of his sovereign 
 and your sovereign is the American people. The 
 conscience of America will not enslave. And your 
 honors wield this mighty sovereign power to prevent 
 irreparable wrong, not to hamper freemen s rights. 
 Do you not know how the common law tells us that 
 the contract of labor alone of all contracts may not 
 be compelled of enforcement, because any compulsion 
 to labor is slavery ? That when you forbid these de 
 fendants to walk upon the earth, to consult, to meet 
 together, you are playing the Stuart s game and 
 when you enjoin other men who have never heard of 
 you, you or your petty court, from doing anything 
 that you may choose to call interference, and commit 
 them to jail without a trial, you are using his Star- 
 Chamber tools ? Will you en j oin the whole country 
 to keep even the Ten Commandments? to do your 
 will? and then condemn any citizen of it who in your 
 
 356
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 judgment has not done so without a trial, or no 
 tice, or defense to punishment and loss of liberty? 
 
 " What are we here for ? What Federal question 
 is here involved? These miners are West Virginia 
 citizens ; are not her laws sufficient to keep them in 
 order? If not, are we a police court? No; it is 
 because the profits of that sacred being, a New Jersey 
 corporation, are here in jeopardy, that you have 
 moved." He turned to the company counsel. " You 
 have had a dispute with your help I care not which 
 is right but to get your way you invoke the fiction 
 of the corporation and pretend it dwells in Hoboken, 
 when all its real life is here, that you may drag into 
 your sordid local quarrel the mighty power of the 
 United States and end the case in bloodshed and cold 
 steel ! " 
 
 Austin s success or apparent success in their 
 old mill case had caused Gresham to write to him at 
 length about this coal-mining affair ; and he, anxious 
 to get somewhere, anywhere, anxious to be fighting 
 something, had promptly telegraphed that he would 
 go to the scene at once and only asked full powers. 
 And arriving there in the early morning he had gone, 
 not to the office of their local attorney, not to the 
 superintendent of the mine, but to the lodge rooms 
 of the local Federation of Labor. It was early morn 
 ing and the men were all sober ; he found them, 
 
 357
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 indeed, plotting the demonstration for the day. 
 Frankly, he stated who he was ; but then he pre 
 sented his letters of introduction his " character " 
 as it were letters from labor unions in Nauchester, 
 in Boston, in New York certifying that he was 
 " fair." And he told them he had come to them first, 
 wishing to hear their side; that he was not come as 
 a lawyer ; that, indeed, he would take no steps in court 
 without their knowledge. This was a thing to be set 
 tled first as between man and man, not with soldiers 
 or with Pinkerton men. 
 
 It took him all that day to gain their confidence, 
 even to the extent that they would promise to meet 
 him, with the real leaders, in the evening. For, as 
 the day wore on, he heard a good deal of " old man 
 Zappi." He soon suspected that the officers of the 
 local union were not, after all, " the real thing." 
 Zappi, it appeared, was a sort of independent pros 
 pector ; he had lived there many years amid the 
 mountains, making experiments with their iron ore; 
 it is leadership of men, not official rank, that counts 
 in a partisan war; what Zappi said, he was told, 
 " went." 
 
 Zappi turned out to be a vast black-bearded 
 Italian, six feet and a half high, who had spent the 
 best years of his youth in an Austrian prison. With 
 him he visited the miners homes rude unpainted 
 
 358
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 pinewood tenements, where four families herded to 
 gether with a common sink, paying eight dollars a 
 month rent each to the company contrary to the 
 statutes of West Virginia. With him he visited the 
 " company " store, where the necessaries of life and 
 some of the poisons were sold to the miners and their 
 families, at high prices and on monthly credits also 
 against the law. Indeed, the miners were paid, not 
 in cash, but in coupons, redeemable indeed at the 
 company store, but only for the balance after the 
 bearer s account was liquidated ; and there was rarely 
 any balance. Very few of the miners ever saw the 
 color of the company s money ; on the contrary they 
 were heavily in debt to it, and all under the impres 
 sion, carefully fostered by the agent, that they could 
 not leave there if they would until the debt was paid. 
 With Zappi he finally went to some of the shafts of 
 the mine itself. Here the work was suspended ; only 
 the pumps, which had so far been respected by the 
 strikers, were moving to keep the mine free of water. 
 A few score men pickets, Austin fancied were 
 lazily smoking around the approaches to each shaft ; 
 a score or two of poorly clad women and girls were 
 reviling a dozen or so well-dressed men, armed with 
 Winchesters and revolvers, on guard behind the fence. 
 " Do the women work in the mine? " asked Aus 
 tin. " Surely that is against the law? " 
 
 359
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " It is," said Zappi. " So they only bring the 
 men their dinners. Perhaps sometimes they bear a 
 hand in pulling out a car or picking that is an 
 affair between them and husbands or fathers. Or 
 else they may be clerks in the shed. Don t they look 
 it? " said the big man with a laugh. 
 
 " No girls can be employed at all under fourteen 
 in any mine in West Virginia," said Austin. 
 
 " But a woman attains majority upon her mar 
 riage. Our Italian girls are marriageable very 
 young." 
 
 " The men inside, I suppose, are Federal marshals 
 or deputies? " 
 
 Zappi nodded. " The company swore in all they 
 could at three dollars a day. It is better pay than 
 they can get loafing around the barrooms at Charles 
 ton. Better pay and more fun. They killed a striker 
 only last night. They were in his house. He had 
 a pretty wife, and he had quarreled with her. They 
 did not go away after he was killed," said Zappi 
 grimly. 
 
 " But surely, if the man is known 
 
 " He has only to step across the main street to 
 be in Kentucky. The national Government has power 
 over the strikers, it seems, but it has no power over 
 those who kill the strikers." 
 
 " Surely, if he were a Federal marshal no, I see," 
 360
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 mused Austin. " A murder by a marshal would in 
 volve no Federal question." 
 
 " I do not profess to understand your Constitu 
 tion we used to think we wanted one in Lombardy. 
 However, the man had a brother or two," added Zappi 
 placidly. " He will be stabbed in a day or two, that 
 marshal. And then they will send up Pinkerton men. 
 Well, they are better behaved the Pinkerton men." 
 
 It was very different from the strike in Nauches- 
 ter. These people were really starving. Zappi spoke 
 an English that was both cultivated and idiomatic. 
 " You cannot expect the starving men to be too lady 
 like," said he. " Particularly, the women." 
 
 Pinckney determined that the strike should end. 
 This time, the cause was an avowed one. There was 
 no " screen law " in West Virginia the one that had 
 passed had been declared unconstitutional by her 
 Supreme Court so the company would weigh each 
 miner s output on its own scales, and only after it 
 had been " screened " and the rock or refuse and 
 dust rejected. As a consequence, though each man 
 was permitted only to mine the seam as it came, he 
 would often find that a full day s work had brought 
 but half day s pay. But, under the injunction, the 
 miners had no power of concerted resistance; other 
 men, Hungarians, were being rapidly imported; the 
 older Italians, who had known but that one home in 
 24 361
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 America, were to be turned out and rendered home 
 less ; and they were forbidden to warn them, or even 
 to persuade. The head men, moreover superinten 
 dents, foremen who had ignored a monthly con 
 tract, were in danger, under the wording of the in 
 junction, of arrest for breaking it. 
 
 Persuaded at last of his good faith, Zappi and 
 the two officials agreed to go with Austin to Wheel 
 ing where lived the Federal judge. Still suspicious 
 of his entertainment, it required Zappi s intelligent 
 assistance to prevail on them to dine with Austin at 
 the leading hotel, where, to Austin s amusement, these 
 sons of Anak made, from the pretentious catalogue 
 of the hotel bill of fare, a dinner consisting of a 
 plate of soup and three plates of diversified ice cream. 
 They did not dare accept his hospitality overnight, 
 and separated after midnight with a promise to meet 
 him in the court room that morning. 
 
 It was easy to persuade the local attorney that 
 he had gone too far ; it was less easy to persuade their 
 superintendent that the picture cards were not all in 
 his own hand. Whereupon Austin told him openly 
 that he was there to settle that strike ; and that if, 
 to do that, it was necessary to appear for the miners, 
 he would appear for the miners and move to vacate 
 the injunction in the morning. Meantime Zappi, he 
 told him (Zappi, from his birth near Fiume, knew 
 
 362
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Hungarian), had gone back to the mining camp to 
 organize a procession, with a few transparencies 
 written in Hungarian in case the injunction should 
 be modified. So the judge had been compelled to open 
 his court a court of equity, the reader knows, is 
 never closed and many miners, getting wind of it, 
 had come to town. 
 
 Austin had paused, after the words we have 
 quoted, and the judge fidgeted upon his bench im 
 patiently. " What then do you want ? " 
 
 " I want," said Austin, " that part of your in 
 junction which forbids American citizens from walk 
 ing on the highways, which denies freemen the right 
 to leave their labor when they choose, vacated. And, 
 since we are enjoining against criminal offenses, 
 I want this New Jersey plaintiff enjoined from 
 breaking the laws of West Virginia, in that it 
 compels the defendants to trade at the company 
 store and works young girls and women about the 
 mines." 
 
 Pinckney saw the counsel for the mine and rail 
 road put their heads together. 
 
 " I want the railway required to give Ferdinando 
 Zappi and other independent miners the same rates 
 it gives the plaintiff." 
 
 The railroad counsel spoke hastily to the judge; 
 and his honor interrupted. " I think Mr Pinck- 
 
 363
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 ney, this matter can be best settled by agree 
 ment of counsel in the lobby. Mr Clerk, adjourn 
 the court." 
 
 " And I promise," said Austin, uplifting his hand, 
 " that if this is done, all disorder shall cease, the 
 miners will return to work pending the arbitration 
 of the mine counsel, Mr Ferdinando Zappi, and my 
 self. Am I right, men? " He turned to the audience 
 of miners and repeated it in Italian. There was a 
 roar of assent. 
 
 Coming to the judge s private room, the whole 
 atmosphere was changed. The judge himself pro 
 duced cigars, and the railroad counsel, from a capa 
 cious green bag, a bottle of whisky. " Wouldn t do 
 to find such a thing in the judge s chambers- but this 
 comes in the original package, eh, judge? " 
 
 " Well, really," said his honor, looking away, 
 " you got me up rather early in the morning, boys. 
 But, brother Pinckney that move about the rates 
 in the first place, the railroad isn t a party ; in the 
 second place, your firm is counsel for it." 
 
 " Well," said Austin, " Zappi helped me ; one 
 good turn deserves another. I knew it was all among 
 friends," he added. 
 
 Southerners have not a keen sense of humor. 
 " The railroad doesn t make rates any different to 
 anybody. It owns the stock of the Powhatan coal 
 
 364
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 mine, or so I am informed. But it buys its coal at 
 the mine." 
 
 " The mine doesn t pay any dividends," said its 
 counsel significantly. " But how did you get them to 
 agree to the arbitration, Mr Pinckney? " 
 
 " Zappi and I have got it all arranged. You are 
 to pay a minimum rate per carload of mineral. And 
 then you are to pay an extra arbitrary for the mer 
 chantable coal." 
 
 " Well, I don t know that we can do any better, 
 particularly if his honor is going to emasculate our 
 injunction." 
 
 " Oh, brother Pinckney must fix up his injunc 
 tion. I ll sign it," said the judge. 
 
 " The deputy marshals must be discharged. I 
 have promised that." 
 
 " We shall be more than ready to stop the ex 
 pense. But how about the protection to property? " 
 
 " I ll answer for that," said Austin. " I m more 
 troubled about the Hungarians that witness was 
 frightened to death." 
 
 " Oh, the Huns and dagoes must fight it out," 
 said the court. " Anyhow, I ve got no jurisdiction." 
 
 But Pinckney went back and passed that night 
 at the mine, in the house of his friend Zappi. There 
 was no disorder ; only a procession with fireworks and 
 a little noise. The deputies were hustled out upon 
 
 365
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 a special train. And it was some years before an 
 other strike took place in the Powhatan coal fields. 
 Austin was so tired that he could not sleep upon 
 the sleeping car going home. Pie pulled up the 
 shades of his section and watched the great moun 
 tains that seemed, with the train s motion, to go 
 slowly by. He felt that he had been right in what 
 he had done. He only wished that he could talk it 
 over with Mary Ravenel. But alas ! he might never 
 more talk any question over with Miss Ravenel. He 
 had forfeited the right. Ah, God, if he had known 
 that one could love like this ! 
 
 XLII 
 
 THE house at Ravenel had been somewhat more 
 full than Miss Aylwin had reported it. Be 
 sides Bernard Rhodes and Freddy Wiston, and the 
 Havilands later, and she herself and Miss Brevier, 
 there had been two or three other New York women, 
 to say nothing of Fritz Kollner and a series of young 
 girls from the watch factory, who did not always 
 sleep at the house. But Miss Aylwin was quite with 
 out interest in these. 
 
 At first, Miss Ravenel tried asking the factory 
 girls in twos. But this, she found, did not answer; 
 
 366
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 they would cling to each other like kittens in a basket. 
 They were not so much afraid of the women (for 
 they had known Miss Ravenel), but very much afraid 
 of the men, and insisted upon not forgetting that 
 Kollner was their overseer. It is true, they were 
 only partly Americans ; all had some Swiss or Ger 
 man in their descent. On the other hand, the New 
 York girls were quite easy with Rhodes and Freddy 
 Wiston, but very much afraid of Mrs Warfield and 
 Miss Brevier, even a little admiringly awful of their 
 hostess. For Miss Ravenel had not, purposely, in 
 vited any from the dozen of her tried lieutenants, 
 young women she had worked with for years, whose 
 characters were formed, whose standards were high 
 they quite understood this, and were not jealous. 
 " We have you in the winter," said one of them when 
 she explained it to them but she had chosen guests 
 among the young women who attracted her atten 
 tion in stores, in dressmakers shops, in salaried 
 positions. They were not, as a rule, in her classes, 
 nor yet interested in settlement work ; indeed, Miss 
 Ravenel had to use some ingenuity to get the invita 
 tions naturally to them. Far from being the " most 
 deserving," or even " the poor," they were girls, 
 rather, who belonged to the discontented beauty type, 
 whose career might yet be said to present a doubtful 
 horoscope ; they were all earning good wages and all 
 
 367
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 young. For the young hostess frankly recognized 
 that there was nothing, or nothing of this sort, to be 
 done with the woman who had turned thirty, or even 
 twenty-five. And the one hopeless class, she had dis 
 covered, either to work upon or to work for others, 
 was, sad to say, the idle middle-class young woman 
 who lived at home and had pocket money ; while to 
 the poor, of course, it was useless to present this side 
 of life. 
 
 For Mary Ravenel s possibly Quixotic object 
 was to mingle different social classes: not so much 
 that they might copy, as that they might compre 
 hend, each other. She did not see, in a democracy, 
 why there should not be a common meeting ground. 
 Even in the Florentine republic, even in Provencal 
 life those two wonderful civilizations of the so- 
 called darker ages, the one material, the other spirit 
 ual, from either of which, however, all that we have 
 of art and beauty, of culture and manners, takes its 
 modern birth-- even Florence and Provence were 
 socially democratic ; classes understood one another ; 
 knights and burghers, artists and artisans, lived and 
 worked together, with common aims and common 
 lofty culture. The lord, the knight, protected, pat 
 ronized ; while the gildsmith or the artist wrought 
 his masterpiece, the troubadour his song or poem. 
 But modern New York classes, if they touch at all, 
 
 368
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 touch in their lowest tastes, horse racing or brutal 
 izing sport. If we had a Michael Angelo, he would 
 be unknown of the many ; if we had a Dante, he would 
 sing for " a privileged class " the very statement 
 shows its ludicrous impossibility. There can be no 
 Dantes, there can be no Michael Angelos, hardly even 
 a Luca della Robbia or an Arnaud Daniel, until we 
 come together again and Arnaud, a pretty peasant 
 boy, be bred a page at the court of an Ermengardc 
 of Narbonne or the modern Medici have served his 
 apprenticeship at some fine handicraft. So at least 
 dreamed Miss Ravenel; John Haviland would sigh a 
 little, when he came down there on his visit and listened 
 to these views of hers very gently though. " By 
 all means, try. But I fear you forget the modern 
 proletariat. They had no proletariat in Florence 
 and Provence, for they had no machinery. All handi 
 craft is refining labor, may in any age become an art ; 
 machinery breeds the proletariat. And they had 
 no class corresponding to our operatives, our sales 
 women ; they made fine things for themselves with 
 hand and eye, not cheap cotton for the Asiatic 
 millions on a power loom, nor did they forge crass 
 iron for ugly railings or Krupp guns. And even 
 the selling of an object, into the making of which 
 the maker s heart and soul has entered the more 
 so if the seller was the very maker has the inspi- 
 
 369
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 ration of personal relation, human appreciation. 
 They had no department stores. They had no 
 hives of machinery, turning human souls into ma 
 chines, turning them out at the evening whistle 
 tired with the very tedium, the soullessness of it, too 
 jaded for all but the red pepper of pleasure, liquor, 
 sensuous enjoyment, gambling on the races." But 
 Mary would not let herself be discouraged. 
 
 " If there are other people and we know there 
 are leading higher lives, with higher pleasures, 
 should we not show them to them? No, you know 
 I don t mean Browning readings or Kreutzer sona 
 tas, or even pictures or books, but all the gentler life, 
 the indefinable totality of the life a lady any lady 
 may lead. They need not be rich for that. To 
 be sure, they must get into the country now and then, 
 and care more for books and music and less for mati 
 nees, and they must see gentlefolk until they can 
 notice what is gentle." 
 
 " I have a new recruit for you," John had said. 
 " Mamie Rastacq, she would be a drawing card." 
 
 "Mrs Rastacq!" 
 
 " She has fallen in love with you, it appears. 
 Have you seen her much? She is quite in earnest. 
 And, do you know, I am by no means sure she would 
 do it badly. She is a lady in spite of all. And she 
 is full of intelligence and a certain charm. She quite 
 
 370
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 pleaded with me for an invitation said she would 
 wear only her simplest dresses." 
 
 " As far as that goes, nothing would be too 
 good," said Miss Ravenel indignantly. " Everyone 
 is to come as he naturally is, without condescension 
 of any kind." 
 
 " Mamie is quite too clever to condescend, except 
 that she may stoop to conquer some of your young 
 men. Don t you, by the way, find the young men 
 rather difficult?" 
 
 " Well," said Miss Ravenel, " I haven t asked any 
 young men, except, of course, Fritz Kollner. You 
 see, I m working among girls, and I don t know the 
 corresponding men. I did try one, a salesman I had 
 known in a Baltimore store for many years, and he 
 was quite impossible. I mean, he posed. Then I 
 asked Miss Aylwin to find me some, and she said she 
 didn t know any. After all, I m not trying to ele 
 vate young men ! " The girl laughed. 
 
 " The development should be even," said John 
 demurely. " But about poor Mamie," persisted 
 Haviland. " She hasn t got to the stage of good 
 works, but she s not without faith. In you, at all 
 events. Poor Grace could never influence her per 
 haps she was so near her age. Where did you know 
 her?" 
 
 " And I m ten years younger ! As if I could in- 
 371
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 fluence a Mrs Antoine Rastacq ! " said Mary, blush 
 ing. " Oh, I have met her several times now I 
 remember, she did say something about industrial 
 schools or rather the possibility of a big private 
 day and evening school, in housekeeping, cooking, 
 the minor arts of life it was at Mrs Gower s dinner." 
 
 "How did Freddy get on?" 
 
 " Mr Wiston was a dear they all adored him 
 the New York women told me, all of them sepa 
 rately, that they knew he was a * real swell and had 
 no idea such a one could be so nice ! " 
 
 "And Mr Rhodes?" 
 
 " Well, they liked him, but not quite so well. He 
 was too fond of trying psychological experiments. 
 You know, Mrs Bernard could not come ; still, he 
 was very good. To do the girls justice, they came 
 with the possibility of a flirtation still less, an en 
 gagement almost too carefully put out of their 
 minds. It was not quite natural. Had any of the 
 men proposed, I am sure the answer would have been, 
 Sir, you forget yourself ! 
 
 " That is not quite natural," twinkled John. 
 
 " You know they understood the nature of the 
 experiment as well as I did. They were fully in 
 formed that there was a difference in our social posi 
 tions ; what the differences were, they were left to 
 find out for themselves. Yet nothing would induce 
 
 372
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 them to believe that my Baltimore friend was a gen 
 tleman or that Mr Wiston wasn t, though the one 
 was stiff as a poker and Freddy made almost a buf 
 foon . of himself trying to amuse them ! But they 
 were all the more terribly conscious of their several 
 stations in life ! " 
 
 " I see the difficulty of getting a proper reaction 
 from self-conscious elements," laughed John. " It 
 is social chemistry you are trying. It needs great 
 heat. That, I suppose, was the ardent Dr Rhodes s 
 excuse 
 
 " I haven t told you anything about Dr Rhodes ? " 
 said Miss Ravenel in some dismay. 
 
 " No, but your grandmother has. She said she 
 had to ask him how his wife was, one day at 
 breakfast." 
 
 " You may laugh, Mr Haviland, but I don t see 
 why such meetings of different social classes should 
 not lead to marriage ! I think the last thing to con 
 sider is equality of fortune. There should be dis 
 parity of wealth the rich should wed the poor 
 and if different social classes came together, it would 
 humanize society as a whole." 
 
 " You have a very beautiful hat on, Miss Rave 
 nel," said John. 
 
 " I am sure, I wish Miss Aylwin could have mar 
 ried Fritz Kollner," insisted the girl. " He was 
 
 373
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 painfully in love with her. But she would not look 
 at him. She would not even let it be known that she 
 had been a typewriter, and all the women even the 
 New York working girls took her for a lady," 
 " How did you come to know her ? " 
 " I met her on the train. She has promised to 
 teach for me that is, to take a Sunday-school class 
 she says she cannot teach anything else. She is a 
 churchwoman. But she is rather a puzzle to me. 
 However, she is very nice about the Laurel Run girls. 
 She showed them how to make over their gowns. 
 Laurel Run, you must know, is the name of the watch 
 factory. She had one or two beautiful dresses her 
 self." 
 
 " Did the watch girls wear dinner dresses ? " 
 " I did not want them to look different from the 
 others, and they didn t either after the first day. 
 They all had white muslins, and Miss Aylwin cut 
 out the low necks. They sat that night there were 
 two of them next Mr Wiston and Kollner, and 
 it was pretty to see how afraid they were of each 
 other." 
 
 " Freddy is a little, gentleman," said John. 
 
 " He said their modesty was infectious. He 
 
 didn t dare take his eyes off his plate ! Then they 
 
 looked at my grandmother, and Miss Brevier my 
 
 grandmother wore her old white lace, only no dia- 
 
 374
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 monds. We drew the line at diamonds pretty dresses 
 they could have themselves." 
 
 " You must ask Mamie Rastacq. But I don t see 
 how low-cut gowns represent the higher life 
 
 " Not the higher life," frowned the girl. " Only 
 life as it is. We mustn t disguise anything that we 
 do. They will teach us, if it is a wrong. So, I had 
 wine at dinner. Some of the men had never seen wine 
 in a decent place. We should lead no one into tempta 
 tion ; but everyone must learn to resist it." 
 
 " I am sure they are the better for the visit," John 
 ended gravely. 
 
 " And they have all promised to help in my classes 
 next year ! " laughed Miss Ravenel, the woman that 
 was ever present in this young person giving place 
 to the girl again. " And the best of the Laurel Run 
 girls are to get up classes in housekeeping during 
 my absence in the winter." 
 
 Mary thought sometimes of asking Austin Pinck- 
 ney for her next house party why not? She had 
 asked his partner, David Radnor. So quickly a 
 woman with a soul like hers adapts herself to the pos 
 sibilities of good in all her life s experiences ! She 
 thought that she would have done so, had she known 
 Mrs Pinckney at all. In the next winter, she made 
 occasion to meet Austin s wife yet even then she 
 did not. How poor Austin, had he known it, would 
 
 375
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 have had his heart lightened, that terrible summer! 
 He never heard from her. He was sure that he should 
 never hear from her again. He used to go the houses 
 where he knew the people knew her, in the autumn, as 
 they came back to town ; he would talk assiduously 
 to the very dullest of their common acquaintances, 
 full of yearning hope that there might be some men 
 tion of her name. Yet in October, when Miss Ravenel 
 went to stay with the Havilands at Garrison s on the 
 Hudson, John came up from town one night, annoyed 
 that he had not even persuaded Pinckney to come up 
 and pass a night. 
 
 " He d be just the man for one of your experi 
 mental house parties," said the unsuspecting John. 
 
 It was not until late that winter that she saw him 
 again, at a casual dinner party, at the Ralstons , dull 
 rich people, but very helpful to her in her charities. 
 She did not speak to him, but as she drew aside to 
 let him pass before (he was taking Mrs Ralston in) 
 she saw that his face was quite white. He only bowed : 
 she had expected him to shake hands. And after 
 dinner the girl in her gained the upper hand and she 
 made pretext of a concert and " went on." 
 
 376
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 XLIII 
 
 MEANTIME our hero, when returned from 
 West Virginia, had found the affairs of 
 the striking miners already forgotten in the extraor 
 dinary events that had been happening in Wall 
 Street. That Mr Phineas W. Tamms had been com 
 pelled to make an assignment he was aware ; that 
 Mr Augustus Markoff would be his assignee he had 
 suspected ; but that his affairs not to say his hash 
 should be so speedily settled that the newspapers 
 should already be advertising Markoff s fee was a 
 surprise even to a fellow-student familiar with that 
 gentleman s nimble wits. He read, in the Evening 
 Mail : 
 
 " Largest lawyer s fee on record. It is reported 
 that Augustus Markoff, whose success in extricating 
 Phineas W. Tamms from his late embarrassments has 
 amazed and dazzled Wall Street, has been tendered the 
 sum of $250,000 for his services." 
 
 And more surprising still: 
 
 " Lease of the Allegheny Central. It is rumored 
 that the Allegheny Central, whose recent skyrocket 
 ing performances have puzzled the Street, has been 
 leased to the Allegheny Pacific on a guaranty of ten 
 per cent." 
 
 25 377
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 The bunghole lease the barrel ! And ten per cent 
 instead of six ! The audacity of the thing amazed 
 him. Its charter forbade it to pay more than six per 
 cent, or the State could step in and take the road: 
 for it had been built in the days when railroads were 
 first chartered and public ownership was thought a 
 possibility. The road itself could only divide six, 
 but Austin could easily see how a sharp lawyer could 
 devise a scheme by which its stock could be sold, leased, 
 or "trusted" to a corporation of another State which 
 might, directly or indirectly, give a higher return. 
 But who had done it? He had left their people in 
 control, and Mr Gresham was not likely to have ad 
 vised handing it over, for any consideration, to the 
 Allegheny Pacific. So he had gone to the office, and 
 been immediately called in consultation with the two 
 seniors. Mr T. Levison Gower was there, asking what 
 he should do with his wife s stock. 
 
 " I see nothing whatever but to take their ten 
 per cent, as long as they can pay it or sell," Mr 
 Gresham was saying. " And if you didn t sell at a 
 thousand, you d hardly sell at present prices. These 
 show that people haven t much confidence in his 
 management." 
 
 " Whose management? " asked Austin. 
 
 " Markoff s. But perhaps you can tell us some 
 thing more. What do they say in Baltimore? " 
 
 378
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " I haven t been to Baltimore since the day after 
 the special meeting. Then it was to be arranged that 
 the new preferred stock was to be canceled, the at 
 tempted lease of the Pacific to the Central called off, 
 and under your instructions I took over one or two 
 of Tamms s large loans for the Miners Bank 
 enough, I understood, to render Tamms s control 
 improbable. Then I saw that Tamms had failed." 
 
 " Oh, yes," grumbled Radnor, " Tamms is over 
 board. Gresham got his wish. He didn t go to 
 Dannemora jail, but he did worse he put himself 
 unreservedly in Markoff s hands. Markoff paid his 
 debts in full and saved his reputation. The old man 
 had no use for that. The grateful creditors are 
 giving Markoff a quarter million. Tamms is in a 
 sanatorium. That is because Markoff personally 
 shouldered his bad debts. The good ones were sold 
 out." 
 
 "But," said Austin, "I still don t see didn t 
 Markoff keep his promises? " 
 
 " Every one of them. The preferred stock was 
 canceled. That ruined Tamms. His loans which 
 had Central collateral were sold out somebody 
 bought them. Somebody called and took up our 
 Miners Bank loans, paid principal and interest. The 
 bank couldn t refuse. Somebody got short of Alle 
 gheny Pacific and then long of Allegheny Central. 
 
 379
 
 But your Markoff is a man of his word. Instead of 
 leasing the Allegheny Pacific to the Allegheny Cen 
 tral, he has leased the Allegheny Central to the Alle 
 gheny Pacific. All his promises were performed. 
 But you made some promise in return, I think? " 
 
 " I promised him a week s grace and secrecy 
 you approved by telegram." 
 
 " Perfectly true. But in that week Tamms had 
 to fail, and it is possible mind you, I do not say 
 I know, but this is a free country and a man can buy 
 or sell as he chooses it is just possible that Mr 
 Markoff, on his own account, was buying some Alle 
 gheny Central stock. At all events, Tamms has gone 
 to a sanatorium, and Markoff has privately intimated 
 that he hopes we will remain as counsel for the Alle 
 gheny Central Railroad." 
 
 " Damn his soul ! " murmured Mr Radnor, as 
 Mr Gresham ended. 
 
 " That s none of our business," interposed the 
 sensible Lucie. " I can only say I hope you will 
 be counsel, sir. It is your duty " 
 
 " I rather incline to think so myself. Moreover, 
 now that he can afford to, I suspect Mr Markoff 
 means to be honest. I intend so to advise him." 
 
 Lucie laughed. " To think I had the man at my 
 house last summer ! I saw he was bound to get on 
 my wife has an instinct at discovering geniuses. 
 
 380
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 I suppose he ll have a house of his own now. Coming 
 uptown, Pinckney? " 
 
 " I think I will I am rather tired." 
 
 " Your wife, I know, is at Newport. So you 
 have taken the Ambrosini cottage for the summer? " 
 
 Austin did not know it, but it was not the first 
 time he had to pretend to a knowledge of his wife s 
 affairs. He was anxious to get back even to the 
 empty house. He did not know why. His wife 
 always wrote to the office. 
 
 " I am dining alone myself," said Gower, as the 
 brougham rolled off noiselessly. " Won t you come 
 with me? I ll drop you at your house, if you must 
 change." 
 
 " I if I may let you know when I get there," 
 said Austin. " There may be some message for me." 
 
 On the hall table was the usual heap of bills and 
 business circulars ; nothing else ; it was late in June ; 
 nothing else. Oh, yes, there was a telegram it was 
 from Dorothy, begging him to come to Newport at 
 once, " matter of importance to Daisy." He ran 
 back to the carriage where Lucie was placidly wait 
 ing, puffing at a large cigar. That honest gentle 
 man had always had a quiet conscience, and at fifty 
 his digestion was unimpaired. 
 
 " I have had a message from my wife. I must 
 go to Newport." 
 
 381
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " Well, you can t go till twelve o clock ; you may 
 as well dine with me as anywhere. You needn t dress ; 
 we shall be quite alone, and the house is in brown 
 hollands." 
 
 There was something friendly about this man. 
 As they sat in the palatial dining hall, Austin reflected 
 on the contrast between it and his last week s sur 
 roundings. He would like to bring Zappi there. 
 He wondered if the broad-shouldered engineer would 
 still want his three plates of ice cream. He ventured 
 to tell Gower a little about the strike, and found a 
 sympathetic listener. 
 
 Coming home at ten, he had the curiosity to re 
 turn by way of the Havilands . Their house was 
 closed and dark. Wandering down the hill, he looked 
 down the cross street where was Miss Ravenel s apart 
 ment ; it all looked dark. Of course he did not know 
 her window ; probably she had gone home to Ravenel. 
 Then he pulled himself together for an idle fool and 
 went home to pack his grip. 
 
 Well, why shouldn t he go on loving her ? Dorothy 
 missed nothing. Other men before him had had their 
 private shrine other men, well working in the world, 
 their secret consecration. If he might worship her in 
 his heart, he might endure the sightless eyes. Surely, 
 it could do her no harm. He wished that she might 
 marry some good man. Who was there good enough? 
 
 382
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 It was a marvel that men, free men, could live in the 
 world and not be at her feet. She promised for 
 she was slow in maturing to be still more beautiful. 
 Would men see it then ? No, he wished that she might 
 never marry ; he wished she had been plain, unnoticed 
 always, for he had loved her just as much. 
 
 The last was the thought of his feverish dawn, 
 the hour when the heart is slow, the half -dreaming 
 hour when all one s acquired nature seems to go, all 
 built-up rules of conduct melt away. Then came the 
 full day, and the brave sea air, as he paced the deck 
 of the little steamboat. Dorothy, at the pretentious 
 " cottage," was waiting breakfast for him. She gave 
 him no other greeting than to plunge at once into 
 business. 
 
 " Mama has telegraphed me that Daisy must 
 be married this summer, and she wants it in our 
 house." 
 
 "Married? Whom to?" 
 
 " Puzzi, of course. You know they ve been at 
 Rome. It seems Puzzi was there. But she doesn t 
 want the marriage there, and it can t be in Phila 
 delphia in August. She hopes we ve got a house. 
 So I thought of the Ambrosini villa. You know, it s 
 always to let." 
 
 "Can we afford it?" 
 
 " What nonsense ! I suppose mama ll chip in 
 383
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 something. But then she s got to get the trousseau, 
 and I ve no doubt he s asked for a settlement. Those 
 Italians always do. He s not getting married at 
 Camden Anyhow I suppose mama feels she must 
 make the best of it, and this is the place to do it. A 
 marquis counts, in Newport. The rent is only three 
 thousand. I see your friend Markoff has made lots 
 of money. You were in that railroad business, too. 
 Haven t you made anything? " 
 
 . " I am only a lawyer. I get my share of the firm s 
 earnings 
 
 " Well, you ought to ask for more. Markoff has 
 actually hired one of the Duval houses, and Mrs 
 Rastacq has asked him to dinner." 
 
 " You ought to have married him," said Austin 
 bitterly. 
 
 " Well, he made love to me at Cambridge Her 
 husband s blank look of horror quelled for a moment 
 her impetuosity. She changed the subject to the 
 wedding and the guests. 
 
 " You are right there need be no trouble about 
 money," said Austin at the end of the conversation. 
 
 Pinckney went through that summer with a sense 
 of personal degradation. It was degrading to have 
 to give away his sister-in-law to an ape like Puzzi. 
 But for the poor girl s sake it had to be done. Cer 
 tain business affairs, which, for very protection, he 
 
 384
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 had pass through his hands, made it all the harder. 
 There was a woman to be bought off, a blackmailer 
 to be frightened. And Austin could not tell the girl 
 all he heard about her noble husband. She arrived, 
 with her mother, only a week before the ceremony. 
 Even Mrs Somers was for a moment shaken ; the 
 Major had sought out Austin at the New York Club 
 one day and told him what all Paris knew of Puzzi s 
 past ; at his request she said something of it to her 
 daughter. She answered that she did not care so 
 long as he had not cheated at cards. 
 
 Austin stayed as little as he could at Newport. 
 The festivities over, he went into the Maine woods 
 on a hunting trip. Settled in the city for the autumn, 
 he tried to lose himself in hard work. Dorothy had 
 begun her usual round of autumn visits ; Mrs Somers 
 had sold her Philadelphia house and gone to live 
 in Paris. Puzzi s drafts were usually dated from 
 Monte Carlo. 
 
 From one thing only, that dreadful season, did 
 Austin derive a little pleasure it was a letter con 
 taining the announcement that " at the request of 
 Powhatan Post, No. 11,262, he had been elected an 
 honorary member of the American Labor League." 
 He remembered sadly how he had planned that way 
 of working with Mary Ravenel. Well, he would have 
 to carry out the work alone. 
 
 385
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Still, when November came, he began to watch 
 for her. He would walk uptown by Rivington Street. 
 He frequented the Columbian Club even if he met 
 her father, he might speak of her. But that gentle 
 man never appeared ; finally one day he asked the 
 Major about him and heard for the first time 
 of his marriage. Then John Haviland had told 
 him of her visit at Garrison s and he had not 
 dared to accept his invitation. He must first know 
 whether she wanted to avoid him. Her will must 
 be done. 
 
 Then had come that dinner at the Ralstons . His 
 wife had wanted to go, and he always went with her 
 when she asked him. They arrived late, and the room 
 was full ; suddenly it swam before him ; he became con 
 scious of her presence in the farther corner. He was 
 sent in immediately, with the hostess. Passing by 
 him, she bowed ; he had hoped it was so long since 
 they had met they might have shaken hands. Her 
 face was very white. 
 
 At dinner she was some distance away, but he 
 could steal a glance occasionally. She was as beau 
 tiful as an angel, but she looked still pale. Could she 
 be ill? He longed for the moment to come, after 
 dinner 
 
 The men were forever over their cigars. Would 
 old Ralston never make the move? Coming into the 
 
 386
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 drawing-room, one sweep of his eyes told him that 
 they were too late. Miss Ravenel had gone. She 
 had avoided him. 
 
 XLIV 
 
 WHEN Beatrice denied to him her salutation, 
 Dante wrote a poem which made the world 
 her debtor. Poor Austin could not do this he had 
 no right, of this unmarried girl, to claim even the 
 courtesy of a bow. But now, his soul beat out its 
 wings against the bars. He could not live without it 
 he could not live, he could not go on living. True, 
 a fragment of a poem crossed his mind it was a little 
 verse of St. Ursula : 
 
 " St. Ursula, upon her path to heaven 
 Once met a pilgrim lying on her way " 
 
 How did the verse go on? 
 
 " His limbs 
 
 Were in the dust, and on his breast was blood. 
 He craved a cup of water " 
 
 Surely, her salutation, her speaking to him, as she 
 might to the meanest of humanity, when they met 
 it was not his fault that they met was but as the 
 cup of water to him! 
 
 387
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " Ursula 
 
 Drew back lest she should soil her robe, went on 
 Her way to heaven and was sainted there 
 But all the damned of hell cry out at her." 
 
 Was he of the damned? Was this what happened 
 to men when they went lost? God knows, he would 
 not have soiled her robe no, nor touched it even 
 but now, he could not go on. Yet still, though she 
 held him in horror, his heart would not believe his 
 love was evil. His mind could put the thing in plain 
 est words pursuit were despicable, even voiceless 
 love a sin and his heart would not credit it. What 
 world was this he was living in? And why had he 
 not sooner been a man? So raged his thoughts as 
 he took his way home on foot ; Dorothy had gone 
 on to the first great ball of the winter ; he, for once, 
 had bluntly refused. The night was very cold, the 
 rain freezing on the sidewalk as it fell. 
 
 She scorned him, condemned him, that was clear. 
 Yet what had he ever told her? and perhaps, were 
 he to tell her, she might have pity. The spoken 
 word, indeed, had been an insult ; yet she could not, 
 more plainly, have cast him from her. She had even 
 fled from him at Ravenel; it was clear now that the 
 letter had been but an excuse. 
 
 He crossed the street, and Madison Square, to 
 lower Fifth Avenue. A young girl, as he passed the 
 
 388
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 shadow of a higher building, mutely accosted him; 
 whatever she may have meant to say died upon her 
 lips, but she stood in his way. With a sense of sud 
 den shock he saw her face, how white and fair it was ; 
 her slender figure, still, on this December night, clad 
 in a shirt waist; she shivered with the cold as he 
 looked at her. 
 
 " Poor child," he said, " are you hungry? " 
 It needed not her faint Yes to tell him so. What 
 could he do? He could give her money. She had 
 turned to walk with him ; they were passing by an 
 all-night chop house with lighted windows. He 
 passed a bill into her little hands and asked her to 
 go in and buy herself what she wanted. Very shyly, 
 she answered that they would not let her in alone. 
 Well, what did it matter. He need not shrink from 
 the dust of the road. He went in with her. Some 
 other women, and men, were there ; Austin observed 
 that the young girl did not seem to know them, nor 
 they her. They stared at her, even curiously, as if 
 she did not belong there. Hot soups and chops were 
 brought for the girl; for Austin, glass after glass 
 of whisky. This, after all, was what men did. The 
 girl looked at him anxiously. She was pitiably fair. 
 She told him she was out of work, with a dying father ; 
 but somehow he felt that the usual tale might be the 
 truth. 
 
 389
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 When she had eaten, they hastened out, and 
 coming into the cold, Austin ordered a cab. " Tell 
 the driver your address, after I am gone " There 
 was no use preaching a sermon ; he only pressed a 
 small roll of bills into her hand. " And do buy 
 yourself a coat." He would at least try to save 
 another soul that night ; he was not too worth 
 less to do that ; the rest must be with God. If 
 he could not preach to her, he had done her no 
 harm. 
 
 " I cannot take this Are you going to leave 
 me? " But this time the poor child said it with a 
 blush. Some impulse of pity made Austin say : 
 
 " My child If you loved anyone, you would 
 not ask me The girl looked up at him frankly, 
 like a friend and yet in wonder. 
 
 " Here," he said, handing her a card on which 
 he had written the address of one of John s agencies. 
 " Go there to-morrow, and perhaps they can find 
 you work " But the girl was now looking at him 
 wistfully. He turned his face away. " Remember 
 your promise to get a coat." 
 
 " I am so sorry," she only said. And somehow 
 the note of compassion, even in the poor outcast s 
 voice, for the first time broke Austin down. 
 
 But going home, he grasped a decanter of whisky 
 and drank a tumblerful. " I cannot get drunk," he 
 
 390
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 thought. " That is what men do. Why cannot I 
 get drunk?" He smoked and tried to read. He 
 drank again. Finally, at four or five, he went to his 
 room, rather by way of avoiding Dorothy than with 
 any desire for sleep. 
 
 Austin s soul, perhaps, was very nigh to founder 
 ing that night. Yet withal it may be doubted whether 
 his soul was so nearly lost in all its sorrow as in the 
 pleasure, the frivolities, the surface joys of those 
 years before at Newport which had culminated in the 
 satin walls of Mamie Rastacq s cottage. 
 
 And he felt no shame in the morning. Surely 
 not for his hour with the poor outcast ; hardly even 
 for his drunkenness. He had tried it as men try a 
 drug, and proved it idle. He walked downtown and 
 went to work. In the afternoon he had the curiosity 
 to call at John s or rather Mrs Haviland s rescue 
 agency. And hardly to his surprise, but much to 
 his gladness he found that the young woman had 
 really called ; moreover, that the matron, for once in 
 a hundred times, had been persuaded that her story 
 was genuine. He did not ask her name, nor whither 
 they had sent her. Somehow he felt, in his own de 
 spair, there might be more danger for him in the com 
 pany of this poor girl than in any Mamie Rastacq s 
 challenges. Our hero was no Dominic the Spaniard 
 sainted for virginity, who founded the Inquisition 
 
 391
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 the chaste, only, can be so cruel, the Puritan so fa 
 natic. He was only a man, and just now caring noth 
 ing for his own soul, but having yet " the infinite 
 compassion of the pure." 
 
 But so perhaps for a week or two his life was 
 left to tremble in the balance. And then one day his 
 wife wanted him to go to the Monday Club ; it was 
 to meet in the great palace of an Ohio millionaire, 
 and the lion of the occasion, by an incongruity not 
 unusual in New York, the Russian Nihilist prince, 
 Koprine. Dorothy cared nothing about the Nihilist, 
 except when he told stories of his life when, as a boy, 
 he had been page to the Czar, but she did care about 
 the dancing that followed after supper. Austin knew 
 Koprine ; and after his address the latter sought him 
 out and engaged him in conversation, regardless 
 of the queue of fluttering fair the hostess was mar 
 shaling to present to him. 
 
 " Who is that handsome man with a jaw like a 
 pirate monopolizing my prince? You ought to know, 
 Miss Ravenel you know all the queer people. Not 
 Dorothy s husband? Well, well." 
 
 Austin looked up and saw her behind his hostess, 
 with Grace. She was evidently going to be presented 
 by their hostess to Koprine. He stood aside from the 
 big Russian, who had by this time risen, and watched 
 her. But it was Grace who spoke to Koprine ; Miss 
 
 392
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Ravenel turned to Pinckney and stretched out her 
 hand frankly. 
 
 " Why did you not speak to me the other night ? " 
 
 " It is not my world," said Austin Pinckney 
 slowly. 
 
 " It is mine " 
 
 The dancing was beginning; a boy came and 
 claimed her ; he watched them dance. He would not 
 have danced with her for worlds. But he still stood 
 there, watching them 
 
 The youth appeared to think that she belonged 
 to him, and so came back, after five minutes, and 
 left her, where Austin was standing, watching. She 
 was now all aflush ; she had been pale before. 
 
 " It is very hot " 
 
 " Come into the other room. Shall I get some 
 water? " 
 
 " If you please. I will wait here, in the win 
 dow." 
 
 Austin got a goblet of water and returned. 
 
 "Why did you not get yourself some?" 
 
 " I did not stop to get another glass." 
 
 " Why have you not been to see me ? I have been 
 staying at Gracie s 
 
 " I was afraid you would not be at home." There 
 was almost a little gasp in his voice ; the woman, now 
 suddenly, looked at him. 
 
 26 393
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " I should like to talk to you about Laurel Run 
 the Watch Trust is worse than ever. But you 
 look tired to-night don t you want to get yourself 
 some champagne ? " 
 
 " Only a little water," said Austin, his lips dry. 
 
 " Here, take this," said Miss Ravenel impulsively. 
 The room, for a moment, to Austin swam. Then he 
 took the glass she had but touched it and drank 
 of the water slowly. 
 
 Coming home, he could only say to himself, St. 
 Ursula St. Ursula. But oh, thank God, thank God ! 
 How nobly she had done it ! What miracle had led 
 her to the simple action? She had seen, somehow, 
 that he, too, that night, must be saved. 
 
 XLV 
 
 THAT was the winter of the first great effort 
 to uplift New York City politics ; and it was 
 his speeches in this campaign that first brought 
 Pinckney to the public attention. There was a vigor 
 and vitality about them, an ideality combined with 
 practical good sense, that few men, of the side the Sun 
 called " academes," could show. They excited but a 
 languid interest in Dorothy, however. Even when a 
 sympathetic friend pointed out it was Markoff him- 
 
 394
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 self that politics might lead to Washington and an 
 ambassadorship, Dorothy only shrugged her snowy 
 shoulders. Markoff was quite free to loose his ad 
 miration on her now. In fact, Dorothy had discov 
 ered a fascinating revenge in making him want to kiss 
 her again ; better than cutting him. Moreover, Mark- 
 off was decidedly a man to know. His house parties 
 were distinctly, that year, the thing. And he had 
 never asked her. The new game, bridge, had come 
 in vogue imported from Constantinople and it 
 was said that ladies, at his house, played for money. 
 Dorothy thought it would be delicious to play for 
 real money. She shrugged her shoulders, and put 
 one hand up to the bow she had disarranged; the 
 Hebrew followed her gloved hand with his warm 
 brown eyes. 
 
 " I should hate to live in Washington," she said. 
 " New York is good enough for me. And an am 
 bassadorship costs money 
 
 " Oh," laughed Markoff, " not if you are a 
 reformer ! " 
 
 " I mean, you must have the money to spend. In 
 London, even in Rome or Paris, you are ridiculous 
 under fifty thousand a year." 
 
 " A hundred is better 
 
 " A hundred is better and you ve got it but 
 poor Austin will never be rich." 
 
 395
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " He s got a wife though there must be an am 
 bassadress 
 
 Dorothy, looking at him, wondered just how far 
 it would be fun to let him go. Well, she wanted the 
 invitation. . . . 
 
 Meantime, Miss Ravenel had made Dorothy s 
 acquaintance. First, at a woman s lunch, she had 
 found herself next her ; she had drawn her aside and 
 tried to interest her in the " social intercourse plan " 
 as John used laughingly to term their idea of 
 teaching the working classes how to have a society. 
 But Dorothy had shown not the slightest interest in 
 the condition of any classes but their own. " Why 
 don t you speak to Austin about it?" Dorothy 
 laughed (Miss Ravenel had begun by telling Dorothy 
 that she knew her husband) ; " he s always mulling 
 about the slums and the condition of the people. I 
 believe they have just as good a time as we do; if 
 they don t, it s their own fault." But Mary could 
 not believe that there was not more in her than this, 
 and would not give over. 
 
 Perhaps, correlative to Austin s ecstasy, Miss 
 Ravenel had had some moments of trepidation after 
 their last interview. She had resolutely dismissed 
 them, however. She was trying hard enough (per 
 haps unconsciously) not to see his love; but it was 
 that reality which made her so sure that Austin would 
 
 396
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 acquit her of anything but friendliness. She had 
 been sorry for him ; she desired to be a friend to him ; 
 so, womanlike, she began upon his wife. 
 
 There is a story of a miner who, in Mexico, ex 
 ploring an old abandoned mine, tapping the walls 
 to find the hidden water, found nothing but the dull 
 note of earth, until, at the very last, a different sound 
 invited more careful search ; the probe went through, 
 an opening was made, and in the secret treasure cham 
 ber, in the dress of three centuries before, heaped 
 up with rubies and with turquoises, an Aztec princess 
 lay as if asleep. Mary, full of faith in other women 
 as she was full of the happiness of life herself, could 
 not believe there was no treasure chamber. One wall 
 after another she tried with Dorothy, but only one 
 door would open, that of the world of " society." 
 Only in one other woman had Miss Ravenel ever been 
 so impressed by this ; and that, strangely enough, was 
 Miss Aylwin ; but in her it was at least ideal ; " so 
 ciety," to her imagination, represented a sort of 
 fairyland. And Mary Ravenel had not given up the 
 quest long since perhaps too soon? abandoned 
 by Austin when, a year later, he told her of his 
 going West. For he had permitted himself one call 
 each winter, and this was the second. Triumphant 
 in that year s work it was the first year of John s 
 election, the second of his own fellowship with human- 
 
 397
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 ity his heart and conscience now at rest, our hero 
 had come in reality, not avowedly to lay his sheaf 
 of leaves at her feet and have her tell him which were 
 leaves of weed and which were laurel leaves. For 
 insensibly, already, to Austin, this woman had come 
 to assay his life. And it was she who had shown him 
 the way into the lives of men. 
 
 Mary was at Miss Brevier s this time, and that 
 old lady, evidently somnolent, was upon the sofa. 
 Yet her presence had made Austin bold to say bold 
 to lay, in his secret allusion, both his past and his 
 future duty, for her to judge. They had again been 
 discussing Dante Austin remembered well enough 
 had she forgotten? their word on the subject at 
 Laurel Run and imperceptibly he had been led to 
 take against himself the side he only had to justify. 
 The talk had led from the Vita Nuova to Dante s 
 future ; to Gemma Donati ; to the real effect of 
 Beatrice on his life. Men and women may together 
 discuss all things to-day ; talk of love, indeed, is usu 
 ally a triviality; neither of them, certainly not Miss 
 Ravenel, was in the least self-conscious. 
 
 " No noble love, I am sure, would harm a life," 
 he had been led to say. " No love, I am sure, can be 
 wrong 
 
 " Love may not be wrong ; the telling of it may
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " I do not believe it harmed Beatrice if, indeed, 
 she ever knew of it and Dante surely 
 
 " It is Gemma Donati Dante s wife, the mother 
 of his children who is first to be considered. And 
 even as to Dante himself, I do not feel sure ; do you? " 
 
 It had been on Austin s lips to plead for such 
 love as a consecration ; to argue to her as the poor 
 man had so often done to himself for the flame as 
 almost vestal, to be cherished in holiness, despite 
 fortuitous ties which (after all) were things of human 
 convention if not of the flesh. But he saw into Miss 
 Ravenel s eyes, and found that he could not. Then, 
 too, he had been studying Dante s life, so that her 
 words came to him with a touch of divination. He 
 had read that Dante s love had not lasted even unto 
 Beatrice s death; that he fell in love a second time, 
 with Pargoletta, of Lucca ; even a third time, with 
 a peasant maid of the Alps of Cosentino, hump 
 backed, and by whom he had a child. Others, indeed, 
 say Gentucca, mentioned in the " Purgatorio," was 
 a noble and beautiful maiden of Lucca with whom 
 Dante fell in love during his exile, but Balbi, a Geno 
 ese noble, more charitably : " Nothing is known of 
 this Gentucca ; we will not enter into a discussion of 
 how much she had been loved by Dante and how far he 
 had again been faithless to the memory of Beatrice; 
 let us pass over in silence the consolations or errors 
 
 399
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 of the poor exile." Then, too, Beatrice had left him. 
 " Si tosto come in su la soglia fui di mia seconda 
 etade, e mutai vita, questi si tolse a me, e diessi 
 altrui " 
 
 But still Austin forgot that he was silent, as he 
 looked at her. These words, of the thirtieth canto 
 of the " Purgatorio," where he makes her say " he 
 gave himself to others " were written twenty-four 
 years after Beatrice s death. 
 
 " What are you thinking of? " It was Mary 
 Ravenel who spoke. 
 
 " I am thinking that men are liars," said he. 
 " Did you know, Dante wrote a sirvente introducing 
 the names of sixty of the greatest beauties of Flor 
 ence, that he might, among the sixty, introduce her 
 name? Yet in his sonnet of three stanzas he scrupu 
 lously explains that the second is intended for Miss 
 Portinari, not the other lady. For, on a journey to 
 Bologna, it had occurred to him to take another lady 
 as his schermo, his screen, and when he returned he 
 did so for this cause ; and for this cause, he says in 
 " Vita Nuova," Beatrice denied him her salutation. 
 When he first met Beatrice it was on a May day, 
 1275, in the Cascine gardens; and she was eight and 
 he was nine. If it was a lie, it is a lie that has lasted. 
 But, as Heine says, the kitten lived long and happily 
 for many years ; Beatrice was wed to Mr Simon Bardi 
 
 400
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 in 1287. She died about 1290. Dante began his 
 poem in 1294 ; about 1314 he wrote the four divine 
 cantos. If it were a woman, and her name were 
 Marie Bashkirtseff, we should call it silly, I suppose." 
 
 Miss Ravenel looked up puzzled. But the man 
 had his heart in pincers and was driving red-hot 
 needles through it. 
 
 " Tell me more about Gemma Donati," said Miss 
 Ravenel. 
 
 " Nothing is known about Gemma Donati. Prob 
 ably, she was not a good cook." 
 
 Miss Ravenel rose; and Pinckney rose, contrite. 
 " And so you are going to hunt in the Rockies for 
 your summer. Why don t you take Dorothy with 
 you? " 
 
 " Dorothy ? " He did not know that Miss Ravenel 
 called her by her first name; and indeed to Dorothy 
 she did not ; but she felt then that she had to. 
 
 " I think she would like to go," said Miss Ravenel 
 as she colored a little, but still went on bravely : 
 " Have you asked her? " 
 
 " She likes Newport in the summer, and to be 
 around New York." 
 
 " I think she is getting tired of it." Then, more 
 
 lightly : " It must be an education in itself to be away 
 
 from everything in a tent in the mountains the 
 
 stars only above, the whole continent beneath one." 
 
 27 401
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Austin paced across the room once or twice. 
 Then : " I will I will ask her," said he. Then he 
 spoke, very simply, his heart s desire : " May I write 
 to you?" 
 
 " Why, of course." And the woman could not 
 see that she had made his life worth living. " I shall 
 be managing my boycott all summer. Tell me how 
 Dorothy likes the West." 
 
 "Your boycott?" 
 
 " The Watch Trust s, I mean, at Laurel Run." 
 
 " Oh, I remember." 
 
 So Austin took his leave. 
 
 XLVI 
 
 IP Austin had hoped that contact with life s ele 
 mental conditions would tend to make its com 
 plexities pall upon her, he had reckoned without his 
 Dorothy s temperament. For Dorothy s nature was 
 the perennial we will not say eternal feminine ; the 
 woman Meredith meant when he said she would be the 
 last thing civilized by man ; also, perhaps, the woman 
 who was first cause even of civilization when she bade 
 her lover seek pink shells to tie around her middle 
 and began to decorate her breast in geometrical pat 
 terns in blue woad. It is for such that even in the 
 
 402
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 kitchen-middens of the prehistoric Maine Indians 
 one finds bone combs and toilet articles so adorned; 
 it is not from such that civilization will ever find its 
 cure. The world of 1889 just suited Dorothy as it 
 was ; in the slang of the day she was precisely up to 
 date. Her splendidly healthy body enabled her, by 
 mere vitality, to enjoy the grand air, the riding, the 
 exhilaration of bodily adventure ; she had, too, an 
 appreciation of scenery. But she infinitely preferred 
 corsets and lace underwear to flannels and freedom, 
 a city bedroom to a prairie tent, a porcelain bath 
 to a mountain stream, people to prairies, and cards 
 to the chase. Moreover, the people must be " her 
 sort," people who spoke her language, talked only 
 about each other, and played, with jealous heart 
 burnings, at being " it." It would be hard for us, 
 it would have been hard even for them, to say what 
 " it " was. Dorothy was rapidly coming to the con 
 clusion that " it " was largely money ; certainly one of 
 " its " features was the insolent exclusion of all others 
 from " its " society ; and Dorothy in her time had 
 lived to see the excluded become the excluder Mark- 
 off, for instance and, awful to contemplate, the ex 
 cluder become in turn the excluded. There was Mrs 
 Malgam. Well, Jack Malgam had not been very rich, 
 and " Baby " had grown middle-aged and fat. If 
 you could not have millions of your own, Dorothy 
 
 403
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 clear-sightedly observed, or were not unusually clever, 
 the best anchor was a fashionable love affair ; it would 
 have been well enough if Malgam had not died, but 
 when he had done so, Holyoke had failed to marry 
 her. To be sure, he was ten years younger ; but she 
 had kept him for so long ! And now she committed 
 the blunder of openly running after him. Then, even 
 Arthur Holyoke (as Dorothy phrased it to herself) 
 was not a real swell. The Rastacqs, Duvals, Ein- 
 steins, Gansevoorts, Gonzagas, Marosinis, were the 
 real swells, Dorothy thought ; the beauty of them 
 was, as Salisbury said of the Garter, there was no 
 
 d d merit about them. They cared nothing about 
 
 America nor for being American citizens ; they lived 
 in palaces of European model and moved in private 
 cars and ocean steamers that they called their yachts, 
 from Newport to Aiken or the Riviera, stopping only 
 in New York to cut their coupons ; more secluded 
 from the vulgar, more estranged from their country s 
 people than is any English duke, and by the way they 
 were the only people that could always marry into 
 the English peerage, and not a man of them had ever 
 held a civic, even a charitable, office since first (not 
 usually too long ago) the founder of their fortunes 
 in New York began. 
 
 Austin was dreadfully bored by them. As Carlyle 
 might say, he could not feel that even going in a 
 
 404
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 private car justified, as an end of life, the going from 
 one idle place to another equally empty one cer 
 tainly not the going in another fellow s private car. 
 The great houses were to him the very lair of ennui. 
 No books, only Barbizon pictures ; no music but 
 Broadway ballads and negro melodies composed by 
 theatrical Jews ; no talk but of the sort you needed 
 wade through in galoshes to keep your very feet 
 clean. Why be exclusive when there is so little to 
 include? But exclusion, in America, comes high. 
 If you would avoid the people, you must pay for it. 
 And poor Dorothy could not even yet afford it. 
 Had she married Petrus Gansevoort, she might have 
 had it from the start. 
 
 So one fears that while Austin, expanding his 
 lungs to the grand air, his heart to the great people, 
 of the West, was hopefully scheming how they might 
 yet model their lives on his youthful dreams, Dor 
 othy was scheming to bring hers to a practical reality 
 of a very different order. Even his sanguine re 
 building of their own first married happiness received 
 a shock. " We must dare to be happy and dare to 
 confess it," Miss Ravenel had once said to him. And 
 then, she had quoted Amiel : " To be patient, sympa 
 thetic, tender, to hope always, like God; to love 
 always this is duty." Austin tried to hope; but 
 the light of springtime, even the light that was about 
 
 405
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 them in that Connecticut River trip of ten years ago, 
 had faded from the sky. 
 
 But he dared to be happy. Ah, he dared to be 
 happy. He was " happy in faith." The yearning 
 that had been his so many years the lonely resigna 
 tion to the faith that this was all the suicide of 
 hope, the drugging of dreams, the blinding of eyes 
 poor wistful eyes, " tired with too much seeking 
 of their love on earth " this all was over. No 
 longer had he to shut them to bar out his visions 
 visions of the face i the cloud, the face i the fire 
 the Face was here, here beyond the nearest twilight 
 hill, here and real in every dell of gentle forest. Ah, 
 he was happy that year. I suppose the Puritan in 
 him should have told his conscience that he had no 
 sense of sin ; but the Catholic Carolina Pinckney in 
 him knew that sin this could not be. The world, his 
 heart, his very prayers to Heaven, gave him emotional 
 certitude. He was doing right ; and all was well in 
 the world; surely God would not poison the fount 
 that made him worship God. Yet he did not write 
 to her, he did not need to do that ; it was enough that 
 in her grace she had him given leave. 
 
 And Dorothy, too if the early glamour had been 
 but a morning mist could, in the noontide of life, be 
 a sunny companion. She had never been shrewish or 
 sour: and now, in the free air of the Rockies, with 
 
 406
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 her splendid health, perhaps even a little touched by 
 his renewed devotion she was a most pleasant com 
 panion. It was not, perhaps, the highest human rela 
 tion it was rather as if he were adventuring, in some 
 splendid country, with a merry good fellow or, at 
 most, a pleasing inamorata chance, at their jour 
 ney s end, might or might not sever the relation no 
 hearts at risk on either side. Dorothy dressed, in the 
 daytime, almost like a boy, a Rosalind long soft 
 leather leggings, an open-throated hunting shirt, 
 and (to the bewilderment of the conventionally 
 minded guides) not much of skirt. 
 
 Austin rather had wanted scenery and voyage life 
 than mere hunting ; they had begun in southern Colo 
 rado, worked by the Sangre del Cristo range to the 
 country of northern New Mexico ; heading in a gen 
 eral way for the Grand Canon of the Colorado, whose 
 wonders were then but little known. But one after 
 noon (they always had to begin camp by four 
 o clock), armed, of course, with his Winchester, but 
 otherwise alone (a Winchester is company any 
 sportsman will well know what I mean), he struck 
 the trail of a bear, a grizzly, he suspected not that 
 he could tell from the tracks, but it was, in that 
 country, the most likely kind. The trail led down 
 the mountain, into a little canon, perhaps only some 
 few yards wide at first, and full of raspberry bushes 
 
 407
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 and the fallen, slippery trunks of dead sycamore 
 trees. He could now hear the bear crashing ahead, 
 and Pinckney, with all the impulsiveness of his early 
 youth, followed after. Pretty soon he got a shot, 
 and then another ; but their only effect was slightly 
 to accelerate the creature s speed. Now and then 
 he saw traces of blood upon the bushes which (per 
 haps somewhat inconsequently) encouraged him to 
 go on. The canon was now considerably deeper ; and 
 the bear, as if to escape from it, clambered upon the 
 butt end of a huge sycamore which lay, its branches 
 pointing downward, so high that they appeared to 
 touch the rocky ledge that bounded the canon on its 
 higher side. 
 
 Austin followed, balancing himself upon the 
 peeled and slippery trunk ; this was easy enough at 
 first, but became harder as its volume narrowed. 
 Finally, he had to sit on the tree trunk astride ; the 
 bear, too, seemed to be having trouble and moved 
 slower and slower. Unexpectedly to Austin it 
 stopped; the strong branches, after all, did not 
 reach to the little cliff; and, to Austin s horror, the 
 grizzly began to retrace its steps. Austin, sitting 
 on the trunk some twenty yeards behind, had chosen 
 that moment to reload his Winchester. 
 
 " Stand up ! " called a voice from the wall behind 
 him. Austin stood up, without looking around, and 
 
 408
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 fired hastily at the approaching grizzly. At the 
 same moment he heard a second rifle shot, and the 
 huge creature, clutching a moment convulsively at 
 the brittle, silvery twigs, fell with a heavy crash into 
 the bushes beneath. 
 
 " Hope you ll pardon me intruding," said the 
 stranger, with the usual Western burr to the r, but 
 otherwise in perfect English. " I heard your shots 
 and thought I d see what it was. Though I reckoned 
 there might be a grizzly in the canon, and it ain t 
 exactly a place where two is company and three is 
 none." 
 
 " I am, on the contrary, deeply in your debt. It 
 was your shot killed him ; he was coming on too fast 
 for my inexperience." 
 
 " Oh, I don t know ! " smiled the other. " Any 
 how, you ll forgive my introducing myself too soon. 
 I hate to interfere with any gentleman s shot." (He 
 pronounced the t in gentleman, which is unusual even 
 with the educated Westerner.) "My name s Armi- 
 tage. I call myself at home when I m in Michigan, 
 but it s the country down below there that I ve tied 
 up to." Mr Armitage indicated vaguely a sweep of 
 the horizon that might include anything from the 
 San Cristobal Mountains to the Pecos River. 
 
 W T hen a man has just saved your life from a 
 grizzly, it is customary, even in temperance circles, 
 
 409
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 to invite him to take a drink. Pinckney accordingly 
 did so, declining at the same time his name and 
 qualities. 
 
 "From New York, are you? Well, sir, that 
 comes in quite handy. I was just about wanting to 
 see a man from New York. Take the first drink 
 yourself ; you got a little nearer the b ar than I did." 
 For Austin, climbing downward, had reached the base 
 of the rock on which the other stood. Austin laughed, 
 and half filling the silver cup he drained it ; then 
 handed cup and flask to the other as he scrambled up 
 the scarp of the little cliff. 
 
 " You must come to dinner with us." 
 
 " Perhaps you d like to have me help you skin 
 that there grizzly." 
 
 " I certainly should, particularly as I don t know 
 how; my wife, I am sure, would like to have it, if 
 you d give me your share 
 
 " Oh, it s yours all right. Is your wife at home 
 in New York 
 
 " No, she s here in camp, and you ll meet her if 
 you ll come to dinner." 
 
 "Great Scott, Mr Pinckney! I ll go skin that 
 b ar alone. You go and tell her you re all right. 
 She ll have heard the shooting 
 
 " She won t worry she ll think it was a prairie 
 chicken or a deer." 
 
 410
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " Five shots and another gun ? Why, a child 
 would know it was a b ar No, sir, you go home. 
 And load up first though I don t think the mate s 
 between here and your camp. You ain t in Wall 
 Street." 
 
 Carefully reloading his own, Mr Armitage made 
 his way through the raspberries to where the bear 
 lay, unsheathing a formidable hunting knife that was 
 at his belt. 
 
 Pinckney renewed his thanks and followed the 
 advice; not so much to tranquilize his wife as to tell 
 her of their unexpected guest and suggest some 
 changes in her apparel. It was an hour before Ar 
 mitage arrived, lugging the bearskin ; he had evi 
 dently washed both himself and it, and looked, Aus 
 tin thought, very like a gentleman indeed. He was 
 evidently much struck, and afterwards a little puz 
 zled, by Dorothy ; he lent only a courteous atten 
 tion to what she said, but Austin noted his eyes were 
 straying to her all the evening. 
 
 Armitage, it turned out, had lived twenty years 
 in the West, in what he called God s country a 
 phrase objectionably suggestive of brass-band Amer 
 icans, but used by him in all simplicity to indicate 
 the lofty plains that stretch from the Colorado to 
 the cactus barrens. He had not the alleged Western 
 habit of asking questions ; but it developed that 
 
 411
 
 Pinckney was a lawyer and that they were heading, 
 in a general way, for the Grand Canon. He said 
 nothing that night; but the next morning (making, 
 as Dorothy said, his dinner call like a civilized being) 
 he diffidently suggested that he might go with them 
 thither. He mentioned apologetically that he had 
 purchased a Spanish grant " there away " also that 
 he might be of some assistance to them as a guide. 
 Pinckney was more than willing; grateful, in fact. 
 Even Dorothy had taken rather a liking to him. 
 
 His " little grant " turned out to be a tract of 
 land about the size of Wales. And it lay along a 
 river which, rising with a bed level with the surround 
 ing country, ended, somewhere on the Rio Grande, 
 with a canon almost as deep as the Colorado canon 
 itself. They took it with the assistance of a rail 
 way, leaving their outfit in camp in two days on 
 the way. Armitage, though a bachelor, maintained 
 a most comfortable ranch ; Dorothy was given every 
 thing but a lady s maid. And in the evening he devel 
 oped his scheme. 
 
 "You know Michigan is a great fruit State. 
 Well, I know the kind of country it will grow in 
 melons and plums and even nectarines, also corn and 
 tobacco. They re the most profitable crops. Also, 
 I am something of an engineer, and I surveyed this 
 tract for years before I bought it. This river will 
 
 412
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 irrigate nearly the whole of it all the mesa and bot 
 tom land. There s 2,000 square miles in the tract, 
 as the survey calls. The irrigated land in Colorado, 
 Grand River, sells at $100 an acre, but call it $10. 
 At 500,000 acres there s $5,000,000." 
 
 "How much will it cost to irrigate it?" 
 " Permanently and well, over a million dollars. 
 Then there should be a repair fund to produce 
 $30,000 a year, say half a million more. That s the 
 money I m going to get in Wall Street." Like all 
 Western men Armitage was absolutely confident of 
 his fortunes and equally convinced that Wall Street 
 would look at them in the same light. Austin 
 forbore to disabuse him moreover, the enterprise 
 seemed really a genuine one. And Armitage s only 
 terror was lest Washington should hear of it and 
 hold his river navigable. That would mean that he 
 must get an Act of Congress. And that would mean 
 a hold up in the Senate. The senators, he explained, 
 in the West, were used to getting irrigable lands for 
 themselves, and have the Government pay for the 
 irrigation. 
 
 Farming land does not usually strike an Ameri 
 can as synonymous with wealth beyond the dreams 
 of avarice. Particularly in New York the private 
 capitalist has seen too much money go out, to the 
 West and South, and too little come back. No rents, 
 
 413
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 of course, are collectible from agricultural land ; it 
 is contrary to the American spirit to pay rent for 
 farms ; while even the business men in towns, across 
 Missouri, regard rent as a peculiarly useless form 
 of expenditure ; and mortgages, of course, come 
 home to roost. So reasoned Austin, and suggested 
 to Armitage to try a nearer centre Chicago or 
 Boston, where not so many thousand schemes were 
 jostling for favor or even London, for your Eng 
 lishman is bred to regard real estate as a solid invest 
 ment and farming a remunerative business, nor is he 
 feazed by the remoteness of an Arizona valley, all 
 American distances being alike to his undeveloped 
 imagination. But Armitage was firm in the belief 
 that the only real Money Power is intrenched in Wall 
 Street. 
 
 " As I understand it," he would say, " we are 
 playing a great national game, and you gentlemen 
 in New York hold the box of chips. The chips are 
 of no real value in themselves, but we can t play the 
 game without them. New York sits swapping chips 
 on a commission, and the rest of the country is sweat 
 ing to produce intrinsic value. And every ten or 
 twenty years you call us down, and we have to cash 
 our values in chips." Thus Armitage would talk un 
 conscious Ruskin, while, like the Ancient Mariner, 
 he held his interlocutor with dreamy, speculative eye. 
 
 414
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " The Money Power " he always spoke this phrase 
 in capitals " is there and we have got to kotow 
 to it." 
 
 " Wanting a little of the same yourself," smiled 
 Austin. 
 
 " When I get it, I ll buy a seat in the United 
 States Senate and bust up that whole outfit," laughed 
 the other. " This country s been governed by the 
 clever folks too long. I d like to give the honest fools 
 a chance." 
 
 There was no railway to the canon then ; they 
 rejoined their outfit at Flagstaff, Arizona; thence 
 there was a two days ride through a well-wooded 
 plain, the San Cristobal Mountains robed from peak 
 to plain in spotless snow, though it was still only 
 October. It did not need this, however, to tell them 
 they were very high : the air, the dry hills, the deeply 
 carved water courses, the look of the atmosphere bore 
 witness also. Austin was wonderfully exhilarated. 
 He mentally resolved that if ever again the smirch 
 of the city, the stain and the sorrow of civilization, 
 became too much for him, he would know where to 
 come for an air to blow it all away. He thought, 
 too, of Miss Ravenel it was permitted him now 
 to think of her, thank God ! in the differing beauty, 
 the drowsy summer luxuriance of the low-lying 
 Laurel valley. He did not need to write to her ; he 
 
 415
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 could bear even not to see her, now that his offense 
 had been condoned. There was joy in living anywise, 
 that she was in the world. The desert was peopled 
 for him with a dreaming face. 
 
 But to poor Dorothy the desert was beginning 
 to be lonely or, rather, she ceased to bear well its 
 loneliness. She could not live without her kind. It 
 were hard to mention any one of her acquaintances 
 for whom she cared particularly ; yet collectively they 
 were the all in all. There was hardly a woman she 
 liked, there certainly was not a man she loved 
 naturally not Markoff, surely not Gansevoort, while 
 Van Kull had been a girlish fancy yet she was tired 
 of her husband, while Armitage was to her as if he 
 did not exist. She grew petulant, intolerant of the 
 hardships of camp life. She was tired, she said, of 
 being dirty. 
 
 At the Grand Canon, some New York newspapers 
 that she found seemed to finish her. Mrs Gower at 
 Newport was giving a dinner to the Duke of Gross- 
 minster ; Jimmy de Witt, it was rumored, was getting 
 a divorce. Mr Augustus Markoff had completed his 
 marble cottage there and was preparing for a great 
 housewarming, a cotillon dinner to end the season. 
 The Duvals had opened their great place on the 
 Hudson and were emphasizing Pussy de Witt s inno 
 cence by entertaining lavishly. Dorothy remembered 
 
 416
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 that Tony Duval and Pussy were brother and sister. 
 The Einsteins were already on their Long Island 
 demesne. But there were no letters ; letters were only 
 to meet them on their return, at Colorado Springs. 
 The papers, though old and soiled by the hotel guests, 
 were too fascinating to leave: she made pretext of a 
 headache, and Austin rode down the canon alone. 
 
 She had curtly told him, from her bedroom, that 
 they must start for home next day. And for those 
 twelve hours the man permitted himself the intoxica 
 tion of his dream. Her presence was with him in the 
 gulf of shimmering color, her voice in the rushing of 
 the waters at its base, and, as he rode back at evening 
 by the light of the stars, her eyes were in them, too. 
 It was very late when he got back to the little hotel 
 on the mighty chasm s brink ; still he must go out 
 upon its edge again ; he could not bear to have that 
 day come to its end. All below him was a shimmering 
 mist, the riot of color paled to gray, the void below 
 looking not so near as the opposite shore, lit light 
 on its rim by the moonlight, fifteen miles across, and 
 yet it looked to him as near as near as Laurel Run. 
 
 417
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 XLVII 
 
 IT grew to midnight one o clock, two o clock 
 then he went in and wrote his letter. It was a 
 simple letter enough any man might have written 
 such to any woman. Like the majesty outside, the 
 very vastness of a passion may bring tranquillity. 
 
 Yet there lay in his words some subtle suggestion 
 of great joy. Mary Ravenel, reading it, could see 
 that the man was happy. It was the first time he 
 had written to her. The letter was about their 
 travels ; how Dorothy had borne it ; a word or two 
 of the grizzly, of Armitage, something on Western 
 life and character, a paragraph of rapture about 
 the Grand Canon. It closed with a question or two 
 " Pray tell me how the boycott is getting on. 
 When are you coming to New York? " He only 
 permitted himself four pages. He folded it, en 
 closed it, sealed it, wrote the address, but as he did so, 
 like any boy, he bent down to the little white square, 
 and upon it, again and again, he kissed her name. 
 
 Well, no roof could be borne by hirr that night. 
 Again he went out upon the cliff. The dawn was 
 beginning. What did it matter? she would never 
 know he would not lose the ecstasy of the night. 
 His side of the chasm was in gray shadow, but the 
 
 418
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Western cliffs already flame color. He no longer 
 argued with himself, on his side of that more impas 
 sable gulf that separated them, that it was not love. 
 But all love is one, he felt, inextricably blended, body, 
 heart, and soul, in a triune root: the body even no 
 other than the soul, the love of child, of wife the 
 love of her no other than the love of God. He 
 would not deny his Lord. There was, of course, no 
 need for her to love him, too: that did not matter. 
 By this time the sun had risen ; its fire lit up even 
 to the depths ; below, far below the gray and scarlet 
 rocks, the gorgeous-tinted clays, there swam in the 
 still valley an isle of tender green. Such a still islet 
 in the flood might be their hour of meeting. 
 
 He posted his letter there, at the Grand Canon. 
 He might have carried it with him, but he did not 
 dare. Safe in the little mail pouch, it was beyond 
 his reach ; he could not destroy it, or rewrite it ; it 
 had passed into the hands of Fate. 
 
 Austin had no desire to stay there longer, and 
 that afternoon they left. Armitage had separated 
 from them the day before. They rode then through 
 a forest of mighty coniferce ; now already these have 
 passed through the pulp mill. They came to a Moqui 
 village, curious, several-storied structures of adobe, 
 where Dorothy bought Navajo blankets it was such 
 a pleasure, she said, to shop again ! And then they 
 
 419
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 got upon the train. At Colorado Springs they found 
 their letters and stayed several days there are drives 
 on the shoulder of the Continental backbone, on Chey 
 enne Mountain, whence, at sunset, you may see the 
 shadow of the day sweep eastward, swifter than the 
 wind, across leagues and hundreds of leagues of 
 lowering, billowing prairie, until, in your imagina 
 tion, you ride with it, to the mighty Mississippi, to 
 the sea you fancy the Appalachians as but foot 
 hills in the distance. Dorothy was fascinated to find, 
 in the hotel, some New York people who, she felt 
 sure, were getting a divorce. One of them she knew ; 
 another she knew by reputation, and the young man 
 who was devoting himself to her, anticipating the 
 event. She was in no hurry, now ; she had received 
 her mail, and in it the hoped-for Markoff invitation : 
 the party took place early in December, and people 
 were to return from the city and make a week of it. 
 " In December," wrote Markorf , " we can do what we 
 like." The invitation was not formal. She told 
 Austin that she meant to go ; and he was very angry. 
 She only reiterated her resolve, adding that he need 
 not come unless he liked. 
 
 But Austin also had had a letter and it was 
 from Miss Ravenel. Dorothy was never curious 
 about her husband s letters. He took it away, and 
 read it alone. He counted the words there were 
 
 420
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 four hundred and sixty-three ; very soon, one may 
 suspect, he had them all by heart. It was mostly 
 about the boycott ; something about her " social 
 reconciliation " parties. They had been a greater 
 success this second year. She had the Havilands, of 
 course, and Freddy Wiston, and, of all men, Lucie 
 Gower, and, among the women, Mrs Rastacq ! Each 
 class, she wrote, seemed to get on better with its op 
 posite than with itself ; her great ladies had been per 
 fect with the young men, and the " gentlemen," 
 technically so called, with the working women ; but 
 the corresponding classes would not mix. " I have 
 most trouble of all with the college girls," she wrote, 
 " from Vassar or the West perhaps I have not been 
 West far enough. The men we invited are of quite 
 the same station as these girls fathers ; yet the girls 
 try to emphasize every little social difference, when 
 the whole spirit of our plan is to deny its reality ! I 
 had no idea there was so much good in Mrs Rastacq. 
 Freddy and Mr Radnor have been splendid." 
 
 If Austin felt any heartburning that he had never 
 been invited on these visits, it was in some way a balm 
 that Miss Ravenel did not seem to think it needed 
 explanation. " The watch situation is really terri 
 ble," she wrote. " The Trust not only refuses to sell 
 to our poor Laurel Run people, but even threatens 
 to boycott any dealer to whom they sell. Our last
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 agents in Baltimore, Washington, New York 
 have written me that they fear they must give up the 
 agency. If so, the twenty-two families that lived on 
 Laurel Run for near a hundred years must be ruined. 
 They know no other trade. Do think of some way 
 to help them." And Austin swore to himself that 
 he would. He resolved a plan even of going to 
 Laurel Run to inform himself directly but no, 
 he must not go to Laurel Run. She was still at 
 Ravenel. 
 
 Before, however, he could consider this, he was 
 occupied, on his return, by a greater piece of busi 
 ness. Mr Gresham was too old to undertake it, and 
 Radnor had to be away. Markoff, it appeared, said 
 Radnor, " nosing around, Jewlike, to find some stuff 
 that people would buy," had discovered, in London, 
 a thirst for brewing properties. It was his Pandaric 
 function to allay this thirst and line his own pock 
 ets. New York was too big a field to tackle; but 
 on coming back he had secured an option on the 
 Springvale breweries, the largest in the East. The 
 option was for $10,000,000. The present owners 
 took their price, part in bonds and part in cash. 
 The preferred stock necessary for the balance was 
 already sold in London. The common stock was 
 retained by Markoff, and for other " founders 
 shares. But the British investor, docile as a child 
 
 422
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 up to this point, insisted on careful inventories, de 
 scriptions, and the appraisement and certification by 
 three expert brewers that the properties acquired 
 were worth 2,000,000. Markoff, representing the 
 vendors, could not act. Their client, the Miners 
 Bank, represented the purchasers ; so they were 
 called upon to fill the gap. 
 
 It happened that the business came to a head the 
 very week before Markoff s housewarming. Great 
 doings were to be had on that occasion ; he had char 
 tered a Sound steamer to bring his guests on from 
 New York ; also a comic-opera company ; and they 
 were to have a performance on the boat. There were 
 only twoscore guests, equally divided between men 
 and women ; there were more than this number in the 
 comic-opera company, but they were mostly girls. 
 And Dorothy was perfectly determined to go on 
 this way. 
 
 Austin went away to Springvale. His old law- 
 school friend Wentworth now lived in that city, and 
 Austin had put the preliminary matters in his hands. 
 He had supposed it would be an easy enough affair 
 to get the appraisement done, and hoped to return 
 to New York the same evening. But he found the 
 brewers of Springvale singularly shy. One was out 
 of business, a second was " interested," a third 
 plumply refused to act. A fourth was a competitor, 
 
 423
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 but for that reason would not " spoil his rival s bar 
 gain." Austin thought this singularly high-minded. 
 He spent his day in the vain search and then went 
 back to Wentworth s office. 
 
 " It is being borne in upon me that the brewers 
 of Springvale are a singularly modest or else a sin 
 gularly honest lot of men," said he, as he threw him 
 self wearily into a chair. 
 
 " I was coming to that same conclusion myself," 
 laughed Wentworth. " You must telegraph Mark- 
 off, and spend the night with me." 
 
 It was delightful to see old Wentworth again. 
 Despite his peaceful life, Austin fancied that he 
 looked older than himself; he certainly had more 
 prominent pounds about the waist. He did not live 
 in the city, but had a country place at a beautiful 
 college town some ten miles off. " It is not as big as 
 Harvard, but we think it does good work," said he. 
 " And I want you to see our lovely country." 
 
 The country was lovely: and in the quadrangles 
 of the old colleges it seemed indeed that one might 
 live in peace. Below them, in the broad intervale, 
 meandered the quiet river; two gently undulating 
 mountains lay to the north; and on a grassy knoll 
 the college buildings stood, venerable in their ivy and 
 quiet crimson brick. Copied evidently from the 
 parent Yale or Harvard, it seemed still dedicated to 
 
 424
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 the early, simpler life. " Go out thenceforth in wis 
 dom : for in her gates is peace." 
 
 Lovely, too, was Wentworth s wife ; Austin had 
 never seen her before, for Wentworth, when he was 
 married not so many years since had been too 
 modest to send him her portrait; and Austin (he felt 
 ashamed to remember) had been too busy to leave 
 New York for the wedding. He had sent, with his 
 excuses, a Wyant picture, which now formed the 
 principal ornament of Mrs Wentworth s parlor. It 
 was distinctively her parlor ; full of signs of a fem 
 inine presence, plentiful in flowers ; Wentworth s 
 library was in another wing " away from the racket 
 of the children," three of whom came in to the early 
 dinner, and did not seem to be so afraid of their 
 father as this speech would indicate. The house was 
 spacious and full of dignity ; the gardens, Mrs Went 
 worth s special pride, he could even then see, would 
 be lovely in the summer. 
 
 The two old friends sat up late at night, talking. 
 Austin s heart was sore ; Dorothy and he again had 
 had an altercation, when he had left that morning, 
 still about Markoff s party. She had even threatened 
 him with divorce. The novelty of confidence, the 
 sympathy of their boyhood s friendship, almost broke 
 Austin down. He spoke quite frankly. He did not 
 recognize divorce no South Carolinian could but 
 23 425
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 he did not know that he could bear to go on. His 
 old friend was deeply distressed ; yet took it gravely, 
 not seeking to minimize matters. This, indeed, would 
 have closed poor Austin s lips at once. He told him 
 of the summer, of his effort at reconciliation. 
 
 " I am sure you love her still," said Wentworth. 
 " When she is older, her true self will return again. 
 It is a pity you have no children." 
 
 Both men were silent some minutes. Then Went 
 worth spoke, in a low voice. " She was very lovely. 
 Did you know, I loved her once? " 
 
 "You?" 
 
 " Forgive me, but that was why I would not go 
 with you to New York." 
 
 Coming to Wentworth s office next morning, they 
 found Markoff already sitting there, like a fat, black 
 spider with his legs drawn under him. " What s all 
 this nonsense? " said he. 
 
 Austin briefly recounted what had occurred. 
 
 " Of course you know this appraisement is a mere 
 formality." 
 
 " My instructions from London are to have it 
 made." 
 
 Markoff took another tack. " A brewery is not 
 to be appraised as so much land, so many coils of 
 copper pipe. You remember what Dr Johnson said 
 to the buyers at the auction of Mrs Thrale s brewery? 
 
 426
 
 L ... .,;:_ :. .... 
 
 "Like a fat, black spider with his legs drawn under him."
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 They are crazy for the stock in London. They know 
 well enough what they are buying not a mere brew 
 ery but the potentiality of wealth beyond the 
 dreams of avarice. 
 
 " I am willing to appraise it at that, if you like," 
 laughed Austin. 
 
 " You know what Englishmen are like they 
 must have a tin box full of flourished handwriting, 
 tied up and sealed, with plenty of pink ribbon if 
 they get that, they don t care how much they are 
 swindled." 
 
 " I know one man who may consent to serve," 
 said Wentworth, intervening. " He is the only brewer 
 not taken into the Trust." 
 
 " Well, go get him," grunted Markoff, as he 
 buried himself in the morning paper. 
 
 All that day Wentworth and Austin were en 
 gaged in fruitless search, coining back to the office, 
 from time to time, to report; and all that day sat 
 Markoff burying his nose in the New York papers, 
 an expression of increasing disgust upon his coun 
 tenance. He would look pityingly at his classmates 
 when they entered, as one who sees a bungler who 
 has missed his vocation. Finally he gave up even 
 pity, but sat upon a stool, his short legs curled be 
 neath him, the very image of utter boredom. Austin 
 was amazed at his patience; but he thought of the 
 
 427
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Newport palace and reflected that that was the way 
 his millions had been made. In the afternoon Went- 
 worth reported that even the outside brewer had 
 declined to serve. Markoff, however, took his name 
 and address. 
 
 " Nothing remains but to cable for further in 
 structions," said Austin. 
 
 " Oh, well, wait till to-morrow." They went back 
 to New York in the train together. How could Aus 
 tin refuse to dine with a man he was going to visit? 
 And it was Markoff who told him that Dorothy had 
 promised to come, definitely, by the boat. When they 
 had had their altercation, it was already no open 
 question. Of course, Austin decided to come, too. 
 They dined at Delmonico s. Markoff had become 
 the man of fashion again ; it was as if he had never 
 heard of the Springvale breweries. But the day be 
 fore the party, Gresham received a cable from London 
 saying that the brewery affairs had been placed in the 
 hands of another firm. And when, on the completion 
 of the flotation, the issue was announced in the news 
 papers, Austin observed that the amount was now 
 placed at twelve millions instead of ten ; and first on 
 the list of appraisers was the recalcitrant outside 
 brewer. And a few months later his property also 
 passed into the hands of the Trust. 
 
 428
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 XLVIII 
 
 THE opera on the boat was not so much of a 
 success, perhaps, as the novelty of the imagi 
 nation deserved. True, the after saloon was carefully 
 curtained off from the rest of the steamer, the chorus 
 girls screened from the scrutiny of grinning deck 
 hands, the gallery hung with Turkey carpets ; and 
 trained footmen replaced the wonted darkies in at 
 tendance. In spite of all, the opera girls had a bad case 
 of stage fright. The sea was perfectly calm ; never 
 theless the prima donna (French) chose to be seasick. 
 The audience, small in number but brilliant in quality, 
 did their best to reassure them; they sat very close 
 and applauded enthusiastically. It had been a 
 mooted question how to dress ; low gowns seemed 
 unusual on a steamboat ; but it was finally decided 
 that, the occasion being extraordinary, the dresses 
 should be extraordinary too. So low gowns were 
 worn ; not indeed so low as were reserved for the 
 grand occasion on the following night, but low 
 enough to put the chorus girls in countenance. One 
 pretty show girl in particular she came of a re 
 spectable family in Detroit, and had sought New 
 York fired with the ambition and romance of the 
 stage, had there been promptly engaged by Saiman 
 
 429
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Lohmann, but had done nothing now for two years 
 but wear abbreviated dresses was encouraged by 
 Mr Van Kull to be taken down in the entr acte and 
 introduced to the company. The combination of her 
 shapely legs and Pussy de Witt s celebrated arms 
 and neck was, as they stood side by side, most pi 
 quant. The chorus girl appeared the more modest 
 of the two. Her one ambition was to get a speaking 
 part and be allowed to resume her skirts, she said. 
 But the play, as a play, dragged, and all were glad 
 when it was bedtime. It was far too cold to go on 
 deck, and the guests all went to their respective state 
 rooms. 
 
 The next night, however, it was different. Then 
 the play was given on the stage at the end of the 
 great ballroom ; the elevated platform, the orchestra, 
 separated the players from the greater folk; they 
 were more in their element, while the brilliancy of 
 the lights, the white and gold and crimson damask 
 of the room, set off more effectively the really won 
 derful dresses. This time no chorus girl was allowed 
 to mingle with the company ; it seems that the night 
 before had caused a jealousy behind the curtain al 
 most amounting to a strike; moreover, it had come 
 to Mrs de Witt s ears that some of the young unmar 
 ried girls had objected. Mrs de Witt was openly in 
 charge of all the arrangements, frankly acting as 
 
 430
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Markoff s hostess ; but it was hardly believed that 
 she meant to marry him. There were a few young 
 girls asked, and it was commonly understood that 
 Markoff meant to take his pick of these. 
 
 The probable composition of the party had been 
 a subject of enthralling interest to the guests, among 
 them Dorothy. Bets were made as to whether Mark- 
 off would persuade Mrs Gower, Mrs Rastacq, Pete 
 Gansevoort. It was well understood to be Markoff s 
 bold bid for entrance among the very holy of holies ; 
 he had a puissant champion in Pussy de Witt ; on the 
 other hand, Mrs Rastacq had never recognized him, 
 and Pete Gansevoort was supposed to have black 
 balled him for the "Millionaires Club." Then he 
 could hardly avoid asking Mrs Malgam, for she, first 
 of all New York, had allowed him to enter her house ; 
 but she never went anywhere now without Jimmy de 
 Witt, and Markoff, of course, could not ask him to 
 meet his wife, so there was a difficulty. Then he had 
 himself thought Gansevoort and Dorothy rather an 
 impossible combination, and there was another; and 
 he wanted Dorothy. But at this Pussy only laughed 
 aloud. It added spice, she said ; moreover, it would 
 be fun to see how Peter the Great would behave. 
 
 And then Pussy de Witt good naturedly told 
 Dorothy that Gansevoort was coming. " You know, 
 my dear, Markoff must have him ; after all, he stands 
 
 431
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 at the head. Besides, any girl will go to a house 
 where he is, and Markoff must have a few unmarried 
 girls really nice girls, I mean. The girl Gansevoort 
 selects will be the admitted queen of American society 
 at least among the younger set and perhaps our 
 little Jew may catch her runner up on the re 
 bound ! " Pussy de Witt did not pretend to have 
 any illusions about Markoff; she was simply, as she 
 would have said, " out for a good time " ; and Dor 
 othy had replied that she had not the least objection 
 to meeting Mr Gansevoort. (Indeed, it was long 
 since she had openly admitted to herself her regret. 
 At that time she had not realized his grandeur. Aus 
 tin had, in a way, taken advantage of her youth.) 
 
 But the bettors were all astounded at the party 
 as ultimately made up. To begin with, Mrs Gower 
 declined, intimating that it bored her to go to other 
 people s houses. But both Pete Gansevoort and 
 Mamie Rastacq accepted. Altogether, the company 
 was of the very best (Pussy told Dorothy) ; there 
 were absolutely no poky, dingy people; everyone 
 knew that a man like Markoff would have to be very 
 particular whom he asked, and was anxious to come 
 accordingly. No party is so smart as that given by 
 an outsider. Dorothy had been rather nettled at 
 Mrs de Witt s assured confidence in her own accep 
 tance. After all, she was but an attorney s wife. It 
 
 432
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 did not make things better that she was still the pret 
 tiest woman there. Van Kull told her so, and, more 
 over, that even Gansevoort had said so, in the smoking 
 room; Dorothy blushed with pleasure. But it was 
 not a position, to be asked because she was pretty; 
 Gansevoort s wife could afford to be plain ! 
 
 Her position had been good ; she had been received 
 among them ; but she had never taken part as one of 
 the inner score before. Really, these were all people 
 that would go to Gansevoort s own house, except 
 Markoff himself, perhaps, and Mrs Malgam and 
 themselves. Dorothy was intoxicated by the expe 
 rience, and by its luxury. 
 
 For Markoff s palace was really the most perfect 
 thing of its kind in America. Not too large, with 
 every modern fancy and convenience, its fittings and 
 tapestries, ceilings and bibelots, were of the best that 
 the eighteenth century could do. The dinner, of 
 twenty-four, had been splendid; the daring little 
 operetta (the prima donna sang in French) an amus 
 ing respite ; but the real night began after the ball 
 room was deserted, the band had gone, the singers 
 and chorus girls packed in their special train to 
 New York. 
 
 Out of Markoff s private library which was 
 furnished with a " ticker " giving the latest quota 
 tions and sporting news, a private wire to New York, 
 29 433
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 a pretty stenographer, and telegraph blanks came 
 the card room. If unfortunate at bridge you could 
 go into the next room and recoup on stocks. Bridge 
 was a new game then ; but Dorothy had spent some 
 weeks of preparation in earnest study. No play was 
 allowed except for money ; but the pretty stenog 
 rapher, their host informed them, was a banker and 
 would cash their checks. And Dorothy actually 
 found herself at the table with Pete Gansevoort and 
 Tony Duval, of the Jockey Club. 
 
 She had not maneuvered against this meeting. 
 Yet it was no case, she felt, for maidenly reserve. 
 She owed him more than an apology. She had 
 seized every occasion to edge toward his chair. 
 Whenever Gansevoort looked up, he found her soft 
 eyes fixed on his. Their expression was tragic, pa 
 thetic ; she never ventured on a smile yet. But it 
 was absolutely necessary to her life that all the 
 Gansevoorts should be placated. She had got into 
 the inner circle at last where she realized their 
 power. 
 
 Austin, on the other hand, avoided Mamie Ras- 
 tacq. It was incredible to him that she had been at 
 Ravenel and the horror of that night at Lenox, 
 years before, came back to him a horror long for 
 gotten ; for he had, as it were, been shriven since. 
 But only he knew that. And if she were to talk of 
 
 434
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 him, to speak of him, as she must have thought him 
 then to her 
 
 But again he misconceived poor Mamie. She met 
 him frankly on the marble terrace, the afternoon of 
 their arrival, and put out her hand. " Haven t I 
 been Christianlike ? " and when Austin, puzzled, 
 looked at her : " Why, any woman can forgive the 
 first kiss taken, but it takes a Christian to forgive 
 the second, that was not taken ! " There was not the 
 faintest shadow in her laughing eyes. Nor yet was 
 her laugh one of flirtation. " Come, if you like, we 
 were both very wicked, only I warned you, I did it 
 for fun." 
 
 Austin demurred. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I did it. I d tell anyone I did it. You 
 were not to blame. But now, I ve come to be a friend. 
 You know, I m giving up this sort of thing. I ve 
 come only on your account. Well, your wife s, 
 then." Her tone, still superficially light, had quite 
 changed in manner. Austin still said nothing. 
 
 " You know, I ve been her friend perhaps her 
 best friend in New York except the Major." 
 
 "You know dear old Brandon, then?" 
 
 " Gervaise and I are old friends he was a pal 
 of of Lionel Derwent s when I was a little girl. 
 And you and Dorothy are nearer than children to 
 him." 
 
 435
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " I know," said Austin sadly. 
 
 " Do you play bridge? You must play to-night." 
 
 The play began, after supper and some dancing, 
 about three in the morning. At the table with Aus 
 tin were Mamie and Mrs Malgam, and Markoff him 
 self. Sometimes Arthur Holyoke would come in, as 
 a fifth hand ; Baby Malgam was trying to make him 
 jealous of Markoff. The odd man usually went out 
 and smoked a cigar ; cigarettes only were allowed in 
 the room. But the odor of stale cigarettes, even on 
 ladies lips, is more sickening than that of cigar 
 smoke ; and Austin thought it blended horribly with 
 the odor of great masses of roses that stood, in huge 
 china vases, on every window sill. At five the men 
 began to drink whisky and soda instead of cham 
 pagne, and a few of the ladies to sip the latter. He 
 rose, once and again, to go, but Mrs Rastacq would 
 never let him. " Stay, stay ; you are no quitter 
 
 Poor Austin was ecceure positively heartsick 
 with it all. His wife was at the next table, a gleam 
 in her eyes that even he had never seen ; he saw her 
 light a cigarette, and twice she came and asked him 
 for money. She was at Petrus Gansevoort s table, 
 and what what now could he do? Mrs Malgam, 
 his own vis-a-vis, lighted one cigarette with another 
 
 436
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 and studied the score intently ; she would allow no one 
 to keep it but herself. Early in the morning Austin 
 even thought her affected by the champagne she 
 had taken. 
 
 The scene, to him, was a horrible one. The bare, 
 underlying nature of these women seemed exposed; 
 only Mamie Rastacq (who nevertheless would not 
 go) looked still like a lady and bore herself as if 
 above it all. Indeed, they had a word about it to 
 gether. " We are mostly common stuff it is the 
 time to see what a woman really is. The veneer of 
 refinement doesn t wear through the night. The 
 cynics know it look at Kill Van Kull. Look at that 
 young girl, reaching out. After all, her complexion 
 can stand it." It was true, but there were dark rings 
 under her eyes. The girl was studying the score. 
 Mamie went on : 
 
 " It makes one feel that there s no difference be 
 tween us and the chorus girls or washerwomen. You 
 men stand it better but you are trained to be gen 
 tlemen, even in your vices. Look, is that the dawn? " 
 
 It certainly was, and footmen were called to shut 
 it out. A dozen of them came in and did their work 
 deftly, respectfully, looking carefully away from the 
 gentlemen and ladies. Two or three of the former 
 were plainly drunk. Baby Malgam was in real dis 
 tress ; beads of perspiration were on her forehead ; 
 
 437
 
 she had lost a thousand dollars ; the blood had re 
 treated from her white skin and left two patches of 
 rouge exposed ; her gown slipped on one shoulder as 
 she dealt the cards; she did not readjust it until the 
 deal was over. 
 
 Suddenly the folding doors were thrown open, 
 and there came in a flood of winter sunshine from 
 the snow beyond the terraces. The women fled with 
 shrieks. " It is eight o clock," said Mrs de Witt, 
 " and time to go to bed." The men laughed and 
 remained to calculate the scores. Austin followed 
 his wife to her room. His own was at the other end 
 of the building men together, women together 
 on every door was a little card. 
 
 " Dorothy, I can t stand this ; I m going away," 
 said Austin. 
 
 Dorothy compressed her lips to a pale line. " Oh, 
 why did you ever marry me ? " She spoke only petu 
 lantly. " Why don t you get a divorce ? " She threw 
 herself down on the bed without undressing, careless, 
 apparently, even of crushing her delicate dress. He 
 made a motion to kneel at her side ; she rang the elec 
 tric bell by the bed, and he checked himself. 
 
 You do not know what you are saying He 
 spoke in stifled tones. 
 
 " I know very well if you don t like me or my 
 friends you have only to go away. Here comes the 
 
 438
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 maid. Unlace me, Mclanie The last words were 
 spoken to the servant, but in quite the same indiffer 
 ent tone. But Austin saw that red spots had now 
 come in her cheeks, making less visible the dark rings 
 under the eyes ; as he looked, she buried her face in 
 the pillow, either to avoid him or to help Melanie, 
 who now, imperturbably, began cutting the lacing at 
 the back of her gown ! " Oh, go away ! " she said 
 again. 
 
 Austin turned without another word and left her. 
 
 XLIX 
 
 BELATED members of the house party were 
 still coming up the stairs as he came down 
 the corridor, although the sun was now streaming 
 broadly through all the windows. The young girls 
 were the last to come up, and with them, of course, 
 their titular chaperon, Mamie Rastacq. " They say 
 there is snow enough for sleighing," he heard one 
 of them say. " He can t have expected it 
 
 " There are sleighs in the stable, I know," said 
 Killian Van Kull. " Won t you come? Come now 
 just before breakfast." But Mamie was driving her 
 brood along like a hen her chickens. 
 
 " In a ball dress, indeed ! Trot along, girls it s 
 439
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 nearly church time. Good night, Mr Van Kull." 
 The young girl who had spoken of the snow now cast 
 a glance over her shoulder, which Van Kull s prac 
 tised eye was waiting to receive : then he retreated 
 toward the billiard room. There was a noise of 
 closing doors and skurrying maids. As if at a signal 
 the footmen had all disappeared; not a male thing 
 was visible ; a score of dainty-ribboned abigails, look 
 ing as if fresh from sleep, were cleaning, dusting, 
 carrying away the evidences of the night s pleasure. 
 The other men did not seem to have taken pains to 
 escort their wives upstairs, and Austin, left alone in 
 the ladies wing, was yet detained a moment by Mamie 
 as he passed hurriedly by. 
 
 " What s the matter, Mr Pinckney ? Was the 
 bridge too much for you or aren t you a good loser? 
 You look well, worse than any of us, Baby always 
 barred 
 
 He made some murmur of dissent ; she stood with 
 her hand on the door knob of her room, looking at 
 him intently, not roguishly ; she spoke as one of two 
 between whom all nonsense had disappeared. 
 
 " Meet me on the terrace at church time perhaps 
 you ll take me there 
 
 " I am not going to church," said Austin. " I 
 am going back to New York." 
 
 " Then you must certainly see me first. I have 
 440
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 something to say to you. Order a sleigh and tak 
 me sleighing. I ll meet you in half an hour. Any 
 how, you know, there s no train back to-day. I ll 
 run and tell Dorothy we are going." 
 
 Austin was not in a position to refuse such an 
 invitation from Mrs Rastacq. Nor, on the whole, 
 was there anyone he would rather see. Somehow he 
 felt that Mamie was the best physician for his case ; 
 and of her kindliness he was now assured. He there 
 fore promised to meet her as soon as he could and 
 hurried to his room, where he plunged at once into 
 the coldest bath the man could draw, then called for 
 coffee and ordered his sleigh. Quick as he was, he 
 found Mamie, fresh and rosy and swathed in snugly 
 fitting furs, walking on the terrace waiting for him. 
 
 "And now," said she, "what s the matter? I ll 
 be a mother confessor better still, a sister to you. 
 You know, I was in love with you once. Perhaps I 
 would be still -only since then I ve experienced 
 
 "Religion, perhaps? Or found me out?" The 
 man spoke bitterly. 
 
 " No, not religion. And I ve found But you 
 must talk of yourself. And you can tell me all the 
 truth. They say, the greatest happiness of being 
 with the woman that you love is that you can speak 
 all the truth to her. And why not, then, with the 
 woman who loves you? " 
 
 441
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 But Austin did not hear the challenge. Her other 
 words had struck him like a shot. It was true and 
 he had been longing, longing for speech with Mary 
 Ravencl, to-day, this day, for just that reason: to 
 her, alone, could he show the truth. 
 
 Mamie seemed wondrously amused. " How many 
 men would I dare say that to? Get in. No, when 
 I said I had experienced a change of heart But, 
 get in, then! Are you all here? " 
 
 " Get in," meant into the sleigh a scarlet new 
 cutter, behind a horse two men were holding. Austin 
 got in and gathered up the reins, and Mrs Rastacq 
 had to arrange herself in the furs. Then she said, 
 " Did you ever meet Mary Ravenel? " 
 
 The horse bounded furiously off, the groom won 
 dering at the unnecessary cut of the whip. But Aus 
 tin, now, at least, was all there. He sat very tight 
 and fixed his eyes upon the horse s ears. " Oh, yes," 
 he said, " I know her." 
 
 " I have been staying with her this summer. We 
 worked together all last winter. I wish Dorothy 
 could see more of her." 
 
 " I know her very slightly," said Austin. He had 
 a letter from Miss Ravenel in his pocket. 
 
 " It was really on Dorothy s account you spoke 
 as you did, last night this morning at my room, 
 I mean was it not? " 
 
 442
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " I can t abide the place I can t endure the life. 
 Dorothy may stay, if she wishes I won t." 
 
 " When I wanted to add to the evil of the world, 
 I thought the world was all evil," said Mrs Rastacq 
 simply. " It is better to find the good in it. After 
 all, do you never work in places that are worse than 
 this? Your work lies here just now." 
 
 Austin fingered at the letter in his breast. It 
 told him of the suffering at Laurel Run. Then he 
 thought of Nauchester ; of the world of labor in 
 New York; of those already so far off! bright 
 free days in the Rocky Mountains. " I see no worse 
 place than this. I may have seen worse people. But 
 even they were trying might be made to try to 
 be better." 
 
 " I am trying to be better," Mamie simply an 
 swered. " And Dorothy might be made to try 
 
 "And Markoff? Gansevoort? Van Kull?" 
 
 * I give you our host. As for poor old Kill, we 
 don t want him any better for the same reason the 
 reformer made an exception of hell : it would spoil 
 the place. But do you think you had better leave 
 Dorothy alone with Gansevoort? " 
 
 " My wife has placed herself in an impossible 
 situation coming under the same roof with Gan 
 sevoort," the man icily replied. There was a set to 
 his teeth that even Mamie had learned to know; it 
 
 443
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 was only Dorothy who could seem unconscious of it. 
 But (so the Major would have explained it) she had 
 seen Austin swayed by his desire of her and that 
 is a mastery a woman never forgets she has had. 
 " There is a night boat, and I must be in New York 
 to-morrow," Austin concluded. 
 
 " I shall have Markoff ask Major Brandon in 
 your place. And Mr Pinckney don t decide too 
 hastily women often need protection against them 
 selves. Remember, you men had your liberty since 
 society began it s new to us I only came on her 
 account. Your way should be her way 
 
 " You talk like the Major himself," laughed 
 Austin. " If my wife is too silly not to walk in the 
 tents of Kedar, I am too proud to make her walk in 
 leash. She says she wants a divorce. Well, she can 
 get one, in Rhode Island, for desertion. Will a Mon 
 day to Saturday do? Or must it run over Sunday? 
 You know, we are not strong on divorce in South 
 Carolina. I ve seen a great lady from New York in 
 vited to leave a Charleston ball with her new husband. 
 Anyhow, I go to-night." 
 
 Very gently Mamie answered. They had a long 
 drive, and he found her curiously changed. What 
 wonder was it the poor man bitterly thought 
 what wonder was it that was wrought by the soul of 
 this young girl on all she met? What radiance of 
 
 444
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 hers so transmuted into light all souls with whom 
 she came in contact? Here with this woman this 
 worldly, spoiled woman with all the women in her 
 classes, in the factory with them it could not be 
 her face. Yet with him ah, God, that he might see 
 her face again! It was nearing a year since he had 
 seen it last. Strange, that he could not take her face 
 with him wherever he went ! Her soul was in his, 
 but her face was dim already in his memory. And 
 he had her letter in his pocket. Should he go ? The 
 sleigh was dashing furiously through a now unbroken 
 road. 
 
 " Must you go ? " Austin came back with a start. 
 Go, whither? Oh, New York. He did not know how 
 long he had been dreaming. They say one can dream 
 a lifetime on the edge of awakening. One cannot live 
 a life on the edge of dreaming 
 
 " I want to go. I only came to give my wife 
 countenance I would not have her seem alone under 
 that man s roof. But, Mrs Rastacq, you are very 
 kind she will listen to you 
 
 " I ll look after her," said Mamie promptly. " It 
 is only till Friday." " Petrus Gansevoort is a stupid 
 man ; he will not dare " her thought went on. 
 
 Austin hardly saw his wife again before he left. 
 They were far separated at luncheon ; he did not seek 
 
 445
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 her in the afternoon ; on the whole, after her words, 
 he did not choose to explain that he was going. He 
 said a word of business in New York to Markoff; 
 and of course that gentleman recognized this excuse, 
 though, for the moment, his own business lay here. 
 
 Incidentally, he had meant to flirt with Austin s 
 wife. The girls were slow in coming. It was true, 
 hitherto, she had had her eyes only for Gansevoort, 
 and he was evidently dazzled by them. 
 
 Markoff had counted on her coming, as his guest, 
 this woman whom he once had kissed -to make her 
 helpless in his hands. He had understood her better 
 than her husband, he thought. And, after all, this 
 would do almost as well. To such as Markoff, not to 
 spurn is to consent. Vanity and revenge were more 
 to Markoff than any woman. He had never forgotten 
 the personal repulsion she had let him see, in Cam 
 bridge, five years back. Which was to be the road of 
 her humiliation did not matter. And he must not com 
 promise himself, if he meant to marry one of these 
 young girls. He would let her go to Gansevoort. 
 
 446
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 THE letter had come that morning, written from 
 the Havilands , addressed to his office. It 
 was a simple note, asking him to come and see her 
 and say what could be done ; the works at Laurel Run 
 were closed. He had hardly read the letter when it 
 came; his one desire had been to get alone, and this 
 first happened in his stateroom on the boat. There 
 he read slowly over the little note, then folded it to 
 his heart. The long year had gone by and he might 
 see her now, on the morrow. His very soul was bathed 
 in the glory of that coming light. 
 
 But with the dawn there came upon the man a 
 sense immutable, essential, not to be argued with 
 a sense like that sense of direction that bids a bird 
 or bee the straight way home a sense that he should 
 not seek her now. 
 
 Perhaps, thrown off his guard in his own desper- 
 ateness, he had, in his very yielding to it, discovered 
 the strength of his affection. There was no blinding 
 himself there might, alas ! if now they came to 
 gether, be no blinding her that, though in very 
 truth he adored her, worshiped her as an angel from 
 heaven he loved her also as a woman dwelling on 
 the earth. No law of God or man should avail to 
 
 447
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 stop his saying to himself that he loved her. And 
 as he would not walk before her path in hypocrisy, 
 he would not walk her path. So he kissed again her 
 name upon the letter, and then after his coffee in 
 his own house he wrote to her that he could only 
 judge of Laurel Run affairs upon the spot and was 
 on his way to Ravenel. " Blessed are the pure in 
 heart, for they shall see The time might come 
 when he might see her, but it was not yet. 
 
 In Maryland, Pinckney found himself once more 
 in the Indian summer. The country was red and 
 brown ; a blue haze was in the atmosphere ; the air 
 one breathed was softly pungent with the smoke of 
 burning vines. Somehow the beauty of the land came 
 over him with a new intoxication ; as he grew older, 
 he found himself more sensible than ever of nature s 
 charm, only, unhappily, to see it he must be alone. 
 There was a melancholy in the day ; but it was a 
 melancholy so full, so tremulous with feeling, so 
 sweetly speechf ul of the norms of life and death, and 
 change which is no change, and the peace which 
 abides, that it made in his heart a stirring undis- 
 tinguishable from joy. 
 
 To his surprise he found a carriage, with the old 
 white-haired servitor that was butler, major-domo, 
 and man of all work for old Mrs Warfield, and even 
 (it may be suspected) fed the one fat horse that was 
 
 448
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 still kept for the traffic of the manor house. " Mis 
 Warfield am expectin you, Mas r Pinckney," he 
 said ; " Miss Mary done telegraph." 
 
 Austin had planned to put up at Kollner s, if he 
 found it necessary to stay the night, but this mes 
 sage bore no refusal. The ancient negro treated him 
 as an old family friend, and this, he found, was the 
 footing on which Mrs Warfield awaited him ; noth 
 ing is so subtle as the divination of one s social stand 
 ing in the family by its old retainers. The place was 
 quite unchanged. The gardens were still beautiful, 
 but luxuriant, evidently getting beyond Miss Rave- 
 nel s control ; Austin had time for a walk in but one 
 of them before dinner. In New England, the hardiest 
 of gardens, left untended, in a few years dies. It 
 would seem as if in that Puritan air flowers were not 
 wanted ; the hard blind weeds and the dwellers of the 
 wood return ; yet there are flowers in the wild wood, 
 too. But Massachusetts is full of such lost places, 
 gardens overgrown, abandoned tofts, where there is 
 nothing now but some gnarled apple tree or unwonted 
 garden blooms to show where once was human life 
 and love. Austin knew how much this garden was a 
 part of the young girl s life, and he rejoiced to think 
 that it had long to live in that gentle air ; possibly, 
 some day ere long, there would be another to tend 
 
 it with her and her children after her 
 
 449
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 It was strange that, coming in, as he took his 
 seat opposite the old lady, she herself chose this 
 theme for their talk. She began by saying that she 
 regretted he had not come while Miss Ravenel was 
 there. Mary had had, on the whole, a very success 
 ful summer, but had worked too hard. Her house 
 parties had really seemed to justify their plan but 
 perhaps she bored him, talking so always about her 
 granddaughter? (God, to talk of her again as if 
 his whole acquaintance of the recent years had not 
 been chosen among those who, by some happy chance, 
 might speak to him of Mary Ravenel she little knew, 
 perhaps, how much he heard about her.) There was 
 Freddy Wiston, for instance (Austin s consciousness 
 emerged, as if from a diving bell) ; it was no breach 
 of confidence to tell how much he was in love with 
 Mary she would not listen to him. Yet he had the 
 sweetest nature, and his millions, surely, were no ob 
 jection there would be little enough when her pen 
 sion ended. " You know, Mr Pinckney, she will have 
 literally no relations Basil Conynghame is a recluse 
 there are one or two far-off Warfield cousins, whom 
 she never sees, and the Ravenels are extinct. As for 
 Mr Breese, she must have nothing to do with that 
 side of the house You know Miss Aylwin? of 
 course you do, she s in your office well, she has told 
 me things about Miles Breese fortunately that 
 
 450
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Pittsburg woman will look after him, and now that 
 he owes his daughter money, he s not likely to trouble 
 her. A very pretty girl is your Miss Aylwin how 
 much refinement she has for one in her station of life 
 Kbllner, at the works, is desperately in love with 
 her." 
 
 " Why doesn t she marry him? " said Austin. It 
 was easier to ask the question about Miss Aylwin 
 than about Miss.Ravenel. 
 
 The old lady shrugged her shoulders. " I don t 
 know what s got into the girls nowadays. In the 
 old times we were like to marry a dozen times before 
 we were twenty. Whether the men are inferior or 
 the girls don t fall in love We had no trouble 
 falling in love." And the old lady laughed with a 
 sparkle in her eye that made one wish to have been 
 born earlier. " Some of the girls at the works have 
 married and married men that they met through 
 Mary s parties. But I tell her, what s the use of 
 keeping a matrimonial bureau if she won t be her 
 own customer? " 
 
 " I thought her object was rather to refine the 
 men, to elevate the one sex by the other." 
 
 Mrs Warfield sniffed Voltairean. " Refinement 
 and marriage are the same thing for any man. And 
 a girl ought to fall in love by nature that s what 
 they re made for, not to alter the face of the world 
 
 451
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 the first thing they ll alter will be themselves, I ll 
 hazard and the last." 
 
 Austin could not but reflect how identical her 
 philosophy was with the Major s. 
 
 " She says the New York men are only money- 
 making machines. And the foreigners at Washing 
 ton she despises. Yet they know how to please a 
 woman. In my youth, we turned out American gen 
 tlemen who knew this, too. Where have they all 
 gone to? " 
 
 Kollner came in after dinner. He gave a pitiable 
 account of the conditions at Laurel Run. They must 
 certainly give up the business, he said. But the 
 Watchmakers Trust would only offer half what it 
 would have given a year since. And what would be 
 come of the people of Laurel Run? For the works 
 would certainly be abandoned ; and they owned their 
 own farms and homes, and had done so these hundred 
 years. They would have to be sold, as farms, for 
 what they would bring, and the young ladies (Koll 
 ner always said " young ladies ") take work in the 
 Philadelphia factories. One or two had been married 
 the past year ; they were the more fortunate. 
 
 " How are the works owned? " asked Austin. 
 
 " Ownedt? " Kollner looked as if he hardly under 
 stood. " Why, the people own them." 
 
 " But you must have some stock company ? 
 452
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 some organization ? certificates of stock to show 
 how much each one owns? " 
 
 Kollner shook his head. " There wass no needt. 
 Of course, the people who built the works, an hun- 
 dert years ago, they ownedt them, and now it is their 
 children and their grandchildren. What needt is 
 there of certificates? Everyone knows who they are 
 which owns the Laurel Run." 
 
 " But if one of the founders one of the people 
 who built the works a hundred years ago had only 
 one son and another had six, of course they would 
 have only a sixth part of the only son s share 
 
 " I do not see," said Kollner. " Every headt of 
 a family has a full share like every other -of course 
 they all work it is only of the profits that I speak : 
 all the women and the men are also paidt their wages 
 for what they work 
 
 Austin turned to Mrs Warfield with a laugh. 
 " That is true cooperation ! Only, I should think it 
 might unduly encourage large families. Mrs War- 
 field, can you keep me for a day or two longer? I 
 must have a friend down to see us here and, don t 
 be alarmed, he is a walking delegate ! " 
 
 But Mrs Warfield had not the faintest idea what 
 a walking delegate might be. She only said that any 
 friend of Mr Pinckney would be welcome ; and Aus 
 tin, who had not at first thought of having him in- 
 
 453
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 vited to the house, suddenly saw the wisdom of it, 
 and only added that she must not expect a gentle 
 man. Hugh Michael was but an educated mechanic. 
 At which the bright old lady only bridled a bit, seem 
 ing to think that anyone was a gentleman who was 
 invited to stay at Ravenel. Fritz Kollner volunteered 
 to ride to the station with a telegram to Michael from 
 Austin ; and our hero, who had promised himself a 
 lonely cigar in the garden, found himself tete-a-tete 
 with Mrs Warfield, who insisted on his having his 
 cigar with her. Austin consented, and with no bad 
 grace; but this time she did not talk of her grand 
 daughter, and he stood too much in awe of her pene 
 tration to so much as mention her name ; indeed her 
 name was always what he could least trust himself 
 to speak. But the lively old lady showed herself per 
 fectly charming ; she remembered even to the War of 
 1812 and was full of that human history of the Re 
 public that is not told in the books the social mis 
 adventures of Andrew Jackson and his womankind, 
 the successes of the bachelor Van Buren, the visit of 
 Lafayette. Lafayette had arrived at Ravenel ex 
 hausted from his Western trip, with only breath 
 enough left to say, " They are all good peop s, ver 
 good peop s, but I am ver tired ! " At one o clock 
 in the morning the lively old lady showed not the 
 slightest disposition to go to bed, and Austin, albeit 
 
 454
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 doubtful of the etiquette of the same, had to make 
 the move himself 
 
 Again he was under her roof. Hora quce non 
 sperabitur The day that he had thought would 
 never come had come again he might even have seen 
 her that very day, had he so chosen. Through his 
 open windows came the warm scent of the box in the 
 garden ; her own room must be just along in the wing 
 beyond ; and, though she was no longer here, the whole 
 place imaged in his heart her presence. He was in her 
 earthly mansion, he could walk in her paths, tend her 
 flowers, read her books, touch what she had touched. 
 And it seemed to the man, again, in some strange way, 
 that his soul became as hers, even to the loss of per 
 sonal identity ; it was no other thing than hers and 
 hers had its part in the Divine. Love speaks not 
 always grammar nor holds its exaltation blasphe 
 mous. 
 
 Of course he was out walking at the dawn. He 
 sought out every path he fancied her feet had trod 
 again he climbed the Laurel Run, a deeper purple 
 to-day than he had seen it those years before, for long 
 since, the frost had come. He had not to shut his eyes 
 to see her slender figure gliding through the beech 
 and birch, hardly even to see the glory of her gentle 
 face again now turned to his. He should write to her 
 to-day. Alas ! what could he say ? His poor cold 
 
 455
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 note, thanking her for her thoughtful telegram and 
 Mrs Warfield s hospitality, saying that he must stay 
 down a day or two until Hugh Michael should come 
 this was last written, only as the very sun rimmed 
 the eastern plain for first Charles Austin had writ 
 ten the letter that he would write to Mary had God 
 shaped this world to meet their mortal ends. All his 
 heart s blood went into this, all the pent-up fire within 
 his prison bars, the passion of a man, the adoration 
 of a poet, the love of a hero a score of closely 
 written pages that left his heart a waste, his pulses 
 calm, his soul as if shriven by the confession and 
 then (such follies will strong men do), closed care 
 fully and sealed, the other letter was mailed, and this 
 one he took up and buried buried in the crevice of 
 a precipice above the rock where she had sat that day. 
 Only Goethe, Shakespeare, Dante, have recorded such 
 a folly 
 
 Kollner was waiting for him at the mill. 
 
 LI 
 
 WHEN Austin had explained to Mrs Warfield 
 what a walking delegate was, she had 
 promptly visualized a conception of Mr Michael based 
 upon the comic newspapers. Short hair, a stout neck 
 
 456
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 with creases, and a stout paunch without, a large check 
 suit, a silk hat, and a blazing scarfpin were perhaps 
 its leading features. Judge, then, of the gentle 
 lady s surprise when she found herself led into dinner 
 by a pale young scholar whose black frock coat and 
 narrow tie made him seem rather like a preacher than 
 an agitator. " My interest in this case is extra-pro 
 fessional, you might even call it academic," he said 
 to Austin. Then, turning to Mrs Warfield : " I am 
 delegate of the Machinists Union. But Mr Pinckney 
 stands so high with all of us that anything he sug 
 gests then, too, we all know and admire Miss Rav- 
 enel " 
 
 " What does Mr Pinckney suggest ? " interrupted 
 the old lady. 
 
 Michael looked at Austin and smiled. 
 
 " I suggest a sympathetic strike," said Austin. 
 
 " I thought as much. And here you have been 
 lecturing us for two years that they are all wrong," 
 said the agitator. 
 
 " Hugh Michael, beware of the academic. All 
 great constitutional bodies have their war powers. 
 I need hardly point out that this is war. They 
 began it." 
 
 Michael nodded in unison to Austin s periods 
 with a smile. " All quite true. At least, I have 
 heard others say as much." 
 30 457
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " Not me, I suppose. Well," laughed Austin, 
 " I despise a hidebound consistency." 
 
 " And there ye re on broad human ground where 
 the Celt and Saxon can always meet." 
 
 " And I don t propose the Watch Trust shall 
 wipe out the homes of Laurel Run. In fact, if Mrs 
 Warfield will forgive me for saying so, I m damned 
 if they shall ! " 
 
 " Forgive you? I ll make it a toast. Take some 
 champagne, Mr Michael some champagne, Fritz. 
 Here s to your being I think you said? damned 
 if they shall. And the old lady s eyes danced with 
 fun. 
 
 " Besides, you know," Austin went on, " it won t 
 come to a strike. The whole Laurel Run output is 
 but a fleabite to them. The merest threat will be 
 enough." 
 
 " The threat must be heeled, all the same. You 
 lend me one or two of the women and Fritz here 
 (Michael had already got to calling Kollner Fritz) 
 and we ll have a little deputation to New York. Will 
 you come back with me to-morrow? No brass bands 
 only moral suasion." 
 
 Kollner colored with pleasure. " But you should 
 first see the works; you should study the condi 
 tions 
 
 " Oh, I ve got the conditions all right still, we ll 
 458
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 take to-morrow morning at the works and get up by 
 the evening train 
 
 That night Austin indulged himself in another 
 letter, to tell Miss Ravenel what they had done. The 
 missive bore no one of his buried words. The next 
 morning was spent in the factory and among the 
 homes of the watch people ; and Michael and Fritz 
 collected two others to serve with Fritz on their com 
 mittee one an older woman, left a widow with three 
 children, who had returned, to support them, to her 
 old employment at the works ; the other a fair Ger 
 man girl with eyes like a gentian and braids of hair 
 like ripe corn. Poor Kollner was in obvious excite 
 ment ; as they neared the great city it increased ; he 
 was continually moistening his parched lips ; Michael 
 attributed it to the coming ordeal before the Watch 
 makers Union, but Austin knew better. All three 
 were safely housed in a model lodging house recom 
 mended by Miss Ravenel (how did they hear of it? 
 Well, Austin had had a letter from her), and Austin, 
 resisting a strong temptation to be their escort to 
 the theatre, hurried with Michael to an evening meet 
 ing of the union. There, with Michael s help, the 
 matter was easily arranged ; " only," he said, " it 
 can t be for to-morrow. You must go through the 
 form of a mass meeting. And Fritz and Gretchen 
 and Mrs Lochmann must be introduced to their fel- 
 
 459
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 low-members of the union. All now depends on their 
 help." 
 
 "Haven t they got to be elected first?" 
 
 " Well, I wasn t quite so casual as you seemed to 
 think. I took a signed charter down with me in my 
 pocket, and organized a branch union at Laurel Run 
 that morning while you were out to walk- Kollner is 
 president, and Gretchen secretary. We re Organized 
 Labor all right ! " 
 
 Austin invited Kollner to meet him at the office 
 in the morning, and told him what car to take to get 
 to Wall Street. " And if I m not there just go into 
 the library and wait. Miss Aylwin will give you the 
 morning paper." Poor Austin wondered if he him 
 self blushed like that whenever the name of Miss Rav- 
 enel was mentioned he had long since dropped the 
 effort to have secrets with his own heart. But coming 
 down he found poor Fritz roaming disconsolately in 
 the outer office, and Miss Aylwin deeply absorbed in 
 her Remington. 
 
 He gave himself the afternoon, to show to Koll 
 ner the Bowery clubs, and then sent them all for a 
 drive in Central Park. He had wanted to ask Miss 
 Aylwin, but his courage had failed him. He proposed 
 himself to the Havilands for dinner, but no else was 
 there. They talked over poor Kollner s case. Yes, 
 there was a social difference, John admitted ; but she 
 
 460
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 had been too acutely conscious of it. " She keeps 
 me at a stern distance," laughed Austin, " but Koll- 
 ner she ignores. Who are the Watch Trust s attor 
 neys? " 
 
 " Well, you know the Watch Trust is a very secret 
 thing probably at the Albany capitol they would 
 deny its existence. The Geneva Company, the largest 
 manufacturers, floated an issue of bonds last year 
 it seemed unnecessarily large, even for them. Auer- 
 bach s firm placed the securities. Possibly, if they 
 heard something to their disadvantage, your friend 
 Markoff might turn up 
 
 " Where is Miss Ravenel? I have just come from 
 her place," Austin explained. 
 
 " Oh, she would go back to her lodgings. It must 
 be dreary enough, poor child, though little more so, 
 I suppose, since the old man bolted. Isn t that a 
 good picture of her? Grace made her have one 
 taken. Excuse me a moment ; I hear her calling 
 
 Austin looked at the soft carbon plate ; it showed 
 Miss Ravenel in a simple white frock, standing, with 
 eyes looking clearly ahead and a little upward, as if 
 at something that had suddenly attracted her atten 
 tion; but the artist had done full justice to the won 
 derful purity of her lips and eyes, the sweet, strong 
 brow, the gentleness of her pose. And he would have 
 given his earthly possessions to take it with him. He 
 
 461
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 dropped it hastily as Gracie entered ; he had more 
 fear of her than of John. 
 
 That night the Sun announced " exclusively " the 
 coming of a strike which would paralyze the watch 
 trade. Since the depression caused by the era of 
 bicycles, it was said, wages had never been restored 
 to their old level ; but throughout the returning pros 
 perity the discontent had been growing and was now 
 about to culminate. Then there was an " Interview 
 with Hugh Michael. The President of the Machin 
 ists Union Talks." But Austin observed that he 
 said nothing about the Laurel Run Watch Company. 
 At the mass meeting held that evening, to v, hich Aus 
 tin gladly sacrificed a millionaires dinner, the dele 
 gates from Ravenel were introduced as " exponents 
 of the conditions there now out of work through 
 modern methods." Kollner made an embarrassed ad 
 dress ; Mrs Lochmann spoke simply and impressively ; 
 but the enthusiasm of the evening rose to a climax 
 when Gretchen came forward to sing a simple Ger 
 man folk song so un-selfconsciously she did it. 
 Then the resourceful Michael had a stereopticon, 
 and already photographs of the homes at Laurel 
 Run, a group of all the factory girls, and a view 
 or two of the valley were thrown upon the screen. 
 Hugh Michael himself said something about the 
 general wages and condition of the watch busi- 
 
 462
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 ness: " And here you have just what we are all striv 
 ing for a condition of happy individual homes 
 owned by the workingmen the necessary power 
 brought to the door of each the plant owned by 
 the very workmen that have created it and just 
 because it is so perfect, because it is a living example 
 of the success of cooperation, and because it will not 
 join the Trust, the Money Power has sought to de 
 stroy it." Then Austin himself was put forward as 
 the intelligent friend to labor " well known to be 
 with them when they were right, against them when 
 they were wrong " and it was somehow understood 
 that he, Michael, and Kollner were appointed a com 
 mittee with full powers, and the meeting adjourned. 
 
 The next morning Austin was not surprised to 
 receive a visit from Mr Markoff . " I came," said he, 
 " about this ridiculous watch business, though I don t 
 see what you have to do with it." 
 
 " The Laurel Run Association own their own 
 business and works. It is a client of mine. I have 
 just been down there." 
 
 " Oh, that is why you left my house party," said 
 Markoff. " I should not have supposed the business 
 was important enough. Mrs Pinckney is still with 
 me However, I ve got nothing to do with the 
 Laurel Run people. I want to see the representa 
 tives of the Watchmakers Union." 
 
 463
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " Michael is in the next room. And Kollner, of 
 Laurel Run, is in the library, as it happens Miss 
 Aylwin ! " Austin had rung her bell. " I want you 
 to take down what I have to say But first, I wish 
 you d call Mr Kollner 
 
 " Stop, Austin this little affair had best be set 
 tled just between ourselves Miss Aylwin paused 
 irresolute. " I suppose you know that under the 
 New York Code a threat of a strike, an intimidation 
 to control another in the conduct of his business, to 
 the prejudice of a third party, is a penal offense 
 
 " That is precisely why I want Miss Aylwin to 
 take down what they say 
 
 " Perhaps you ll say it yourself," said Markoff. 
 
 Austin smiled. " Well, then to begin with, it s 
 not to the prejudice of a third party it s for its 
 benefit. The Watch Trust won t bill their goods to 
 any firm that deals with Laurel Run." 
 
 " Admitting which I don t admit that there is 
 a trust ; and admitting which I don t admit that 
 there is a boycott one illegality doesn t cure an 
 other. And aren t you getting up a pretty big boy 
 cott yourself? Haven t I heard you say that a boy 
 cott is always illegal? " 
 
 " This isn t a boycott only a strike," said 
 Austin. 
 
 " Well, haven t you condemned sympathetic 
 464
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 strikes to those very labor agitators you now 
 represent? " 
 
 " Any man or set of men has a right to combine 
 to better their own condition. This is a strike or 
 will be, if it comes to that of all the union watch 
 makers for higher wages." 
 
 " And I am to understand that it needn t come 
 to that if the Trust will do business with Laurel Run ? 
 Haven t I heard you say that while any man may 
 leave his work at any time, the concerted threat to do 
 so may be unlawful? " 
 
 " I don t know about threats. They may strike, 
 if they re not given higher wages." 
 
 " We are prepared to be reasonable on the wage 
 question if they will not paralyze the winter trade." 
 
 " If the Laurel Run people are treated fairly I 
 am sure they will be reasonable." Austin rang for 
 Michael and Fritz. 
 
 " The fact is, you fellows have got carte blanche," 
 laughed Markoff. " Well, that s what I call altru 
 ism. I must refer that to Felix Adler! Of course, 
 the Laurel Run concern is a mere fleabite to us. But 
 promise me, if we take off the boycott, this wages 
 business ceases? " 
 
 " I think Mr Michael can make no promise that 
 might be construed as a threat, you see." 
 
 " I see," laughed the amiable Markoff. " Well, 
 31 465
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 I m going back to Newport. Must at least bid my 
 guests good-by. Only next time, don t mount a 
 twelve-inch gun to hit a sandpiper ! " 
 
 " Your business is ended, Mr Kollner," said Aus 
 tin to that puzzled young Dutchman, who looked at 
 first as if it were too good to be true, and then, as 
 at some second thought, his face fell again. " You 
 can go back to-night. Or rather perhaps there are 
 some details to arrange I suppose Mrs Lochmann 
 can take Gretchen back? The works may start at 
 once." 
 
 " Sure " it was a rich guttural " I have some 
 supplies to purchase," the young man firmly added. 
 
 " Well, come in and see us every day." 
 
 A fellow-feeling makes us wondrous kind. But 
 that night Austin, as after every accomplishment, 
 felt cast down once more. Achievement was not frui 
 tion. Still, it was better than it had been ; at least 
 he had a heart in his work. So he went home and 
 took up the matter of a ship that was lost at sea. 
 Before doing so he wrote gently to Dorothy, beg 
 ging her to come home. Meantime, Mary Ravenel 
 was writing to him. 
 
 For she had, all unconsciously to herself, kept in 
 touch with all that Austin was doing. Why should 
 she not? Maidlike, she had persuaded herself that 
 there need be, that there was, no emotional relation. 
 
 466
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 The years had gone by, and this had easily come 
 about. Therefore she gave herself free rein to like 
 him as a friend. And now he had been doing her a 
 service he had found time, with all the claims upon 
 him, to do her this kindness. She had seen the settle 
 ment of the strike in the evening paper ; it must have 
 concerned Laurel Run ; she was too anxious to wait 
 to hear from Kollner or Mrs Warfield. She would 
 write to him why should she not? and ask him to 
 tell her. His letter had arrived only that morning 
 not a word in it that was not business. 
 
 Had she known the passionate joy her own note 
 caused, she might, one fears, have hesitated. Austin 
 had been hungering for her now nigh a year starv 
 ing for denial of her eyes. And surely, once a year 
 was not too often ? And now, at last, it came " I 
 am so anxious to hear what you have done," she wrote. 
 " Why will you not call for me, at Rivington Street, 
 and we can walk uptown? Any day will do, before 
 dark " Any day was to-day. 
 
 But ah, what iron self-control the man imposed 
 upon himself ! True, he went very early he meant to 
 beg for an extension of their walk, to the park he 
 was careful not to tell the tale too rapidly. She was 
 enthusiastic, happy as she walked at his side and, 
 O merciful God, how he loved her ! And yet, when 
 his eyes met hers, they dared reveal the inmost cham- 
 
 467
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 bers of his soul, for there dwelt no wrong in it ; and 
 it was hers, if she willed, to know the truth. A man 
 bares all the truth to the woman he truly loves. And 
 yet, perhaps I do not know it was the very sim 
 plicity of Austin s manner deceived her or did it? 
 At all events, the purest maiden may hold a truth at 
 arm s length ; a man not so. Yet they were so happy 
 at being together that they should have known. 
 
 The joy of that gray day seemed to blazon back 
 through many months of Austin s life ; it lightened 
 many months ahead. She spoke no more of Dorothy 
 to him ; when she referred to his own life there was a 
 tinge of something like compassion. But she led him 
 out to talk freely of himself. She had consented to 
 the park ramble ; but the early winter sunset came 
 so soon ! 
 
 " So it s all happily settled " she had said. 
 
 " All happily settled but do you know, Miss 
 Ravenel I wonder if you ever have that feeling 
 I mean, what next? What is the next thing to do? " 
 
 " I do not think I should, if I were a man- 
 There is politics, for instance. You know they want 
 to get Mr Haviland to run for mayor? Why don t 
 you take public office? You have seen what a trust 
 is If you were Attorney-General 
 
 " I might accomplish something," laughed Austin. 
 " Well, I d rather take the stump for John." 
 
 468
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 But that day had to last him many years. He 
 labored on at what they gave him ; not able himself to 
 choose his work in the world. What is there great 
 enough for a man to serve who may not serve his love? 
 But Mary felt that she had brought him and his wife 
 together, for a time and then had failed. And now 
 she thought of him alone. 
 
 Meantime John Haviland had been elected 
 Mayor of New York. And Austin Pinckney was 
 the District Attorney. He left, said the newspapers, 
 a lucrative practice to take the place. So Dorothy 
 had upbraided him for it. But it seemed that Dor 
 othy had lost her influence upon his life. 
 
 LII 
 
 IT was late one summer, in the Columbian Club ; no 
 time to be there, and the Major was undeniably 
 out of temper. He had been attending a meeting of 
 the Governing Committee, where he had been one of 
 three (all retired from business) to blackball Mr Au 
 gustus Markoff; and he had arrived so in the nick of 
 time and acted with such decision that his colleagues 
 had laughingly charged him with having returned 
 from Europe for the purpose. Even this virtuous 
 act had not restored to the Major his wonted serenity. 
 
 469
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 And his grounds for this personal bitterness remained 
 exasperatingly general. When reproached with hav 
 ing visited Markoff only two or three years be 
 fore, he merely intimated that that was precisely 
 when and where he had obtained that knowledge of 
 Markoff s character which gave him his indubitable 
 conviction that that gentleman was not qualified, by 
 use or custom or previous condition of gentility, to 
 become a member of the Columbian Club. 
 
 What made it the more of a shock was that Mark- 
 off had been proposed by no less a person than Petrus 
 Gansevoort. Only an oddly assorted pair had been 
 found to fly at the house of Gansevoort and join 
 Brandon in his dissent Mr John Haviland and Mr 
 Killian Van Kull. The latter merely asserted that he 
 was too (languidly) damnable a cad, in a voice that 
 had a plaintive dying fall. Yet his gentle blue eyes 
 met the Major s with a look that betrayed a mutual 
 understanding. It was suspected that they had both 
 been witnesses of something at that very Newport 
 house party, which had otherwise so assured Mark 
 off s social position. As for John, he had his busi 
 ness reasons ; moreover, he preferred in his favorite 
 club to meet Americans. And now he and the Major 
 and Van Kull were left alone while Gansevoort was 
 digesting the affront, after hotly telling Van Kull 
 there wasn t a decent room in Christendom that he 
 
 470
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 (Van Kull) ought to have a look into to which that 
 unruffled gentleman replied merely with the sugges 
 tion of a " cooler." Gansevoort then had turned 
 upon his heel. And the conversation, somehow, 
 turned to Dorothy. And the Major related to Van 
 Kull how the marriage had been brought about. 
 
 " Whoever would have thought she would pull 
 in double harness?" said he, as he ended. "She 
 looked as simple as But I always feared Pinckney 
 would forget, it s the ring finger carries the curb." 
 
 " If she ll only carry through to forty, she may 
 settle down," said Killian. 
 
 The Major shook his head. " She hasn t a noble 
 note in her register and he would make her his 
 divinity. She was a nice enough little girl with a 
 look of race a small head is a great beauty, in 
 women or horses. She was a pretty thing, many a 
 man might have idolized her ; he idealized her. Women 
 know their place; we should have kept them there. 
 She might have been the favorite in a harem 
 
 " Oh, come," laughed John. " She s not so bad 
 as that." 
 
 " The virtue of a woman and of an egg admits of 
 no degrees," sententiously replied the Major. " The 
 moment she steps out of her shrine, she is lost to a 
 man like Pinckney. Oh, I know em all from Eve 
 to Mary." 
 
 471
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " A man may know em all and not know any 
 one," said the lady-killer. 
 
 " You had better say, from Ashtaroth to Helen," 
 Haviland interposed. " I ll admit there s not much 
 range between those two." 
 
 " Well, she s in their class " growled Brandon. 
 
 " I m not so sure," rejoined the professional. 
 " If it were her sister, now But he checked him 
 self. " Pinckney s a good fellow." And he took his 
 leave. 
 
 " I thought the boy would have changed every 
 thing," then said John. 
 
 " He has, for Austin I think the baby seems to 
 her an an anachronism," said the Major, feeling for 
 a word. " I know she was very much astounded. 
 Mrs Ilastacq told me so, when she discovered it, at 
 Newport I think Mamie before that had been afraid 
 something was going to happen she telegraphed 
 me to come the only thing that happened was to 
 see this Markoff get set down I wasn t needed. 
 Gad, it was well done, though!" and the Major 
 chuckled. 
 
 " What are you to do in these duelless days ? " 
 mused Haviland. " It would be ridiculous to chal 
 lenge a Markoff." 
 
 " He might be clever enough to accept it it 
 would improve his social standing. What would you
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 do, Austin? " The Major spoke quite placidly, but 
 Haviland started as the younger man came up behind 
 them. He felt ashamed that they had been discussing 
 his wife. 
 
 " Do when? " said Pinckney. He was grayer 
 than when we saw him last, just after that autumn 
 in the Rockies. And Haviland now was Mayor of 
 New York. John went on, speaking more freely as 
 Killian walked away. 
 
 " When I don t speak in my official capacity 
 a fellow like Markoff, for instance, makes himself 
 too personally obnoxious compromises a young 
 lady, or persecutes a woman in whom you take an 
 interest 
 
 " Not speaking in my official capacity as District 
 Attorney I think I should shoot him." 
 
 " But suppose he won t stand for it? You 
 can t assassinate him. Or suppose the young lady 
 took his side? It would do no good to kick 
 him " 
 
 " A slap in the face, though, administered with 
 discreet publicity " suggested the Major. 
 
 " No publicity would be necessary," said Austin 
 quietly. " Duels made manners, but they didn t 
 create right and wrong. A man in the wrong is 
 always a coward. But he needs " 
 
 "A good knockdown blow?" 
 473
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " I should fell him like an ox," said Austin 
 gravely. 
 
 " What a thing it is to hail from South Carolina 
 and have no sense of humor," chuckled Brandon. 
 " Egad, I believe he means it." 
 
 " I certainly do," said Austin. 
 
 " All we Northerners can do is to blackball him," 
 laughed John. 
 
 " Oh, I wasn t thinking of Markoff," said the 
 Major. And Austin wondered who he meant. 
 
 " Well," said Haviland, as he rose, " I must go. 
 I have a sadder errand. I am going down to Mary 
 land. Old Mrs Warfield is dead." 
 
 Pinckney made no motion, but all color left his 
 face. The Major took up the talking. 
 
 " Yes, I know, Miss Ravenel s grandmother. 
 The poor girl s left quite destitute, I fear." 
 
 " Not entirely," said John. " She has a little 
 trust fund. Of course, she must give up Ravenel. 
 Good-by to you." 
 
 " Good-by," said the Major. 
 
 " Good-by," said Austin Pinckney. 
 
 " Have some brandy and soda with me," said the 
 Major when the other had left. Austin not answer 
 ing, he poured it out himself. Austin drained the 
 tumbler. Then there was a silence. The September 
 twilight came on and the servants came to light the 
 
 474
 
 room ; they were still in the club committee room, 
 where Austin had found the Major; he waved the 
 servants away. 
 
 " Brandon, I must go to Ravenel." 
 
 "Your wife?" 
 
 " My wife will be away she is going to-morrow 
 to Gansevoort s house party." 
 
 The Major let his glass crash to the floor. 
 
 " Your wife He spoke slowly. " You let 
 her go to Petrus Gansevoort s?" 
 
 " I can do nothing. You know I cannot pre 
 vent it." 
 
 " Then you can go there too." 
 
 " I will not go to that man s house." 
 
 The Major knew when it was useless to press a 
 case. He responded only with a long silence. And 
 then it was with a change of venue. 
 
 " My boy, do not make me your father confessor 
 but do you think you can do her any good at 
 Ravenel?" 
 
 Austin did not look back at the Major, as he 
 walked away. And the Major sat there alone in the 
 gathering twilight. Austin, coming into the street, 
 felt his steps reel ; then he sought his home, like any 
 wounded animal its hole. 
 
 The reader has been told possibly too plainly 
 that his had been a marriage of desire and not of 
 
 475
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 the moth for the star. With all his intellect, he had 
 never seen this for himself only, in the shock of the 
 first morning after, for one moment he had felt, not 
 thought it then Nature, in her normal purity, Na 
 ture, which is our polite term for God, had wound 
 her green ivies around the scarred places of his soul, 
 sown her balm of blossoms where the ruins crumbled 
 into mold 
 
 But to the Major, sitting there to-night, it had 
 all become too plain. " God ! " he muttered to him 
 self, " they might have come together and parted 
 like any wedding of the street corner for any effect 
 it had on her they might have lived a week together 
 and a few years later Dorothy would have forgotten 
 him had she met him in the street not so, alas ! the 
 man. Had they so met, so parted, she had been the 
 same in a week, in a day. It had been but a marriage 
 of the senses, with her at least ; with him at the worst 
 had been some glamour of knight-errantry And 
 he, the Major, old man of the world, had grasped at 
 it for the ideal of romance he still had dreamed 
 despite his world s denial. " If only Gansevoort had 
 been better looking ! " 
 
 Yet all that night, in Austin s breast, the strug 
 gle went on. And only with the sunrise came his 
 decision that the Major was right. He had not un 
 dressed; but now he got into morning clothes and 
 
 476
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 went out to post the letter he had written. He would 
 go to Gansevoort s. Meantime Dorothy was busy 
 with her ball dresses. 
 
 LIII 
 
 ALL the year Mrs Warfield s health had been 
 failing. She had not insisted on Mary s 
 staying in New York, so she had given up her classes 
 and stayed with her grandmother all winter. It had 
 been very severe; for almost the first time in their 
 records the snow so banked up the avenue that access 
 to the railway was difficult. She spent much of the 
 time reading aloud to her grandmother. The faith 
 ful Freddy wrote to her, Gracie Haviland often, and 
 now Mrs Rastacq. From Austin she heard not a 
 word. He was hard at work at politics, devoted to 
 his child ; his wife, Mamie wrote, had resumed her 
 place in the world of fashion. 
 
 With the coming of the hot weather her grand 
 mother grew weaker. There was no question of any 
 house parties now. She could hardly have a girl 
 come to stay as her companion. Miss Brevier came, 
 for a part of June; Miss Aylwin for her two weeks 
 vacation in August. Of her father she had heard 
 nothing since his marriage. 
 
 477
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 She occupied herself, as was her wont, among the 
 people of the countryside. She took much comfort 
 in the Laurel Run colony, and in their gratitude ; 
 the factory now was running happily again ; much 
 of her time was spent there; poor Fritz, alone, was 
 very melancholy. Too well aware that it was her last 
 year at Ravenel, she took all the old walks for the last 
 time ; up through the gorge, to all the summits of the 
 Laurel mountains, through the pastures, by the mills. 
 Her heart seemed sensitized to every picture. 
 
 Querulously, sometimes, the old lady would now 
 speak of Mr Wiston, of other men she heard of. 
 Mary could only shake her head. " I fear I am not 
 a woman who is likely to marry." It was all she 
 would say. Who can say what is in a young girl s 
 heart? A woman s, now, it kept its secrets, even 
 from herself. Certainly, she would have liked to hear 
 from Austin, from all her friends. 
 
 She tried bravely not to feel that she was lonely. 
 But here she had so little work to do ! After all, it 
 was best, perhaps, that the life at Ravenel should 
 end. The old lawyer, from Baltimore, came out one 
 afternoon to make Mrs Warfield s will. She had little 
 to leave, said the old lady, but she did not propose 
 that Miles Breese should get any of the family por 
 traits. The place would have to be sold as a simple 
 farm. One would suppose, sighed old lady Warfield, 
 
 478
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 with its beauty, its tradition, its famous gardens, 
 trees, it would be just the place for some new-made 
 millionaire. But they had other uses for their money. 
 " Perhaps," laughed Mary, " they fear that I go 
 with the place." Neither one made any secret of the 
 elder s coming end; she herself was weary of the 
 world, the granddaughter not living in it. 
 
 " Sometimes," said the old lady, " I think you 
 are living in a dream." And then, she might add 
 to herself, " Better so, than like her mother." But 
 Mary was living in no dream. On the contrary, she 
 thought herself hard at work in the world. She had 
 never seen the man she liked so much as Austin Pinck- 
 ney, that was all. To her, marriage was the holiest 
 of sacraments. Until it came to her as such, she 
 would wait. She neither despaired nor repined. A 
 shallower nature might have sought a convent. Half 
 Catholic as she was, she did not care for convents. 
 She had things yet to do in the world. Her service 
 was perfect freedom. 
 
 She knew that she had been of use to many a 
 poor young girl, perhaps even to a more difficult 
 spirit, to Miss Aylwin, to Mrs Rastacq ; a little, alas ! 
 to Dorothy ; even as it might please God, to Austin 
 Pinckney. All was well, with him and her, she fan 
 cied, now. But she would not think much about her 
 self. When her grandmother was through with her, 
 
 479
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 she would take a book into the garden and come in, 
 at the sunset, with a face that had looked on visions. 
 Then old lady Warfield would look at her through 
 narrowed eyes. " She is the most beautiful girl in 
 the world," she would mutter to herself. " That I 
 should be alone to see it ! " 
 
 But old lady Warfield was not alone to see it. 
 Austin had thought so for half a lustrum, and once 
 he had trembled and grown hot and cold lest it should 
 be seen of other men. He had long ceased thinking 
 of this now ; it was not her beauty that mattered. 
 Marion Rastacq thought so, but then she loved Mary 
 Ravenel as she loved nothing else in the world. Nobly 
 she strove to make her marry. Perhaps her beauty 
 was not of the sort that attracts young men. Then, 
 she had no money ; and the modern New York man 
 is well under the glamour of wealth, has learned the 
 lesson to " go where money is." But even as she 
 gave herself these reasons, Mamie would laugh at 
 them. There were still brave hearts enough, not sub 
 dued to money-making, to beat for such as Mary 
 Ravenel. Mamie ten years older would look at 
 Mary s eyes with a dumb worship that would have 
 been funny had it not been true. They still had their 
 wonderful shadowy blue of a mountain lake, now deep 
 azure as it is ruffled by the wind, now shifting to pale 
 sapphire as it sleeps at dawn, or even to the dove 
 
 480
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 color of a sky overcast. Mamie, too, could study 
 her face which Austin never could although to 
 him the pure pale brow was as the hope of heaven. 
 She was taller than Mamie, and as they walked home 
 side by side would fend aside the branches in the wood 
 path. " They are getting sadly overgrown," she 
 said. To the old negro, watching them from the 
 garden with his rake, they seemed to close about her 
 as she vanished in the shadow. 
 
 This was on a day in Mamie s visit, and that night, 
 very quietly, the old lady died. Mamie stayed on 
 several days ; the Havilands came down for the fune 
 ral; Major Brandon sent a kindly letter; something 
 in it changed Mamie s plans, and she returned with 
 the Havilands, promising to come back again after 
 keeping one necessary engagement. " I like Major 
 Brandon," Mary had answered. She never queried 
 her friends motives. Miss Ravenel had also a letter 
 from Mr Pinckney, but of this she did not speak. 
 
 When they were gone, Mary set herself in good 
 earnest to dismantle the house. No time for weak 
 ness now. The pictures were taken down and packed, 
 the furniture for the most part given away ; but the 
 books were more of a problem. It is dreary work, 
 looking over dusty old books. It is dreary work, 
 sitting in an autumn garret. 
 
 In the midst of it the equinoctial storm began. 
 481
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 The crisp leaves rattled along the garden flags, the 
 rain descended ; Mary had to stay indoors. No mat 
 ter, it was just the day to work in the library. And 
 she was glad that she was alone. 
 
 One can get very tired reading the backs of old 
 books ; perhaps a little sad if one opens them. It is 
 better not to look at the flyleaves. Hours passed, 
 and Miss Ravenel still sat there. Now and then she 
 would read a little, but the old bookplates could not 
 but remind her of the hopes of those long dead. They 
 all bore Ravenel or Warfield arms ; an early copy of 
 Walter Scott had underneath it, proudly written, 
 " Guy Ravenel, Commodore, U. S. N.," with a sketch 
 of the then new flag, the stars in a circle. Here, 
 too, were some books of her dead brother s " Miles 
 Breese, Jr." and the Gaelic motto of the Welsh 
 ap Rhys, who, emigrating, had changed their patro 
 nymic to the English Breese. Here now was another 
 book of older fashion a quaint old copy of Ossian. 
 She took it down ; it had no bookplate. Suddenly 
 she started with surprise. On the flyleaf, in a man s 
 hand, was written, " Mary Ravenel Warfield, from 
 Charles Austin Pinckney, Newport, August, 1843." 
 
 As she read the signature the door opened she 
 had but time to put the book hastily down beside her 
 as the old porter announced with his simplest dig 
 nity, " Mr Pinckney, miss." 
 
 482
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 And pale and storm beaten, Austin strode into 
 the room. 
 
 LIV 
 
 WHEN the thought first occurred to Dorothy 
 that it was not too late for her to marry 
 Petrus Gansevoort, it had been at Markoff s house, 
 three years before. There was much of what the 
 Major would have called the eternal feminine about 
 Dorothy ; of the woman whose nature it is to turn 
 to the strongest, or, failing in that, the richest, lord. 
 She was very impressionable by the splendor of 
 wealth; very sensitive to what she considered social 
 position and the adulation it evokes in others. Up 
 to the morning after that card party she had formu 
 lated no plan ; her speech about divorce to Austin had 
 been but a cri de cceur born of the consciousness of 
 her regret. She had been brooding over it for days. 
 How blind she had been! Austin had just happened 
 to be there. He had taken advantage of her youth, 
 her inexperience. How much more logical, to her 
 mature mind, it now appeared, to have married the 
 duke (for Gansevoort was quite the equal of an Eng 
 lish duke) even at the risk of some day taking Austin 
 for a lover. She would not have minded being un 
 faithful to Pete Gansevoort, but somehow, even now, 
 
 483
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 she could not bear to be untrue to Austin. Of course, 
 a divorce would be different. That would be no dis 
 honor; and they might part friends. Yet why had 
 she ever married him ! Silly girl, she had cared for 
 Austin s looks as if looks mattered in a man. So 
 Dorothy began to eat her heart out, as a Satan s 
 penitent. 
 
 Then, to her horror, she had become conscious 
 of the baby. It stopped everything. She had never 
 much cared for children ; she certainly did not want 
 one now. Austin s happiness almost exasperated her. 
 It was too silly. One thing, she must see no more of 
 Gansevoort at present. Of course, a divorce would 
 now be ridiculous. And then, Markoff had presumed 
 to make love to her again for the third time, she 
 remembered. True, she had had to encourage him on 
 the second occasion, but this time it was in his own 
 house and Gansevoort was present. So she had now 
 had to snub him, and that in Gansevoort s presence, 
 for a private snub to Markoff did no good. True, 
 Van Kull had assisted her, but it was all very unpleas 
 ant. This was on that very Sunday evening when 
 Austin had gone away. It had made her longer stay 
 at Markoff s house impossible, and on the Tuesday 
 morning she had left. With Major Brandon she had 
 come back to New York to find Austin absent at 
 Laurel Run, the office told her. For Markoff had 
 
 484
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 quietly lied to Austin about it ; he wished to see on 
 what terms this married couple stood. It was a way 
 of finding out that she did not write to him. And 
 Dorothy did not know or care where Laurel Run 
 might be. 
 
 Gansevoort had followed her. That was the only 
 encouraging thing about it. But she would not see 
 him, in her present condition. She would hibernate. 
 He called at the house in vain. So she had awaited 
 Austin s return ; and, Austin more than willing, they 
 had taken a house at Asheville for that winter. 
 There in the following May the baby had been born. 
 John Haviland was his godfather, and Armitage had 
 sent a cup ! 
 
 The early part of the next summer had been spent 
 near Paris. Then, in August, with her mother and sis 
 ter, she had returned to Newport. Daisy s husband 
 had been pensioned off, and she now enjoyed the title 
 unencumbered. She was a perfectly good mar 
 chioness ; and, that summer at Newport, only the 
 Countess of Birmingham ranked higher. A mar- 
 quisate is higher than an earldom, but somehow Kitty 
 Birmingham took precedence; to be sure, she was a 
 licensed beauty. There were no American duchesses 
 as yet. The following winter they all spent abroad ; 
 all, of course, except Austin. And then for a second 
 summer they had come to Newport again. They had 
 
 485
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 now been married seven years, and she was not yet 
 twenty-five. 
 
 Austin had not thought wise to oppose Dorothy 
 in her plan of the Paris visits, though he refused to 
 send the baby twice across the Atlantic. His aunt 
 Austin welcomed them both, and even the two nurses, 
 in the Lenox house. Then, when his wife returned 
 each year, they had joined her and Mrs Somers in 
 Newport. Dorothy always brought back a trunkful 
 of baby clothes from Paris, and Daisy was fond of 
 playing with the infant. Dorothy did not see why 
 Austin was so changed. It made her nervous about 
 herself, until Killian reassured her. Markoff, too, was 
 more attentive than ever. She was glad of that, he 
 entertained so much these years. After all, his offense 
 had not been of a nature to cause Dorothy to bear 
 malice ; particularly as it raised her in Gansevoort s 
 estimation. And at Markoff s house she always met 
 Gansevoort. She could bewitch him still she was 
 sure of that. Even his vanity had been overcome. 
 For, in the autumn of this third year, had come the in 
 vitation to the great house party at Gansevoort 
 manor. And she had simply told her husband her re 
 solve to go. She had expected his refusal, but she 
 had hoped for threats. She would have liked him to 
 strike her. He was too blameless for this world. 
 
 Well, if he would not get a divorce, she would. 
 486
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 He was, she fancied, exceptionally moral ; but, in 
 Dakota, desertion would do. She did not dare con 
 sult Markoff ; but she thought it could be made out 
 desertion when he let her go alone to Paris. It was 
 well, though, that she had come back when she did. 
 Other women were after Gansevoort, she could see 
 that. Petrus Gansevoort, at forty, was all that was 
 desirable -matrimonially. It was easy enough for 
 her to get them away. Unmarried girls could not 
 venture where she might go ; and there was not a 
 married one that stood a chance with her. For with 
 her Gansevoort had really been was still, she saw 
 in love. 
 
 Markoff, she feared, saw through her plan. 
 Would he help or hinder ? He might want Dorothy 
 did not so phrase it his little commission. She was 
 sorry that she had been so rude to him. Taking a 
 favor, he might be trusted to lie about it ; and he did 
 not want to marry her. She knew he was to be of 
 the house party. Who else? The Austrian ambas 
 sadress, Kitty Birmingham, she heard ; and, to her 
 surprise, Mamie Rastacq. There were to be no un 
 married girls ; that was encouraging. Evidently, 
 the party was got up for her ! The game was in her 
 own hands. 
 
 Then, to her dismay, Austin came home and said 
 that he was coming too. She had only stopped at the 
 
 487
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 New York house to change her wardrobe and this had 
 happened; Austin was supposed to be in Lenox. 
 There was nothing to be said; he had already tele 
 graphed his change of plan. (" D d impudence," 
 
 growled Gansevoort when he got the dispatch. Why 
 couldn t he bastile the husband, as the Louis s did 
 in the French memoirs he was most familiar with? 
 Gansevoort had never read Thackeray ; but he felt 
 himself quite as above " the attorney " as any Mar 
 quis of Steyne. It was rather a pity he had not read 
 his Thackeray, by the way. He ought to have known 
 something of Rawdon Crawley!) 
 
 Dorothy, however, merely contented herself with 
 saying that she did not like to leave the baby alone ; 
 to which Austin replied that the nurse was trust 
 worthy. Austin had been nurse to the boy those last 
 three summers. So they went up, with Mrs Rastacq 
 and the English countess, in Gansevoort s private car ; 
 Markoff was expected, but to Austin s relief he sent 
 an explanatory telegram that the car might not wait ; 
 the only other people were the Jimmy de Witts and 
 a dago prince. The present Mrs de Witt, that is, 
 " Baby " Thomas geboren, sometime Mrs Ten Eyck 
 and sometime Mrs Malgam; after Pussy de Witt s 
 divorce she had climbed into her place, and patronized 
 Dorothy most insufferably. The world had been sur 
 prised at Jimmy s marrying her ; hardly more so than 
 
 488
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 that gentleman himself. Dorothy sat next Prince 
 Castiglione, while Austin, finding that the countess 
 was New York born, tried to talk to her ; but his mind 
 was elsewhere, Dorothy could see, and she wondered 
 why he had come. She tried to reflect whether it 
 would make any difference to Gansevoort, that is. 
 On the one hand, it might irritate him incite him 
 though the triumph was now so stale, the husband 
 might touch his vanity. But secretly she doubted 
 Gansevoort s courage well, she would have to be 
 the bolder. 
 
 They had dinner on the car unexceptionally 
 cooked and served such things were more real to 
 her as she grew older. De Witt took too much wine, 
 at which the abstemious Italian looked puzzled ; he 
 devoted himself to Mrs Rastacq, while Dorothy talked 
 with Baby, so that, de Witt incapacitated, the hand 
 some countess was left for her husband. He seemed 
 to like her, and Dorothy felt glad of it ; he was so in 
 sensible to other women! For Dorothys, once ladies 
 of a good man s heart, most tranquilly assume their 
 ladyship eternal. It would be a comfort, indeed, to 
 have him take things more easily. And Dorothy had 
 tried, and tried in vain, to do, in her thoughts, injus 
 tice to her husband. But the countess might occupy 
 him, at all events ; and Dorothy, when they arrived at 
 midnight, was careful not to ask Austin for his help, 
 32 489
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 but accompanied the de Witts and Prince Castiglione 
 into the first carriage, leaving Austin to squire the 
 two great ladies in the second. The maids came after, 
 in an omnibus. 
 
 Dorothy was first from the carriage, leaving 
 Mrs de Witt to help her own husband ; she sprang 
 lightly up the great marble steps and gave Mr Gan- 
 sevoort just the chance he wanted to press her hand 
 and say a particular word in her ear. It was a hope 
 and a regret, and she accepted both serenely. Then 
 he turned to the others and apologized for not meet 
 ing them at the train. " We were still at dinner, 
 and my mother would not hear of it." That por 
 tentous lady appeared to confirm his statement, and 
 Dorothy, for the first time in ten years, met her. 
 She had been afraid of her before, and she was more 
 afraid now. It was evident, too, from the stately 
 chill of her greeting, that she was an unwelcome 
 guest. And Dorothy bit her lip and resolved, now, 
 that she would marry him. 
 
 Mrs Gansevoort led the countess to the drawing- 
 room, where the guests already arrived scanned the 
 newcomers, still in their traveling clothes, with the 
 usual latent hostility that a house party shows to 
 new arrivals. The others could bear their gaze with 
 equanimity ; Dorothy felt self-conscious. She wished 
 now there had been a young girl or two, if only as 
 
 490
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 a screen. But she felt relieved when she saw their 
 rooms. It was evident that their host had had his way 
 there. The apartment dedicated to the countess was 
 not finer. 
 
 The days, for Dorothy, went by on wings. Yet 
 she made rapid progress. Even Markoff stood aside. 
 Here, at last, was the milieu she belonged in. She felt 
 that she was born to be mistress of this great house ; 
 how could she ever have doubted it? Petrus Ganse- 
 voort evidently thought so too. She never looked 
 at him that she did not meet his eager eyes. He put 
 her next him at dinner as often (he told her) as he 
 dared. On the rides or drives he preferred driving 
 she was always his companion. She felt sure of 
 herself. Everyone saw it. They left him to her. 
 Only Mrs Rastacq sometimes interfered. 
 
 She did not encourage him, she did more; she 
 excited him. When he ventured on flirtation, she 
 drew back with a sigh. Then he would become lyrical. 
 Still, the days went by. Gansevoort s mind was un- 
 inventive. It was a case for a woman s contrivance. 
 
 So it came to the last evening of their visit. The 
 others were safely occupied at bridge. She permitted 
 Gansevoort to lure her to the terrace. It was a warm 
 September evening, and the moonlight made it almost 
 as light as day. She was determined it should happen 
 now. He did not seem to know where to begin. An 
 
 491
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 hour passed, and Mamie Rastacq came by and saw 
 them. Dorothy feared she would stay ; but, for once, 
 she had the tact to leave them alone. At last he took 
 her hand, and this time she did not repel him. But 
 her delicate fingers lay passively in his clumsy ones. 
 At last she complained of the cold and sent him for 
 a wrap. 
 
 She hastily reflected what to do. A curious recol 
 lection came over her of that old day with Austin. 
 Only, she had a doubt if she could be moved to tears 
 or this man be moved by them. She walked to a 
 darker place, above the great marble steps, under the 
 glass roof. As she heard him following her she stood 
 erect ; lifting her arms to the pillar, above her head, 
 she leaned a burning face upon them ; the man ap 
 proached stealthily and drew the lace about her 
 shoulders, about her neck her hot cheeks felt his 
 fingers, then his lips. She called him by his first 
 name. He sought her lips 
 
 " Darling, you must not till we are married " 
 But on the word his lips met hers and crushed them. 
 
 When she disengaged herself, there was a silence. 
 The man had been trembling ; he was now panting. 
 Finally, she had to speak. 
 
 " When I get my divorce " 
 
 Gansevoort started. Then he sought to clasp her 
 in his arms again. She shrank from him still. 
 
 492
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " When I have come back from Dakota." 
 
 " Dearest, who wants you to go to Dakota? 
 Don t let me lose these precious moments When 
 your husband goes back to-morrow " 
 
 Dorothy had a quick sense that her surrender had 
 placed her at a disadvantage. " When we are mar 
 ried " 
 
 " Kiss me again." Clumsily he sought to silence 
 her. The phrasing stung her pride; she drew back 
 haughtily. " You are insulting ! " 
 
 " Well," said Gansevoort, abashed Then he 
 saw that she was crying, and it emboldened him. 
 " Well, who spoke of marriage ? I wanted to marry 
 you once Now I am not a marrying man " 
 
 The horror of the rebuff made the poor girl 
 faint. Again he leaned over her. Helplessly she sank 
 to a chair, and he tried to draw her to him just as 
 Austin appeared ; Mamie Rastacq, behind him, vanish 
 ing back in the doorway. 
 
 There was no explanation Gansevoort had but 
 time to rise to his feet when a blow sent his heavy body 
 crashing down the marble steps. The sound attracted 
 footmen from the vestibule. Austin bade them pick 
 their master up and led his wife into the house. And 
 then, in the anteroom, the first room on their way to 
 the bridge party, they found poor Mamie fainting 
 on the floor. As Dorothy bent down to help her, she 
 
 493
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 shrieked ; she seemed to be hysterical. Puzzled, Aus 
 tin looked about him ; the servants were all on the 
 terrace below. Mamie shrieked again. But, as Dor 
 othy bent over her with smelling salts, she whispered, 
 calmly enough, " Have they taken him away? " 
 
 " He is not much hurt," said Pinckney, looking 
 out. " He is walking." Whereupon Mamie gave an 
 other violent cry. Sounds were heard from the card 
 room. 
 
 " Tell the people I have had a fainting fit, and a 
 fall," she whispered hurriedly. " You must take me 
 home, to my own house, I mean." 
 
 At last her cries attracted the other guests, who 
 came running out, Markoff the first. Mrs Rastacq 
 had now become very weak. Austin had to explain 
 the situation. " My heart," was all poor Mamie could 
 say, pressing her hand to that organ. 
 
 " Where is Mr Gansevoort ? " asked Markoff. 
 
 " He is gone to the village for a doctor," said 
 Mamie between her gasps. And with much sympathy 
 and tender handling the fair lady was conveyed up 
 stairs. She preferred, she said, to see the medical 
 man in her own room. Meantime, she would have only 
 Dorothy attend her. So she was left with her, the 
 others hovering outside. " Send for your maid and 
 have her pack your things," she then found a chance 
 to say. " You must both come home with me. The 
 
 494
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 doctor will say it is a serious illness, and I must be 
 in my own house. Call your husband first." 
 
 Still tearful, Dorothy complied. She was glad 
 of the chance to speak to Austin ; so far, she had 
 not dared. 
 
 " Mr Pinckney," said Mamie when they both 
 came in, " I saw it all. The man is a brute, and I 
 want you to know your wife was not to blame. But 
 you must of course come away with me." 
 
 Austin only bowed in silence. But coming out, 
 he saw that the women had gone to bed and the men 
 to the billiard room. In the hall he met the head foot 
 man ; it was he that had picked his master up. Austin 
 pressed a large bank note in his hand. 
 
 " Tell Mr Gansevoort to drive to the village for 
 a doctor," said he. " We are going by the early 
 train." 
 
 The man bowed respectfully. 
 
 In two hours they were out of the house. 
 
 LV 
 
 IT would have seemed a strange relation that found 
 these three together, but that a man in the world 
 gets over considering strange relations. The Eng 
 lish, say the French, have a horror of defined situa- 
 
 495
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 tions ; if so, it is a feminine trait in them ; for women, 
 good and evil, the best perhaps the most, shrink from 
 defining them. But to Mrs Rastacq, after all, it was 
 a situation that concerned only the others ; the only 
 embarrassment was conversational. Dorothy was 
 probably beyond the stage of embarrassment ; her 
 silence betokened a new humility. And Austin, to 
 Mrs Rastacq s surprise, it may be admitted, was the 
 least self-conscious of the three. So it was entirely 
 without embarrassment that he found himself in the 
 attitude of employing Mamie in the capacity of 
 spiritual trained nurse to his wife. 
 
 Austin had not seen all that happened; he had 
 only seen enough to infer Gansevoort the aggressor ; 
 but such aggression implies provocation. Naturally 
 he had overheard nothing of the conversation, nor 
 would he have condescended to do so had the oppor 
 tunity offered. Mamie was perhaps less chivalrous 
 and better informed; but she loyally reiterated the 
 view that Pinckney naturally accepted. Dorothy s 
 thoughts may not yet be formulated. Mrs Rastacq 
 had to keep up the conversation. 
 
 The sun rose even as they were driving through 
 Gansevoort s splendid park. Not content with the 
 old domain of the manor he had expropriated the 
 tenants of some thousands of acres, which his ances 
 tors had been content to let as farming land, and 
 
 496
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 handed it over to his foresters and landscape gar 
 deners; enabled easily to bear the expense of thus 
 laying waste a hundred farms by the increment of 
 rental of some dozens of the blocks he owned in New 
 York City. Dorothy had marveled at the splendor 
 of it the day before ; to-day she looked at the valleys 
 and hills, the blazing shrubbery and scarlet woods, 
 with dulled eyes, color blind. Austin appeared to be 
 quite indifferent to his surroundings. Even Mrs 
 Rastacq did not think it in good taste to admire them. 
 
 On the train, it was better; they found, in the 
 Pullman, an empty compartment and had coffee. 
 Austin had sternly refused to order any refreshment 
 at Gansevoort Manor. But Mamie had ordered some 
 thing in her own room and called in Dorothy to share 
 it. Her interview with the doctor had been private. 
 Doctors have to tell many lies. 
 
 Austin had breathed a sigh of relief as they drove 
 under Gansevoort s great gates ; before them was the 
 railway station, the open road; he had just had time 
 to telegraph Miss Austin ; then, after their coffee, 
 he had found an empty compartment, and smoked 
 and watched the pleasant country rolling by. It may 
 already be doubted whether Petrus Gansevoort was 
 uppermost in his mind. 
 
 Then, at noon, they came to Albany and had to 
 change into a local train. There Mrs Rastacq wrote 
 33 497
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 a long telegram to Mrs Gansevoort ; the old lady, 
 fortunately, had been safely in bed at the time; 
 Mamie bade Austin send it and asked him to read it 
 as he did so. " Am bearing the journey, but shall 
 not be able to write for some days." And at her own 
 station, where her carriage met them, Austin got an 
 answer to his telegram to his aunt. " Baby very well, 
 of course send Dorothy up at once." He showed it 
 to Mrs Rastacq. Mamie said that she thought Dor 
 othy had better be a few days with her. Antoine, 
 fortunately, was off yachting. 
 
 Dorothy was taken to her room and given tea, 
 and her maid left in charge ; then Mamie went to 
 Austin downstairs. She found him still in his over 
 coat, his portmanteau at the front door. " I have 
 ventured to detain your coachman," he said. " I 
 must go on to New York to-night." 
 
 Mamie looked at him, ready to demur ; his attitude 
 was not demurrable. She was rather afraid of him. 
 Then, in her quick mind, she reflected ; anything was 
 better than an eclair cissement. " Well," she said, " I 
 will take care of Dorothy." 
 
 " She ought to go to Lenox as soon as pos 
 sible." 
 
 " You know," said Mamie demurely, " I must get 
 well first. But as soon as the doctor will let me travel. 
 I could take her over in the new machine. It has just 
 
 498
 
 come from Paris and Antoine says will travel thirty 
 miles an hour. Where shall you be? " 
 
 " I shall stay about New York for a few 
 days " 
 
 " You know, I don t think you are likely to hear 
 from Mr Gansevoort 
 
 " Well, I shall be at the office." 
 
 " And then come up to Lenox ? " 
 
 " Perhaps." Again Mamie Rastacq looked at 
 Austin and again decided it was best to give him time. 
 
 But to Austin, speeding in the warm sunset down 
 the river bank, the events of the week might have been 
 the events of ten years before. He had gone through 
 with it ; and now it was over. He was no longer anx 
 ious about his wife. Another care lay deeper at his 
 heart, an anxiety to which no step of his own could 
 bring relief. And it was this anxiety that now re 
 curred. His hands were bound. She might be suffer 
 ing and he could not help her, starving and he could 
 not succor her, perishing and he could not save. 
 Worse than all, she might be in sorrow and he 
 might not even know it. He had written his one let 
 ter ; that was all he might do. It was now three years 
 since he had spoken to her; it might be longer still 
 ere he saw her again. He crushed the evening paper 
 in his hand ; then set himself to read the news. 
 
 499
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Coming to New York, he asked for the Havilands ; 
 they were away. He went to his club : not even the 
 Major was there. None of her friends were there, 
 not even Radnor ; Gresham never left home at night. 
 He might go to the Piccadilly and find Wiston ; but 
 Freddy Wiston was the one person of all of whom 
 Austin dared not ask about Mary Ravenel. And 
 once more his inability to aid, his exclusion from her 
 very presence, came over his heart as with the weight 
 of guilt. Then, furiously, the man would rebel ; what 
 had he done, what had any true thing wrought, that 
 he of all the beings upon earth should be denied a 
 place at her side? Then he went over every word 
 Brandon had said, that she was very poor, that she 
 must earn her living. God ! What place could she 
 take? Miss Aylwin earned her living well enough, 
 but she could not do Miss Aylwin s work. Restlessly 
 he turned upon his bed. He would speak to Miss 
 Aylwin in the morning. No, he could not speak to 
 Miss Aylwin. He would write to her again. No ; 
 what could he say? He would confide in John Havi- 
 land. No, that would cut off the one rarely trodden 
 path that still led from his way to hers. Oh, God 
 help her! and God bless her and, at dawn, he 
 slept. 
 
 He made no pretense of writing to Dorothy, but 
 was at his old office early. Yes, Miss Aylwin was 
 
 500
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 there, but she was leaving that very day. He tried 
 in vain to frame a question to the girl, for he knew 
 she corresponded with her ; he might better ask even 
 of Gresham, who had her affairs in charge. He knew 
 her Baltimore lawyer ; but if he wrote to him he would 
 be almost sure to reply to Gresham. He wondered 
 who was at Ravenel with her ; there must surely be 
 some one; but it was not Miss Aylwin, nor Mamie, 
 nor (for he called on her to see) Miss Brevier. But 
 there, at Miss Brevier s, he was rewarded by the bless 
 ing of hearing, at last, her name. She said to him 
 that Miss Ravenel was still at her home in Maryland, 
 not very well, she thought. And so another night 
 went by. 
 
 Not very well? If she were ill, might he not write 
 to her again ? He would ask Mr Gresham now. That 
 gentleman had not heard of her being ill. Oh, as to 
 her situation, she had the income of the Allegheny 
 stock, of course. Then the place ought to sell for 
 something above the mortgages. Austin made pre 
 text of some further business to account for his call. 
 He was now District Attorney of New York; of 
 course his name no longer appeared in the firm, 
 though he meant to rejoin them when his term was 
 over ; and on the way out he stopped for a word with 
 Miss Aylwin. It was a Friday, and he telephoned 
 his official office ; there was nothing to be done there ; 
 
 501
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 the assistants were amply able to care for the few 
 cases that came up, the quo warrantos, the routine, 
 the preparation of evidence; it was the first of Octo 
 ber, and most of the courts were in vacation. 
 
 That forty-eight hours in New York City had 
 seemed interminable ; yet what should he do ? They 
 were but the first of a myriad such hours. He would 
 not go back to Mrs Rastacq s ; next week, he might 
 go to Lenox, but not now. O God, if only one look, 
 one sign, might go from him to her! 
 
 He was back at their empty house. He could not 
 stay there. He must " arise and go " go some- 
 wheres, if not for peace, at least for refuge. He 
 bethought himself of a shooting club near Hatteras, 
 still likely to be untenanted at that season ; and bid 
 ding the man servant pack his guns, contented him 
 self with throwing in clothes and a few books. They 
 were some of his father s books, that his sisters, 
 rather than divide, had, not long since, come to the 
 conclusion should all be his. 
 
 Again twenty-four hours on the rail. The au 
 tumn was coming on, the day the first of those that 
 are dull and cheerless ; as they rolled through Mary 
 land a rain began ; he would not look out of the win 
 dows, and he had nothing to read ; he could be inter 
 ested in no book, and newspapers seemed trivial. 
 At Washington, in the morning, he sent some tele- 
 
 502
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 grams; there the long journey began over again; 
 the clayey roads, the squalid cabins of Virginia, the 
 barren pine groves, the swamps, the cancbrakes of 
 North Carolina. Then there was a ten miles drive 
 with the old negro, in the wagon ; Austin was con 
 scious that he spoke to him of floats and dogs, but 
 answered at haphazard. He had his dinner, and sat 
 alone before the great pitch-pine fire ; fortunately, 
 there was no one else ; why had he come? The notion 
 of a day immovable, even in those lonely waters, be 
 came intolerable; he took the bundle of his father s 
 books odd forgotten volumes they seemed to be 
 " Aurora Leigh," a " Festus," an " Ossian " books 
 once alive with passion, now burned out even to 
 Victor Hugo s " Rayons." He chose the " Ossian," 
 and opened it idly. The inscription on the fly leaf 
 attracted his attention it was in a feminine hand 
 writing, a name that stilled his heart " Mary Rav- 
 enel Warfield." Below there was a faint penciling 
 in a strong hand that he recognized as his father s, 
 " July 20, 1843." And then the surge of his emo 
 tions flooded his heart, and his will was drowned 
 
 The storm was increasing at dawn, as the puzzled 
 negro drove him back through the canebrakes. In 
 his agony lest he might miss the north-bound train, 
 they had started early for he had not been to bed 
 
 503
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 and now it was reported late, and he had some hours 
 to pace the deserted platform. The pulse of destiny 
 still shook the foundations of the world. But he 
 knew that he would be a slave no longer the will 
 that had willed this thing to happen had now an 
 other will to deal with nor should the stream of 
 Fate swallow up his heart without a cry nor now 
 should all the powers of good avail to make him hide 
 his self from hers. She should see his soul: it was 
 then hers to save or cast aside ; not all the reasoning 
 of all the rabbis would now serve to show his heart 
 it was its duty not to speak its love the consequences 
 were for her and God. This thing had so been willed ; 
 and the errand of his own life, be it eternal or be it 
 but a span, was yet to be performed. God grant him 
 but this one more day. When he had told 
 
 No longer restless, no longer madly drifting, he 
 had found tranquillity. He opened his " Ossian " 
 again he had devoured it in the night only to find 
 that he knew the poor tinkling thing by heart yet 
 a refrain would ring in his memory there was some 
 thing simple, elemental some echo of a crying heart 
 and it was splendidly out of doors ! 
 
 " I will sit on the top of the hill of winds 
 But morning rose in the east ; the blue waters rolled in 
 
 light; 
 Fingal bade his sails arise " 
 
 504
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 The bits that were true he had taken ; the rest he 
 threw away. " Aurora Leigh " he was impatient of 
 " Aurora Leigh " " Festus " was sophomoric. Yet 
 some one had loved it once. One thousand eight hun 
 dred and forty-three his father had been hardly 
 twenty-five! He, Austin, to-day was nearly forty 
 and she was thirty. After all, what did the poem 
 matter? His eyes had softened over the Florentine: 
 
 " Questi, che mai da me non fia diviso 
 
 the simpler fifties had hardly understood it over 
 Jacobo Lentino and his lady in heaven : 
 
 " I have it in my heart to serve God, so 
 That into Paradise I shall repair 
 Without my lady I were loth to go " 
 
 Mr Philip James Bailey of the Middle Temple, 
 barrister at law, had thought it blasphemous. Yet 
 there had been no one no one surely since the Ital 
 ians who had loved as he did now. Austin won 
 dered if his father had ever cared for Mary s mother. 
 Then he found himself wondering when, with him, it 
 had first begun there was time enough to wonder, 
 that long day. Had it not always been? Had not 
 his heart done its homage, unconsciously, even before 
 his meeting with her ? Had he not been almost ship- 
 
 505
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 wrecked that it had lost faith in her existence? He 
 had only known it that first day at Laurel Run but 
 it had been, long before. His eyes had first seen her 
 on that evening when his soul was being drowned 
 that very day her eyes had saved him but it was 
 really from that rainy day at John s, he thought. 
 Then, it began. He now knew that, since then, he 
 had thought of her always. Her face had been with 
 him in the loneliness of the desert, in the loneliness 
 of crowds ; the strong spirit of the morning was hers, 
 and the sadness of the sunset, and the wakeful watches 
 of the night. How often her eyes had made a shining 
 through his dreams ! and he would wake, with a cry 
 that she was going from him to be seen no more ; and 
 as he lay awake at the dawn all laws of God or man 
 would be as cobwebs to his sorrow and the power of 
 it freezing in his heart. 
 
 This was the ultimate nature of his being ; to 
 follow her as drop of water blends in drop of water, 
 as frost rends rock. Let him then follow out his law 
 as other creatures of the gods do theirs ; as gravita 
 tion has no conscience, should he be weaker than a 
 drop of water, a soulless molecule, because he was 
 conscious and a man? 
 
 And if he were God s creature? Well, the sin, 
 if sin there should be, would be his. Oh, he would 
 pay. Better his own damnation than the regret in 
 
 506
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 heaven that he had not told He would pay. As 
 to sin, it had got beyond the point of mattering 
 Of one great duty he had felt released Of treason, 
 dishonor, his conscience felt no guilt. Hurt her? 
 he would not hurt a hair of her head. But that was 
 her affair ; she would know the right ; but she must 
 know. 
 
 So these were all his thoughts if they were 
 thoughts ; it was no day for thinking ; nor did he 
 read his books ; he watched the gloomy cane fields in 
 the rain. Never had he been so sure of himself, never 
 so sure of what he should do. He did not have to 
 think about it ; he was, against all seeming, at peace 
 with the world ; his decision had the calmness of a 
 process of nature. It was his day for action. But 
 he did not even think this ; he watched the slanting 
 spears of sleet 
 
 "come fiocche, large e distente," 
 
 the shiver of the dry canes, the whirl and worry of 
 the red-brown leaves ; then it grew warmer, the rain 
 fell once more in drops ; the train boy came through 
 with newspapers. He did not want a newspaper, so 
 he took up his books again his hand fell upon the 
 Hugo " Les Rayons et les Ombres " " Paris 4 
 Mai, 1840 " with the pompous preface " Un 
 
 507
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 poete a ecrit le Paradis perdu ; un autre poete a ecrit 
 les tenebres 
 
 How turgid sometimes to even silliness ; the 
 " Holyrood " 
 
 " Amours ! Darnley ! Rizzio ! quel neant est le votre ! 
 
 Tous deux sont la, 1 un pres de 1 autre ; 
 L un est une ombre, et 1 autre une tache au plan- 
 cher " 
 
 A spot on the floor only a Frenchman with no 
 sense of humor could have written that 
 
 "Cette hospitalite melancolique et sombre 
 Qu on re9oit et qu on rend de Stuarts a Bourbons " 
 
 This made his thought leap to the old house at 
 Ravenel. He looked at the fly leaf once more by 
 the light of day the penciled writing, though faint 
 and fine, was even clearer only one name was in 
 this book " Mary Ravenel " he read no farther 
 there. This was the old lady he had known ! But 
 turning to the text again : 
 
 " La creation est sans haine " 
 
 The line made him " sit up," as we should say 
 Hugo, French of Frenchmen, the genius and the 
 poseur side by side, could yet write this and this: 
 
 508
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " Malheur a qui dit a ses freres : 
 Je retourne dans le desert 
 Et s en va, chanteur inutile. 
 Par la porte de la cite " 
 
 but his mind refused to look beyond the gate of 
 the city He was in the city, or to leave it, as she 
 willed. 
 
 Another night came on, the day still rainy, but 
 now again growing warm. And at the dawn he got 
 out at Washington. 
 
 There was no train to Frederick till the after 
 noon ; and he could bear no rest. The Laurel hills 
 were foothills of the South Mountain range. He 
 stopped at the stable he had used in Washington and 
 asked the distance to Mount Airy. The man doubted 
 if he had a horse who would carry him there be 
 tween feeds. " How about this one? " and Austin 
 pointed at a handsome chestnut that had not been 
 shown him. He was only for sale, it appeared; so 
 Austin bought him, and by eight was out upon the 
 Rock Creek road. The rain had nearly ceased, the 
 wind was falling, and the storm was growing gen 
 tler; it was quite warm. The roads of course were 
 heavy, but no frost had come to put them at their 
 worst. 
 
 Up the valley of Rock Creek he followed and then 
 struck over to the Patuxent. He saved his horse ; 
 
 509
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 for he was determined to arrive. At noon there was 
 a shift of wind and a driving rain, this time from 
 the southward. He pressed on, for the storm was 
 behind him. At Mount Airy he stopped for dinner. 
 The brave horse was fed; he gave him two hours. 
 At three he started once more. The distance now 
 was not great. He put the horse to a gallop. At 
 last they came to Ravenel. " The thistle shook there 
 its lonely head : the moss whistled to the wind " 
 after all, it was " Ossian s " lines which recurred to 
 his memory. 
 
 The great trees were tossing their denuded arms 
 and the Laurel Run was in spate, as he turned into 
 the long avenue. Old trees first seem to feel the fall ; 
 the stream, swollen with autumn rains, was the color 
 of a lion s mane. He rode first to the stable, where 
 he found the old servant and stalled his horse; then 
 he paced up and down the flagged terrace before the 
 house, while the ancient negro went through the arch 
 way and in by the servants door. Austin looked 
 down over the gentle valley he had seen it thrice 
 only, yet he knew its every feature better even than 
 the old German park his childhood had played in. 
 Rose leaves were falling by his feet. In a very few 
 seconds, it seemed, the front door was swung open ; 
 the white-haired negro, now a butler, reappeared. 
 Austin followed into the library he knew so well. 
 
 510
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOtJL 
 
 The old man announced his name and left them to 
 gether. 
 
 As he came in, Miss Ravenel, who had been read 
 ing, sprang up, throwing her book aside even then 
 Austin noticed that it was an " Ossian," and in a 
 binding like his own. She was erect now and facing 
 him. Pinckney paused in the middle of the room. 
 Once more he saw her. He looked one moment in 
 her face ; then he began : 
 
 " I came, because I was so grieved to hear 
 His voice was grave and low. Each paused a long 
 time between their speeches. 
 
 " You are very good friend " 
 
 " But it is not only that. I had to say " 
 
 The woman s face turned a shade whiter, but she 
 made no effort to stop him. The Ravenels had wills, 
 and respected the wills of others or else she saw 
 that now, in this moment, of time, it was decreed 
 from all eternity that these words should be spoken. 
 Her mind held still her heart one moment then she 
 willed to hear them. 
 
 Austin paused. It seemed to him that he could 
 not breathe, in the room. The air the walls drew 
 in too close. 
 
 " Will you come into the garden ? " 
 Miss Ravenel took her hat from the hall chair, 
 and a light fur; as Austin stood aside, she led the 
 
 511
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 way through the great garden window, by the con 
 servatory. Since the friend, she had said no other 
 word. In the garden, all the wind had stilled. The 
 storm had ended, and from the box and myrtle came 
 the warm afterbreath as of a summer rain. Miss 
 Ravenel led the way, but he, coming into the little 
 quadrangle, turned aside to the old dial, so that, as 
 she turned to face him, they were some yards apart. 
 Then he spoke. " I had to say what I have to say, 
 and shall always have to say that I love you, and 
 have always loved you, and shall always love you." 
 It had been said. And he did not alter his standing 
 or his looking; he neither changed nor withdrew his 
 gaze; he only waited. And still Miss Ravenel was 
 silent. 
 
 But on this day the man looked full at her, looked 
 into her eyes. She was too brave to drop them. And 
 as they stood there, face to face, in the little garden, 
 one might have fancied a suggestion of duello in their 
 attitudes. Then he went on. 
 
 " If you so wish, I shall never ask you of your 
 self, but you shall now know of me. You are all that 
 there is to me in this world or the next. And if " 
 one moment his voice faltered " if you blame me 
 Miss Ravenel no man has ever loved as I do you." 
 Now he stopped and would be silent. Again he 
 waited. Still she did not speak. Afterwards, he 
 
 512
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 remembered that birds were singing softly ; there 
 was a ray, through the long grass, from the declining 
 sun ; nature was at truce, above the high green garden 
 walls. 
 
 At last, slowly, she dropped her eyes to the old 
 stone dial to the ground. She had not looked at 
 him. Her gaze was introspective. Now she turned. 
 " Had it to be told? " She spoke very low; but he 
 would have heard the words a mile away. 
 
 " It is written that it should be told " If he 
 took one step toward her, he checked it. " It is writ 
 ten in that book you had there." She turned a shade 
 paler. He went on : 
 
 " This, you once said, was your world Mary, it 
 is ours. There is but one. If you bid me go, I go. 
 But I pray you, let me go with you. I shall love you 
 no less when we are gone from earth 
 
 Her silence, now, drove him to impetuous speech. 
 
 " I had said the sin was mine, but that there is 
 no sin. My wife has absolved me from all bonds. 
 I need not tell you why, but it is so. She is lost. If 
 my child grows up with her, he is lost. We shall not 
 injure her." 
 
 " A woman is never lost so long as a man cares 
 for her." 
 
 The man shook it aside. 
 
 " We can be happy where we will. Or we can 
 513
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 choose not to be happy. Before God, our lives are 
 our own. She wishes to leave me. A divorce 
 
 " Do you think what a man said in a court room 
 would make a difference to you and I? " 
 
 Then first the rush of Austin s will encountered 
 oh, so gently ! her own. Yet there was a pride 
 in the /. To the challenge, his own faith responded. 
 True, no divorce would absolve them. Let them break 
 God s law if they would ; it was not the way of such 
 as they were to make a shelter of the statutes of man. 
 If God forbade their coming together, no human law 
 might license it. Yet urgently he returned, shifting 
 his lance, to the charge. 
 
 " Then let us break with it. You and I have other 
 work elsewhere in the world than in Newport or Fifth 
 Avenue where they hide behind conventions. Right 
 or wrong, we are not such as they are. Miss Ravenel, 
 I would leave it all and work among the people 
 Very gently again she replied : 
 
 " Do you think that we are put here you and 
 I " (again she insisted on the pronouns, with some 
 divination that they heartened him) " Do you think 
 that we are placed here, you and I, to show that path 
 to our people? " 
 
 " They need never know," murmured Austin. 
 And then, " The sin be mine." And then, as he saw 
 her, like a vision, grow distant, his pulses shook and 
 
 514
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 he trembled. Yet not one moment was he moved to 
 so much as touch her hand. The love that he felt 
 for her went by all earthly love. She seemed to know 
 this and she dared. 
 
 " I do not think it is a sin that you have spoken. 
 But now " 
 
 Then Austin strode toward her but stopped at 
 a few feet. His empty hands were trembling con 
 vulsively. She let him speak. 
 
 " It was always, always from that night of the 
 music, that day of the rain Miss Ravenel, I was 
 not living until then. Let me then stay near you, 
 and stay apart let me but see you No, no, I love 
 you so." 
 
 Her sad smile had already brushed this aside. At 
 his last words she had seen the noble way. 
 
 " No," she said. " Listen." One moment she 
 fixed her eyes on the distant sky line; there was a 
 blue rim beneath it now. The man waited. And now 
 she turned her eyes, albeit slowly, full upon him. And 
 their light was in his soul. 
 
 " Think what you would have me be. And if 
 if you would have me 
 
 Then there was a long silence. The man had 
 thrown himself to the ground. It was near where 
 she stood ; but it was with no gesture of throwing 
 himself at her feet; and the woman looked at him 
 
 515
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 very gently, for he was telling the truth. So he 
 knelt, and she looked down at him. Very gently, for 
 he had spoken true. Louder, now, the robins were 
 singing; for the setting sun gleamed on the rain 
 drops. 
 
 Then after quite a little time the man arose. 
 
 " If I am to go now," he said very simply, " I 
 would like you to walk with me, up the brook where 
 we went that day I have a letter for you there. 
 It is still an hour before before the dark." 
 
 Very quietly she consented. Again they walked 
 together. This time he led the way. A stranger 
 would have thought them lovers. No words were 
 spoken by them on the ascent. It was only when they 
 got to the gray rock in the birches of the summit. 
 The blue sky to the west was wider now, and it was 
 getting colder. Austin sank in the ferns and began 
 to dig in the rock with his fingers. The woman 
 looked on, wondering. At last his hands exposed a 
 crevice, and reaching his arm far down, he drew out 
 a yellowed envelope. " It is a letter," he said. " It 
 has been there three years. I never thought that I 
 should give it to you. But you will read it, dear, 
 now that I am going away." She took it from his 
 hand, reading her own name on the earth-stained 
 paper. " Only when I am gone. You need not fear 
 
 516
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 to. You know, we shall never speak like this again. 
 We shall never see each other again." 
 
 He was following her way, now. And first now, 
 her heart was near to sinking. She held her face 
 quite still. And he looked at her ; he looked at her 
 slender figure, at the white hands, the contour of her 
 face, her lips, her eyes, where in the shadow they 
 made a dimness. 
 
 " We may not meet again." Then he added 
 quickly, " But I am very happy, dear Miss Ravenel, 
 very happy if you will keep the letter." Some time 
 he sat there, she still standing, but they said nothing 
 more and then she turned to go. 
 
 Coming down, it was the time for tea. Pinckney 
 asked for his horse. He looked a moment at the 
 " Ossian," still lying on her lounge. Without sur 
 prise, he read from the fly leaf. " My father s hand 
 writing I have got one in hers. Miss Ravenel, they 
 must have parted as we have done " 
 
 The word touched the breeding of his hostess. 
 " You cannot ride on to-night it is growing so 
 cold. I am sure Ravenel should offer Mr Pinckney 
 one night s shelter " 
 
 Austin Pinckney smiled sadly. " You know the 
 night and the cold don t matter and what would be 
 
 said- 
 
 517
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 The girl drew herself up. " We Ravenels do not 
 usually remember what is said. And Miss Aylwin is 
 with me " 
 
 Austin only shook his head. " Good night, dear 
 it is not very cold." For the first time his hand 
 touched hers that day. " My horse, Jackson ! " 
 Then, as he turned back, something in her face sent 
 a shudder to his heart. " Forgive me, oh, forgive 
 me. Miss Ravenel, I am so happy, only that it has 
 been spoken 
 
 So he rode off in the twilight toward the pale azure 
 rim that opened coldly to the northward. It was 
 true; that night, he was very happy that he had 
 spoken. And he rode very many miles. Poor horse! 
 When she was sure that the door was closed,. Miss 
 Ravenel returned to the sofa she had left three hours 
 before. The book lay open there, beneath the high 
 mahogany arm. She buried her face in its open page, 
 and her bright hair streamed downward 
 
 518
 
 BOOK FOUR 
 
 "In la sua voluntade e nostra pace." 
 
 Paradiso.
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 LVI 
 
 SOME days after the events narrated in the last 
 chapter, Mamie Rastacq was sitting in the 
 shadiest end of the majestic Rhinefell terrace, call 
 ing up the past. To tell over one s vanished yester 
 days is never so serene an occupation as to tell one s 
 beads ; and sadly, on poor Mamie s string, she found 
 few gems. And they, alas ! had passed unnoticed at 
 the time ; the bulk, she found, had been but shining 
 glass. How they had deceived her, though! Did 
 they deceive all women? They had, certainly, that 
 poor woman upstairs. 
 
 It is well, at one s worst, to think of others. Mrs 
 Rastacq, of late years, had been taught to see this ; 
 so she shook her thought from her own self and set 
 it to think of Dorothy. She had been very silent 
 with her, uncommunicative, but Mamie did not feel 
 it was for lack of mental process on her part. 
 
 Mamie had seen very well what had happened, 
 and Dorothy doubtless knew it ; and Mamie liked 
 her, at all events, for being too proud to try to 
 explain. 
 
 And while Mrs Rastacq was so sitting, the Ma j or 
 joined her. For Mamie had cast about for a guest, 
 and decided, on the whole, that he would best do. 
 34 521
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 The Major had not been at Gansevoort Manor, and 
 had made no effort to discover what had happened 
 there. He had contented himself with explaining 
 his absence from the house party on the ground that 
 Pete was an unlicked cub ; adding, only for Mamie s 
 ear, that he trusted he was now a licked one. The 
 addendum had suggested to Mamie that he was still 
 not, possibly, too uninformed to be in a condition to 
 render valuable advice. 
 
 But to-day old Brandon was out of his most ex 
 cellent temper. " I am tired of it all," he said, as 
 he threw himself, almost brusquely, into a chair 
 beside her. 
 
 " Tired of what ? " said Mamie gently. 
 
 " Tired of the set you live in. Tired of the 
 Duvals, Einsteins, Marosinis, Gonzagas and the 
 Markoffs and your Pizzis and your Pazzis and 
 your Puzzis the French have a word for them 
 rastaquoueres pardon me, I didn t mean to pun 
 upon your name 
 
 " My name was Livingston," said Mamie. " But 
 what are the rastaquoueres ? " 
 
 " They are the people who live in Paris and are 
 not Frenchmen the people who thrive and fatten on 
 a society they have not made the people who swarm 
 in sunny France like the locusts and would run away 
 at the shadow of a Prussian helmet the people who 
 
 522
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 are sunned to monsters in our air of liberty and equal 
 opportunity and have no patriotic gratitude the 
 people who are ignorant of the truth that has made 
 us free and neither care nor understand Oh, I am 
 not narrow they are not all Jews and dagoes 
 there are political rastaquoueres at Washington, 
 moneyed ones in New York, and some of the worst 
 of them are Yankees from Ohio. Toll, toll, iiber- 
 all toll I feel like old Sachs only not so good- 
 natured it is a Rasta world. And our Eva loves 
 it." 
 
 " Speaking of Puzzis," said Mamie, " she wants 
 to go abroad." 
 
 " And the best thing she can do. And speaking 
 of Hans Sachs, there -comes your Walther hers, I 
 mean." 
 
 " What ! " cried Mamie, starting up. " He s off 
 duck shooting." 
 
 " Perhaps his ducks are in his saddlebags. But 
 my eyes, thank goodness, are still good." 
 
 The carriage road took a wide circle around the 
 great lawn and then led away straight opposite the 
 house thus made visible, as in a French park, at every 
 rond-point ; and coming along it, at the gallop, was 
 a man on a foam-flecked horse. It was certainly 
 Pinckney, for he saw them, and took off his hat, then 
 disappeared, to the left, as the circular avenue 
 
 523
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 plunged into the forest. The Major, who had stood 
 up and waved his handkerchief, sat down again. 
 
 " He is more an Arthur than a Walther," said 
 Mamie pensively. " And as for Eva 
 
 " Well, what for Eva? " snapped the Major sav 
 agely. " What do we know of her ? What did he 
 know of her? He didn t write any prize songs after 
 he married her." 
 
 " That was left to Beckmesser," smiled Mamie. 
 
 " Oh, the ideal woman is a nuisance. The can 
 onization of the sex by the nineteenth century is as 
 much one extreme as the simple view of the mediaeval 
 Christian who saw in her only the surest mode of 
 being damned was the other extreme. The modern 
 woman can no longer make a good healthy haus- 
 frau what early Christian first discovered she has 
 a soul? Give me the normal, unmorbid classic view 
 before St. Paul and Augustine elevated her to any 
 sinful eminence." 
 
 " And what do you consider the classic view of 
 her?" 
 
 " That she makes a charming mistress, but a bad 
 divinity." 
 
 " Oh, I was speaking of good women," remon 
 strated Mamie. 
 
 The Major looked at her as if he had found a 
 new note. Then he burst out again. " Oh, the good 
 
 524
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 woman. Give me the bad. The good woman who 
 glorifies the earth awhile for a man, then breaks his 
 heart such a one is like the beguiling fairy in the 
 old knight s tale she takes and leads you by the 
 hand down into the enchanted valley and then, when 
 both of you discover where you are, she stabs and 
 leaves you. Good women may do more harm than 
 bad." 
 
 He stopped, for Austin Pinckney strode out 
 of the main door. Booted and spurred, he had 
 not stopped to brush the dried mud of yesterday 
 from his gaiters. To the Major it was obvious 
 that he had ridden hard. " Where is Dorothy ? " 
 said he. 
 
 " In her room," answered Mamie, grasping his 
 hand. " Shall I show you where it is? " 
 
 " Please tell her first I am come, if you will be 
 so kind, Mrs Rastacq." He waited until she had 
 left the terrace; then turned to the Major. 
 
 " I thought you were off shooting," said the 
 Major hastily. 
 
 " I have been on a riding trip," said Pinckney, 
 " but to-day I had a telegram from my office. Mrs 
 Somers, my wife s mother, died in Paris this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 In a minute Mamie had returned. " She is wait 
 ing for you." 
 
 525
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " Mrs Somers has just died in Paris," said the 
 Major. 
 
 " Oh," cried Mamie, with the natural cry of any 
 woman ; she had never known Mrs Somers. " Do 
 you want me to tell her? " 
 
 " I think I had better tell her first," said Austin. 
 " But I wish you would come with me." 
 
 The Major continued to sit on the terrace. 
 After a quarter of an hour had gone Mamie re 
 turned. " What will he do ? " asked he. 
 
 " She will go to Paris. He will not go with her. 
 She leaves by to-morrow s steamer. He is going to 
 Lenox to the baby. She has her maid, who has been 
 with her before. After all, she has often been over 
 without him. He is not needed there." 
 
 " I am not so sure of that," said Brandon. 
 
 Mamie answered subconsciously : " He will go 
 wherever he is needed." 
 
 The Major looked at her, but said nothing more. 
 After a while Austin and Dorothy came down to 
 gether. She was not in black, but she made no com 
 plaint of her want of mourning, as she might once 
 have done. She did not seem to think of her dress. 
 The Major went up and shook her hand; then Mamie 
 put her arms about her and led her away. 
 
 526
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 LVII 
 
 FATHER BASIL CONYNGHAME, of the 
 Brotherhood of the Virgin, that night knelt 
 more than his allotted time before the altar that was 
 in the chapel at the end of the long gallery. The 
 great chapel was at the end of the cloisters below; 
 this little oratory, dedicated to the . Child Virgin, 
 was dressed with a simple altar, a hassock or two, 
 and plain wooden benches for those who were too 
 weak to kneel ; it was used only by the invalids from 
 the hospital and, at night, for the lonely orisons of 
 those of the brethren who felt the call to penitence 
 or prayer. Now Basil Conynghame had knelt there 
 many hours and searched his soul. 
 
 Not in vain, it appeared ; for when, at last, he 
 rose (it was nearing the hour of prime and the 
 breath of a dawn of June was in the garden) his eye 
 was bright and clear and his face (though always, 
 with its high cheek bones and aquiline nose, the face 
 of an enthusiast) serene. To one of those who 
 quailed or melted before his burning eyes, in his 
 ministrations of the working day, it would have 
 seemed a still newer revelation, so pale and strong 
 was it, so pure, so radiant " calm with having 
 looked upon the front of God." As that of the 
 
 527
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Florentine when Lethe s shriving stream was past 
 and before the rebirth in Eunoe brought eternal re 
 membrance and its deathless joy. Like one whose 
 soul Lethe put to sleep before the message of the 
 Magdalen for " first was Mary Magdalene to see 
 the risen Lord " ; the woman that had been lost first 
 found the hope of heaven. 
 
 All that night he lay in prayer. One would not 
 say, he wrestled with the Lord, that is the prayer of 
 the pre-Christian, Jew, or Puritan. The Christian, 
 most of all the later Catholic, learns first the lesson 
 that His will is peace. Long since, years since, he 
 had dedicated, not his walks and ways alone, but his 
 soul and self to God ; his mind and heart to service 
 of his fellow-men. There was naught now remaining 
 of the self that had been Basil Conynghame. 
 
 So Conynghame had not been praying for him 
 self, unless to avert a sorrow that he would share 
 with all his world be deemed a selfish prayer. And 
 now he bathed, and walked in the garden, as he 
 planned his work for that day. After all, he could 
 go on alone now; the summer s tasks were easy and 
 the winter s work well done. He listened joyously 
 to the singing of the birds and buried his gaunt face 
 in a great new rose. For Conynghame was no 
 ascetic, except as his nature quailed at grosser pleas 
 ures, nor indeed a Roman Catholic, though many 
 
 528
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 an honest clergyman thought their " Brotherhood " 
 as bad. He called himself a priest, and had taken 
 the vows of poverty and celibacy ; he was a Catholic, 
 but not a Roman Catholic ; their very name be 
 tokened not Mariolatry, but tenderness for her that 
 had been the mother of God. But he had been pray 
 ing for a woman now. 
 
 She had given that year of her life to stony 
 ways ; she had trod by his side in their humble path ; 
 and now, in his deep vision, he had bade her go. No 
 one is too high for humble service ; but one star dif- 
 fereth from another in glory. There are many man 
 sions ; and some can best serve in the wider world. 
 There were other ministering angels whose hearts 
 were as kind as Mary Ravenel s, other nurses for 
 the sick with hands as gentle ; no one who had such 
 vision of the perils of the time, the aims or lack of 
 aims of women, the needs of men. He had chosen for 
 his own the meaner streets of his native Baltimore ; a 
 larger world, the whole Republic that they both 
 loved, had need of ladies such as (he had found) 
 was this his favorite cousin s child. For Conyng- 
 hame, like many of us, believed that commercialism 
 had done its worst, and that we Americans are now 
 at last once more upon the plane of an ideal, a high 
 resolve, again to lift our country to the level of 
 its mission on the earth. 
 
 35 529
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Then, too, there was her health her bodily 
 health the first duty to the Creator, even of an 
 angel, is to live the life on earth. The mediaeval 
 poet never brought his angel nearer to this world 
 than the garden of Paradise: the profounder mod 
 ern mind had placed her still on earth. So Conyng- 
 hame had urged her, when her strength, that spring, 
 the year after her grandmother died, showed signs 
 of failing, to leave the close city for a while and 
 travel with some friends abroad. She had had no 
 garden to walk in, as had he Raven-el was gone and 
 she had no place now, in New York. 
 
 He had given her, that day, when she left, a 
 handful of the sweet Southern jasmine; and now he 
 plucked a blossom or two that still remained in the 
 garden, as its fragrance reminded him of her. He 
 did not wholly understand. To such as Basil 
 Conynghame it was no mystery that any woman 
 should choose the single life it was his creed to hold 
 that such might be the higher service yet, some 
 how, it was a puzzle to him that this one had per 
 haps it is a corollary of the doctrine of an unmar 
 ried priesthood that a woman s highest service is 
 rendered with and through her husband. But in his 
 secret soul Basil believed that no priest could really 
 see the highest truth, minister so deeply to the 
 human heart, as he whose soul had soared beyond 
 
 530
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 the bonds of sex. He would have denied it humbly 
 denied it to any holding a different faith but it 
 may be thought the prejudice was there. His friend 
 Austin Pinckney knew far more of the world, was a 
 wider man, a far more potent instrument for the 
 world s good, even a wiser man, than he but the 
 priest could not but feel that there were some 
 things the lawyer could not judge so well. Yet how 
 Pinckney himself had grown from that brave young 
 boy he had married ! He had seen clearly enough, 
 as he had thought, into the white page of his youth ; 
 it was a white page, he was sure ; but it was blank. 
 Now something in the man, not in his mind, that was 
 clear enough, but in the man baffled him. True, 
 he had heard, in the remote way that priests may 
 hear such rumors, that his marriage had not been 
 " happy." To such a view as Conynghame s, the 
 very phrase was unintelligible. It was no ques 
 tion of happiness. Any marriage, every marriage, 
 should be a sacrament or it should not be. It 
 was the very forgetfulness of this, thought Conyng- 
 hame, that made the shame of the modern secular 
 law. 
 
 For a moment his mind had wandered ; then it 
 reverted to his cousin. True, he had once spoken 
 of her to Pinckney ; his friend had simply answered 
 that he knew her. " She is the noblest woman I have 
 
 531
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 ever known," he had urged; but Austin made no 
 response. Conynghame supposed that he had been 
 bred a Romanist ; his wife, he fancied, was of no re 
 ligion. But Austin s mother had been a Boston Uni 
 tarian ; his father was consul to a Lutheran court. 
 
 Conynghame thought of his work for the day: 
 his work for many days to come. Consumption, the 
 chief scourge of their poor, was less dangerous in 
 the summer; the people could be given sunlight, 
 could be got away ; but there were the children s ail 
 ments, most terrible in a Southern city, and the sor 
 rows, profounder almost than any human sorrow, 
 that come with the dying of a little child, and, more 
 than always, the desolate homes of erring men. 
 How marvelous after all the love of women ! Of the 
 thousand homes that Basil visited there were not 
 ten whose misery was not caused by sins of men. 
 And the women s truth it was the " upper " class 
 where women took these things lightly that was 
 why women like his cousin were more needed there. 
 Well, he had promised to write to her about the poor 
 people she had left. She was not coming back, to 
 labor in his vineyard ; but she had not lost her care 
 for the souls that dwelt there. Hers was no per 
 functory service ; it was the very wealth of her heart 
 that had enabled her to scatter largess of its love 
 among them. His mind ran not with the Major s. 
 
 532
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 The Rev. Basil Conynghame gathered his long 
 frame together. It was time to be up and doing. 
 The day promised to be hot. Even as he did so, 
 he heard the tinkle of the garden bell, and strange ! 
 it was his friend Austin stood before him. He was 
 passing through Baltimore, he said, on his way to 
 Washington the thought had occurred to him to 
 get off there for breakfast. He was not needed in 
 the Supreme Court until two o clock how was 
 Conynghame? He wanted a walk in his garden 
 how lovely those jasmines were. 
 
 They walked and conversed desultorily. Pinck- 
 ney did not seem to have much to say, but Conyng 
 hame knew nothing of politics and ascribed his ab 
 straction to this. The priest was aware, at least, 
 that his friend just then was fighting with beasts 
 at Ephesus. " How is Haviland s campaign getting 
 on ? " he did ask. But Pinckney only answered that 
 it was hardly a campaign yet, merely a question of 
 the people s wresting the nomination from the New 
 York machine. He lingered on, though, and Con 
 ynghame felt that it was time for his work to be 
 beginning. Intentionally he led their steps toward 
 the gate again. 
 
 " Have you seen anything of your cousin, Miss 
 Ravenel, this winter? I heard she had been ill." 
 
 " She has not been ill only a little overworked. 
 533
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Yesterday she went abroad, for a good long rest, I 
 hope." 
 
 " I am very glad," said Austin. " Is she to be 
 gone long? " 
 
 There was nothing unusual in his voice, but the 
 man of the world suddenly became as a little child 
 to this priest of souls. After a quick glance, which 
 Austin did not meet, he answered : 
 
 " A year I hope, perhaps more. She is not 
 strong." 
 
 " I am very glad that she will have the rest she 
 needs. You know my opinion of her." 
 
 " She is much interested in Mr Haviland s cam 
 paign." Now Conynghame forbore to look at the 
 other. 
 
 " Tell her, if you write, that it is promising well. 
 Now I must go for my train. And I suppose you 
 have your work to do." 
 
 " We all have our work to do." 
 
 They made a round of the garden once more 
 and neither spoke. Then Conynghame: 
 
 " How is your wife, and the boy? " 
 
 " The boy is fine," laughed Austin. " My wife 
 is well, too. She is in Paris with her sister. Little 
 Austin is with me or rather, with his aunt, at 
 Lenox." 
 
 Austin felt curiously conscious that this man 
 534
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 this priest was meditating what he should say. 
 But some minutes more went by. Then they came 
 once more to the gate. Then suddenly he felt the 
 burning eyes blaze through the curtain of his own. 
 And it was the priest that spoke. But he spoke 
 very gently, and he laid his emaciated hand lightly 
 on Austin s as he did so : 
 
 " Remember, my dear friend for Mr Haviland, 
 for you, for all of us shall I seem presumptuous 
 if I say it to one who is far abler than I to one, 
 a Catholic, perhaps, who well may have his own 
 priest remember my years may help me to see, at 
 fifty, better than one who is in the heat of conflict, 
 yet in the middle years if I say to you that this 
 world is a world not of fulfillment, but of prepara 
 tion? " 
 
 Conynghame saw the younger man start; for 
 Mary Ravenel had said it to him last. He looked 
 away. So Basil added : " It matters not whether 
 Haviland gets his election ; the thing is to prepare 
 the people and in so doing to prepare himself." 
 
 But Austin did not take Basil Conynghame s 
 remark for Haviland. 
 
 So he left him, with his thought ; and the priest 
 walked there alone with his. By his own love, he 
 had seen. 
 
 535
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 LVIII 
 
 A WESTERN man comes to New York for the 
 first time with a certain sense of defiance. 
 He would indignantly deny that the great city 
 imposes on his imagination and he affects, perhaps 
 in the year 1896 with belief, to condemn its works 
 and despise its ways yet the defiant note remains. 
 In that sense the Mississippi River still divides 
 America a boundary more significant than it had 
 in all the centuries it flowed between France and 
 England and so on into Spain. " New York is 
 not American," they say in the country that a cen 
 tury ago was France. And periodically they revolt 
 at the tribute that they pay to it. 
 
 Yet in the height of such an outbreak Armitage, 
 of Arizona, sought that city. Three years, off and 
 on, he had been at Washington, seeking only to 
 get permission to work a public benefit, and he had 
 hardly been put off with fair words. Bills to award 
 pensions land grants private privileges passed 
 by his little vehicle as if their wheels were greased. 
 Bills to take lands from the public to lease lands 
 from the Indians to brevet monopoly all were 
 taken in turn ; only the bills to protect the public 
 bills for pure food, fair dealings, equal rates 
 
 536
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 slept with his own in the Senate committee room. 
 He wanted only to make land, not to take it to 
 make fields of waving grain where not one blade 
 grew before but his river was officially navigable 
 and he needed the Senate s kind permission. Yet 
 he never lost heart, or, what is more, his temper, 
 until one day when he discovered that the very Sen 
 ator of a neighboring State who introduced his bill 
 was secretly opposing it. And as he was patiently 
 waiting his turn, in his committee room, he listened 
 to an argument (it was for the inviolability of these 
 very Indian lands) made by Mr Austin Pinckney, of 
 New York. And Armitage noticed that the chair 
 man of the committee, a Senator from Kansas, whose 
 custom was to remove his boots and go to sleep in 
 his blue woolen socks on his plush sofa during many 
 of his hearings, sat up all through Pinckney s dis 
 course. Diffidently, after it was over, he then rein- 
 troduced himself; it was six years since they had 
 met ; but the reminder was unnecessary, for Pinck 
 ney had greeted his friend with outstretched hands. 
 Then he had told him of his troubles ; and Pinck 
 ney bade him come to New York. " You should 
 have gone there first," said he. 
 
 But to Armitage, who found getting his charter 
 so difficult, the raising of the money when the law was 
 passed had appeared a simple matter. And so Pinck- 
 
 537
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 ney, that year, went back without him. It was only 
 when Congress again adjourned without action that 
 he bethought him of the lawyer s advice. And with 
 drawing his dead bill from its pigeonhole, he packed 
 it up with his plans and surveys. All his fortune 
 was there in land. Even then, he had not been able 
 to buy up all the lands over which his acequlas might 
 flow. But he was willing enough that others should 
 profit too only now it was a desert ; not even useful 
 as a cattle range the very Moquis and Apaches ab 
 horred it he was the first white man that had taken 
 an interest in it since the courtly Coronado marched 
 through it, a century before the village of New Am 
 sterdam was born or thought of. 
 
 Armitage s sense of dignity as a Westerner 
 prevented his going to any but the very best hotel, 
 though he had very little ready money left in Wash 
 ington and not much more at home. He wore a black 
 coat and a felt hat it was not an unfamiliar wear 
 in Washington and went downtown by the Ele 
 vated. When he found Pinckney s offices he was 
 amazed at their magnitude to be sure, there were 
 several partners, but the rooms through which he 
 was ushered seemed interminable. There were dozens 
 of clerks, a library; in the last room before you 
 reached this a very beautiful girl sat alone, and but 
 for the typewriting machine he had taken her for 
 
 538
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 a lady client ; he removed his hat instinctively. " Mr 
 Pinckney? " 
 
 " Mr Pinckney is with a friend," she said. He 
 noticed that she used this word with a touch of 
 amusement. " Have you an appointment ? " 
 
 " I I did not think of that," said he. " I come 
 from Arizona." The distance of the journey, or the 
 simplicity of the excuse, must have impressed her; 
 for after looking him full in the face she has such 
 lovely eyes, thought Armitage, as he felt himself 
 redden she said that she thought Mr Pinckney 
 would see him. 
 
 " I should not wish to disturb him now if he is 
 busy." 
 
 " Oh, I do not think he is very busy," the lady 
 said, this time distinctly with a smile ; and, after 
 knocking, she entered the next room. Left alone, 
 Armitage noticed a very handsome bouquet of long- 
 stemmed roses upon her desk. So it was New York 
 that permitted ladies such as she was to take to type 
 writing ! He could not but feel she would have done 
 better on the Western prairies. The door opened 
 and a man appeared, of a different type from any 
 that Armitage had seen downtown : healthy and 
 pleasant-faced, but awkward and with a stooping 
 gait, and dressed in a rough homespun with a wide 
 straw hat. It had not escaped the quick-witted 
 
 539
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Westerner that most of the men on Wall Street wore 
 silk hats and frock coats, nor did the look escape 
 him that lingered on the lady typewriter s face as 
 this man said, " Good morning, Miss Aylwin" and 
 went out. Meantime Pinckney was calling to him 
 to come in. 
 
 He laid his plans before him, and the latter lis 
 tened attentively. Once or twice he opened his 
 mouth as if to speak ; then he seemed to decide to 
 remain silent. The area to be covered had increased 
 somewhat since he had talked with him six years 
 before in Arizona ; now Armitage thought he should 
 need seven millions of dollars. But Pinckney only 
 seemed to want to talk about free silver. Like all 
 his part of the country, at that time, Armitage be 
 lieved that a moral wrong had been perpetrated 
 intentionally, and by a few participants whereby 
 the value of gold had been artificially enhanced. 
 But his friend seemed to view the unlimited coinage 
 of silver in a similar unmoral light. Still, he took 
 it pleasantly enough. So Armitage said: 
 
 " I told you six years ago that Wall Street was 
 the dealer, and every twenty years or so you call 
 in all our chips, and now you say our white ones are 
 no good ! And you ve got most of the blue ones out 
 of the game ! " But Pinckney only smiled at this. 
 He was graver than Armitage had remembered him 
 
 540
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 and seemed much older; in Arizona, Armitage had 
 thought himself the older of the two. But he had 
 a very winning smile, and Armitage, merely saying 
 that there was nothing now to do in Washington, 
 waited. 
 
 " It is only that I don t want you to be disap 
 pointed it is a very bad year to get money in New 
 York." 
 
 " I only want a few introductions," said the 
 Westerner confidently. 
 
 " That, of course I can take you now the 
 Miners Bank." 
 
 " I don t think I ll go to-day," said Armitage, 
 glancing at his hat. " I suspect I am a little wild 
 and woolly. And I think, on the whole, you had 
 better not accompany me. It will be less embarrass 
 ing to both of us. A list of names is all I require 
 of banks or bankers who will be interested in my 
 proposition." Armitage shared the usual Western 
 tendency to slip into Latin-English the moment he 
 was the least bit self-conscious ; otherwise his diction 
 was as good as his manners were simple. Austin him 
 self saw no reason for the change of apparel ; the very 
 slouch hat and black broadcloth suit lent a reality 
 to the irrigation scheme; however, with the tact of 
 middle life, he forbore all comment. 
 
 " Let me know if you need rny help." 
 541
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " Oh, I ll round them up alone," laughed the 
 other. " If I lasso any, you can come in for the 
 branding. It must be possible to throw one out of 
 such a herd " and he looked over the long list that 
 Austin had just dashed off for him. " I hope that 
 Mrs Pinckney enjoys good health." It was the first 
 shade of embarrassment he had shown. 
 
 " She is very well, I heard only to-day. She is 
 in the south of France. The boy is with me that s 
 the last picture of him." 
 
 " Good ! " cried Armitage. " Mr Pinckney, he 
 looks fine. I want to hear of him. You must send 
 him to the ranch and let me make a cowboy of him. 
 If I may presume, will you send your lady my re 
 spectful compliments ? " 
 
 " You may presume anything, old fellow, only 
 don t mister me. And you must dine with me to 
 night." 
 
 " Only on one condition that I m not to bother 
 you with business. I m not going to beset your din 
 ner table ! I ll let you know when it s all done." 
 
 " When you ve rounded em up," laughed Aus 
 tin. And he thought how much a finer instinct of 
 commercial manners the stranger had than many 
 of New York s successes ; they made no scruple to 
 discuss business affairs at feast or funeral. When 
 Armitage had left, he took a long look at the photo- 
 
 542
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 graph before replacing it in his desk. Then he took 
 up his wife s letter. 
 
 " / feel that I must stay with Daisy one more 
 summer," she said. " Her husband is quite impossi 
 ble, and I fear she may have contracted another 
 attachment. At least, there is no doubt of it on the 
 boy s part. He is a silly young fellow, just out of 
 Harvard, and quite ten years younger than Daisy 
 is but I really am afraid it may ruin his career. 
 Please write and tell me what I ought to do and 
 thank you. so much for letting us take the villa at 
 Cimiez again." Then, at the bottom of the letter 
 were the words, " I hope you are coming over this 
 summer." For one reason or another, Dorothy had 
 never returned to New York since her mother s death. 
 Two winters had been passed with Austin s German 
 sisters. 
 
 To Kollner, coming back, it appeared that Mr 
 Pinckney was in a brown study. Papers were on 
 his desk, but he was not reading anything. Even 
 his eyes seemed fixed on a point of space. He turned, 
 and tiptoed out very gently so that Austin might 
 not hear him. 
 
 For ten days, nothing was heard of the business, 
 though Austin saw Armitage frequently. Then (he 
 had dined with Austin, in perfect cheerfulness, the 
 night before) he strode in one summer morning, wear- 
 
 543
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 ing the old slouch hat. " Mr. Pinckney, when I talked 
 about the money power out on the range, I was half 
 jollying. I thought the boys that used that expres 
 sion were the ones that couldn t walk down Broadway 
 for fear of the high buildings. Well, I m a tender 
 foot on Wall Street, but it s taken me only ten days 
 to find it s a real thing. If I hadn t worn my wool 
 on the outside, I d a found it out in one. And now 
 I ve struck the trail for Arizona 
 
 Austin pushed his papers back with a laugh. 
 " What s the matter, Dick? " 
 
 " Look here, Pinckney, do you know Sherman C. 
 Pillsbury, director in the - National Bank? " 
 
 " Of course," smiled the other. 
 
 " Oh, he ain t president he s just a plain direc 
 tor. Then S. C. Pillsbury, trustee of the Universal 
 Life Insurance Company ? " 
 
 Austin nodded. 
 
 " Same man. And Sherman Carter Pillsbury, 
 vice-president of the Cosmopolitan Trust Company? 
 Same man." Armitage went on hurriedly. " And 
 J. Watt Wilcox, office on Broadway, banker, presi 
 dent? Same man. And James G. Duval, president 
 European Trust Company no, he s only on the 
 executive committee? Same man though. And 
 Jacob Einstein, Junior (he s about eighty though), 
 on the executive committee of the Cosmic Life? 
 
 544
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Same man. They re all the same man. They re the 
 Money Power, and there ain t anybody else got any 
 money in New York. And their names don t show 
 on the signboards. We ve hardly heard of them 
 in the West. They re not Vanderbilt or Astor or 
 J. P. Morgan, but I tell you they ve got a lead-pipe 
 cinch on the industry of eighty million people. 
 What s more, I tell you they ain t four men, but only 
 one of them the others is just, you may say, vi 
 sions When I d seen Pillsbury I d seen em all 
 and it would have been just the same if I d seen 
 Duval or Einstein. They re all tied up in their own 
 lariats like a bunch of stampeded cayuses throw 
 one and you throw em all they throw you and 
 you re down and out." 
 
 " Come, come," laughed Austin. " I may have 
 written names in one connection " 
 
 " There are others ? " 
 
 " Well, there s the Standard Oil crowd " 
 
 Armitage groaned. 
 
 " There are the Jews " 
 
 Armitage groaned again, but not so badly. 
 "Am I not right?" 
 
 " You were very quick in finding it out." 
 
 " How do you account for it? " 
 
 Austin paused a moment ; then he spoke seri 
 ously, and his words carried conviction to the hearer. 
 
 545
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " Money mobile money is the greatest earthly 
 power. Our very nursery tales told us this: of the 
 purse of Fortunatus ; of the hoard of the Nibelung, 
 fashioned to a Ring, that wields the Will of the 
 world yet we forget it. Now there is but one way 
 to the hoard for it is made up of our savings. The 
 work of the hands in farms or factories or railways 
 has no harm in it. It is money, ready money, that 
 is the power and the danger. And what do we, 
 the American people, do with our savings? In the 
 old days a farmer, a little manufacturer, a shopman, 
 when he saved, could enlarge his business, add to 
 his mill In these days of trusts there are no 
 small trades, no independent factories so now he 
 saves. And eighty million people put their savings 
 into savings banks there they do little harm, for 
 these can only loan on mortgages or into trust 
 companies they are more dangerous or into life 
 insurance and that is the most dangerous of all. 
 You have simply struck the concentration of control 
 of quick capital. Eighty million people have handed 
 over the dynamic power of all their savings to a 
 group of six or eight men." 
 
 " One man," persisted Armitage. " I have met 
 him." 
 
 " Oh, no you only met Mime now let s try 
 Alberich!" 
 
 546
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " And yet you are surprised that Americans 
 hate Wall Street ! " 
 
 "Are you not here wanting eight millions? 
 Where else can you get it? Let us be fair. It is 
 this very saving, this concentration, of capital, that 
 enables it to serve the myriad American enterprises 
 how long would it take you to go among the peo 
 ple who have deposited this money the business 
 men who have struggled, good years and bad, to 
 meet their life insurance and get the loan you 
 need? Then, small capital is cowardly; it takes a 
 mighty hoard to brave great enterprises. All 
 America has been built up in this way. It is like 
 the great storage lake that holds up the water for 
 your own river valley." 
 
 " Sherman C. Pillsbury holds it up all right. 
 That may all be, but I d like more hands at the 
 sluices. Where may this Alberich live?" 
 
 Austin laughed and gave him Haviland s ad 
 dress. " He will tell you." 
 
 " You re sure his real name ain t S. Carter Pills- 
 bury?" 
 
 " Now will you vote the Democratic ticket?" 
 laughed the other. 
 
 " Or J. Watt Wilcox? " muttered Armitage as 
 he closed the door. 
 
 Austin rang his bell. " Send me Miss Aylwin," 
 547
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 he said to the boy who entered. He meant to dic 
 tate a line to John. But the boy returned with the 
 message that she was out. It was unusual for her 
 to be out in the morning hours. She had absolutely 
 no interests outside of the office. 
 
 At the same moment Kollner entered. He had 
 been in and out of the office for weeks or more. 
 
 " It ain t no use, sir," said he. " I might as 
 well go home. I think she does not even want to 
 see me." 
 
 And then, more gently, more sympathetically 
 than he had needed to be with the healthy Armitage, 
 Austin sat down with the young German and began 
 to talk of the affairs of Laurel Run. 
 
 LIX 
 
 JOHN HAVILAND was sitting in the firelit 
 library, Grace s two hands in his. We have 
 not seen so much of these friends as we could have 
 wished: braw deeds mak ill telling, said the Scot; 
 perhaps they counted more in the world than in our 
 story. Moreover, their romance was over and has 
 been elsewhere told. John had bravely won her, and 
 her whole heart was his. But the elect of earthly 
 paradise stay not within its gates what are wings 
 
 548
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 given for but to fly afar? aye, and even to the 
 places " mute of light " it was only Dante s dainty 
 lady would not trust her wings beyond the stream 
 of Lethe. Grace knew her city s world better than 
 the " Man in the street " better than most minis 
 ters better (for she saw the heart s higher secret) 
 even than the district party leader. While John 
 was mayor it was she who would tell him what the 
 city needed. And now that the wave of national 
 prosperity had caused the machine to believe they 
 might elect an easier man, it was she that bade him 
 stand aside in patience. Party ideals, even national 
 ideals, were fading in the blaze of wealth ; there is a 
 time to serve, a time to stand and wait; so there 
 was a fight against his renomination, but this dis 
 turbed her not at all. Daughter of the grand old 
 Massachusetts judge, she had been born in the 
 ermine ; but it is the rust of idleness, not the stains 
 of conflict, that leave the lasting spot. Should he 
 withdraw? Surely not the people might be, mis 
 led, but not for want of an honest leader. And 
 John, who loved to hear the voicing of his own reso 
 lution on her gentle lips, patted the hands, still so 
 pretty, that lay between his own. " And what have 
 you been doing? " 
 
 Grace said she had a pleasant surprise for him. 
 " I have been to see Mary Raven el she has just 
 
 549
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 got home." John sprang to his feet. " Now don t 
 go around there directly besides you don t know 
 where she is." 
 
 "Where is she?" laughed John. "She s worth 
 a dozen state committees." 
 
 " She s got the nicest little apartment you ever 
 saw around on Thirty-ninth Street and it was all 
 quite ready for her. The steamer only got in this 
 morning, but that lovely protegee of hers Miss 
 Aylwin had been around there for days, fixing it 
 up. Do you know, she even had flowers there from 
 Laurel Run." 
 
 John laughed. He guessed that he knew who 
 sent the flowers. 
 
 " John, will Austin be nominated for Attorney 
 General?" 
 
 " He can have the nomination if he wants it 
 the Democrats are particularly virtuous just now. 
 But why?" 
 
 " You know, dear, I think he ought to go to 
 Europe for a whole year? Poor Dorothy will not 
 come home and perhaps she ought not to. Mary had 
 a great deal to say about that sister of Dorothy s. 
 It seems she has left her husband." 
 
 John grumbled something about a good rid 
 dance. 
 
 " But that foolish Brevier boy is still with her. 
 550
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Miss Brevier, I know, is heartbroken. Yet I can see, 
 Mary thinks they all ought to come home. She 
 despises Paris society more than ever. You just 
 ought to hear her wave the American flag." 
 
 " If the American flag follows Mary Ravenel," 
 laughed John, " it won t matter about the Constitu 
 tion ! Ravenels have led it before." 
 
 Gracie sighed. " I am afraid we need more 
 Ravenels." 
 
 " Why won t she marry ? " 
 
 Grace shook her head. " Mamie has a theory, 
 but she won t tell. I never saw anything like the 
 sympathy that exists between those two, or anything 
 like the change it has made in Mamie. If Mamie 
 could only have married a man like Austin Pinck- 
 ney." 
 
 " I am not so sure of that. It takes sometimes 
 the worst in others to develop the best in us. Tony 
 Rastacq, once and forever, disillusionized the poor 
 girl of Vanity Fair. If I were a woman, I should 
 fall in love with Austin Pinckney. But women fol 
 low a more ungentle spirit. It has not made much 
 difference in his Dorothy." 
 
 " 7 am not so sure of that. Mary Ravenel saw 
 quite a little of her in Paris. She thinks she is much 
 changed." 
 
 " I don t for one moment think there was ever 
 551
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 anything really bad about her. But she was worse 
 than wicked ! She was shallow, she had no soul." 
 
 " The Greeks made the butterfly the symbol of 
 immortality 
 
 " Hush," said John. " You mustn t say such 
 things in New York society ! That erudition is pro 
 vincial it savors of Berkshire, Mass. ! How is the 
 State Commission?" 
 
 " John, if you don t run, who ll they put in? " 
 
 " Whom, whom. Some Orange County store 
 keeper, I suppose a fellow with a human smell 
 about him a man with magnetism." 
 
 " I m not a schoolmarm. If they do, all we ve 
 done is thrown away. You re magnetic enough for 
 a governor " 
 
 " Well, why can t you get New York City to take 
 an interest ? " 
 
 " They ve no interest, except for business. 
 They re wonderful in commercial public interest 
 anything to promote the port of New York but as 
 for civic interests why, Boston has twice as 
 much!" 
 
 " That s because they ve given us their railways 
 and we and Washington have bottled up their port. 
 They ve leisure, now, for charity and public work 
 they ve got no other business ! The creditor attitude 
 destroys initiative. They still can sit and cut their 
 
 552
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 coupons but our tariff will end by making Boston 
 another Halifax. They have time for altruism, but 
 we are out for business. New York was always the 
 same. It slept quietly under the British flag from 
 1776 to 1783 it was the only town in the colonies 
 that didn t throw the British out. At the time 
 of the Port Bill, a New York committee reported 
 that they could not discover the wisdom of hazard 
 ing the freedom of their own port by indulging any 
 romantic sympathy for the people of Boston. Look 
 here ! " 
 
 John took down a " Life of John Jay," from 
 which he read: " An injurious influence was exerted 
 on the manners and habits of society in New York 
 by the number of adventurers whose residence was 
 merely temporary and who resorted thither for the 
 purpose of accumulating fortunes. That is 1775. 
 You see, it was always so ! But we prosper, all the 
 same." 
 
 " What Major Brandon calls the Rastas prosper 
 none of them care about the country. Not the 
 Duvals nor the Marosinis nor the Delgados nor the 
 Einsteins. One Jew, Markoff, is liberal with his 
 subscriptions. The New Englanders and the Pres 
 byterians are the only ones who work. The Knick 
 erbockers are too lazy for public life." 
 
 " They re going to give us a President," laughed 
 36 553
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 John. " And the Jays themselves and Jerome 
 and the Bayards ? " 
 
 " All Huguenots. Mary herself is a Huguenot. 
 Austin, too, comes from South Carolina. Freddy 
 Wiston is the only New Yorker I can count on. 
 Even Mr Gower comes from Connecticut." 
 
 Whereupon John kissed her for a bigoted pro 
 vincial 
 
 There came a ring at the door that reverberated 
 through the house ; such a bell as was full of presage 
 there are such bells others are as the tinkling of 
 cymbals. Both Grace and John started up. They 
 were not deceived the door of the peaceful library 
 was flung open, and Mary Ravenel, not waiting for 
 the servant, appeared. 
 
 "Mr Haviland? I am so glad you must come 
 at once I have got a carriage a terrible thing 
 has happened 
 
 . Beautiful she stood there, with a face of snow. 
 She was like the angel Azrael. 
 
 LX 
 
 IT was on this day that Armitage had been called 
 back by Austin to New York. Conservatism 
 had long since triumphed, and capital emerged from 
 its holes. His money had been raised. For the 
 
 554
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 millions advanced, the bankers asked to have an equal 
 amount of mortgage bonds. Besides this they were 
 to be given, for nothing, half the capital stock. 
 Armitage would have demurred at this, but that the 
 terms demanded were no longer a surprise to him. 
 They were the best that had been hinted of, the year 
 before; and even then they had not been willing to 
 advance the money. Moreover, he saw that Pinckney 
 had something more to say. 
 
 " You will say these terms are outrageous ; that 
 you are giving half your property for the privilege 
 to borrow on the other half. But what is that half 
 worth without the irrigation? These are the usual 
 terms to inventors. Half to the inventor, half to the 
 financier, besides the actual cash outlay. In a sense, 
 you have invented this land. The value of the in 
 vention remains to be proved." 
 
 " I have given twenty years of my life to this 
 enterprise what have they done? " Armitage spoke 
 earnestly, but not querulously. 
 
 " Well, for one thing, they have got your act 
 of Congress. It was rushed through at the special 
 session called last month to pass the tariff act. You 
 remember there was a few days lull when the Senate 
 and House failed to agree? Benton, of Missouri, 
 started to agitate his anti-trust act, so the speaker 
 let your bill get in ahead." 
 
 555
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 "My bill?" 
 
 " Certainly here it is. And here s your charter 
 and your list of directors." 
 
 " Sawtelle? Why, that s the very Kansas sena 
 tor that opposed it behind my back said the waters 
 might back up into Kansas." 
 
 " Well, he s taken quite a lot of stock, I hear. 
 You and I have nothing to do with that. They can 
 sell their stock to whom they like. And I ve got you 
 a good man for treasurer Frederick Wiston. He ll 
 be with you for the right thing, every time. So 
 you ll really still have control of the company. Be 
 sides, you re president. And both Levison Gower 
 and Haviland are on your board it was he got the 
 life-insurance people to give the money for your 
 bonds." 
 
 " Oh, S. Carter Pillsbury again," sighed Armi- 
 tage. 
 
 " Not quite," laughed Austin. " And with a dif 
 ference you and Wiston are the difference. But 
 Pillsbury had to go in." 
 
 " I make no doubt it is the best arrangement pos 
 sible." 
 
 " Not quite. For I insisted on one thing more 
 that your time and money should be counted as well 
 as their financial influence. And your five millions 
 of land are to be taken at fifty cents the acre Span- 
 
 556
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 ish title proved. That will give you two million and 
 a half of the bonds one-third the total issue. I 
 am sorry, but I couldn t get them to count your 
 time! They said you must take stock for that 
 as they have done. You know, old man, a minute 
 at Washington may be as a thousand years in 
 Arizona." 
 
 Armitage laughed, this time unreservedly, 
 " Pinckney, you have done all that man could do 
 and more than any Westerner could." He grasped 
 his hand. Then, as he stood there, he dropped it, 
 without a word. " What was that? " cried Austin. 
 
 A shot had rung out from the adjoining room. 
 Austin flung the door open and rushed in. The 
 Westerner waited to be summoned ; he had recog 
 nized the gunshot, even to the bore of the revolver. 
 But it was but for a moment. 
 
 " Armitage ! " 
 
 He saw upon the short couch at one end of the 
 room the fainting form of a woman, supported in the 
 arms of the young German. He remembered to have 
 seen him there the year before. With a glance only 
 for the revolver, noting how it lay there on the floor, 
 he was at Miss Aylwin s side. Kollner, speechless, 
 still held her in his arms, but her head had fallen. 
 Pinckney rushed out to the telephone. " Lay her 
 down," Armitage said. " Open her dress." Then, 
 
 557
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 as the German seemed not to understand, he shoved 
 a cushion beneath her head and gently laid it there ; 
 disengaging the other s arms from his support, he 
 quickly tore the collar from her throat. The poor 
 girl gave one shuddering sigh. Kollner grasped his 
 hand to prevent him. " Man, she must breathe ! " 
 And noting that the bullet had gone through her 
 dress, he tore it apart with his two hands. There 
 was a second sigh and a quiver of the eyelids ; and 
 the poor heart stilled. 
 
 " She is gone ! " 
 
 Kollner threw himself on his knees again, as if 
 to stanch the wound ; but it was not bleeding exter 
 nally. Then he drew her dress together and laid his 
 handkerchief over her face. He stood up and 
 looked at Armitage. 
 
 " She iss dead." 
 
 "How did it happen?" 
 
 The German looked a minute at him silently. 
 Armitage fancied that he had lost his wits. Kollner 
 bent down again, over the body of the woman he had 
 loved in vain. Then, without rising from his knees, 
 he turned his eyes again to Armitage. The West 
 erner met their gaze; this time he refrained from 
 asking questions. He turned away, and stooped to 
 pick up the revolver. 
 
 " Leave it alone ! " 
 
 558
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 It was Pinckney, returned. With him were the 
 people from the other offices and a man whom 
 Armitage saw to be a surgeon. But Austin closed 
 the door as the doctor entered. Armitage caught 
 one glance of an awe-struck group, the messengers, 
 the clerks. The doctor bent but a minute over Miss 
 Aylwin s body ; then reverently he replaced the 
 handkerchief Avhere Kollner had disposed it and 
 closed her gentle eyes upon this world. 
 
 LXI 
 
 IT is all over. Death was quite instantaneous." 
 It was the doctor who spoke. 
 
 Thank God for that, seemed to be their thought ; 
 only Fritz Kollner gave a sort of smothered sob. 
 The surgeon bent himself and said a word in Aus 
 tin s ear. " No," Armitage heard him say. " Please 
 see to it yourself. But then you must come back 
 here " 
 
 "Come back?" 
 
 " Come back until they come." The surgeon 
 left the three men sitting there. To Austin the 
 hours seemed endless. Already, at the main door, he 
 could hear the insistent buzz of reporters. He had 
 telephoned to Mr Gresham, now doubtless at his 
 
 559
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 house; the old gentleman usually left the office after 
 three. And he had caused a guarded message to be 
 sent Miss Ravenel. 
 
 Kollner still seemed like one dazed. Armitage 
 watched him curiously. He remembered now to have 
 seen him often in Miss Aylwin s office, not once but 
 many times before. Perhaps he wondered why they 
 were waiting. 
 
 Austin was called a moment to the outer office. 
 As he went out Kollner rose and walked over to the 
 couch where the poor woman s body was lying. 
 There, he sank upon his knees. 
 
 Armitage tiptoed softly back into the library. 
 
 When he returned, it was because of a loud 
 knocking at the outer door. Then he heard 
 Pinckney s voice in colloquy with several men. 
 In a minute more the door opened and the police 
 came in. 
 
 " Everything is as we found it, captain." As 
 Pinckney spoke, the German stood up. The police 
 officer but glanced at him. " This is the revolver." 
 The officer took a ruler from the desk and, taking 
 up the revolver, lay the ruler on the floor where the 
 revolver had been, pointing it as the revolver had 
 pointed. Armitage witnessed these acts with evident 
 disapproval. 
 
 " No doubt, sir, no doubt." The chief of police 
 560
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 spoke with the respect he owed to one who had been 
 his district attorney, yet with the air of one whom 
 the powers of the great may not distract from his 
 appointed path. "You say there was no motive? " 
 He spoke in English, carelessly, as if the German 
 could not understand ; and yet he looked at Koll- 
 ner rather than at Austin s reply. 
 
 " None that I should deem sufficient. The last," 
 said Austin, " that I should deem sufficient. She died 
 without speaking." 
 
 " She was dead when I came," said the surgeon, 
 " and I happened to be close by, waiting in Mr Rad 
 nor s office. The revolver was fired close to her 
 breast ; the dress is badly burned ; death must have 
 been practically instantaneous." 
 
 "How many shots were fired?" The officer 
 asked this of Kollner, who made no answer. 
 
 "One shot," said. Austin; "we heard only one 
 shot. And it was very loud. We should have heard 
 any other, I am sure." 
 
 " But one shot has been fired," said the officer, 
 looking at the revolver. " How long had she been 
 here?" 
 
 " Since the morning, they tell me in the outer 
 office. She had complained of being ill and had not 
 gone out to lunch." 
 
 The officer stepped up to examine the body. 
 37 561
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Kollner made a step forward ; Armitage laid his 
 hand on his arm gently. Then the officer turned to 
 Austin and beckoned him aside. 
 
 " How long had he been here? " 
 
 " They tell me he had but just gone in." 
 
 " Those his flowers ? " He had seen the roses on 
 her desk. 
 
 " She had a bouquet of roses every day. She 
 always had them, they tell me. But I have noticed 
 it, before she even knew young Kollner." 
 
 " He may have known her taste you say he 
 brought none with him? " 
 
 " Those are faded," said Austin. " They are 
 yesterday s." 
 
 " Where does he live ? Where may they have 
 come from? " 
 
 " He lives in Maryland, at a place called Laurel 
 Run. He must have arrived this morning. I had 
 not seen him before. He has long been a client of 
 ours. I have every confidence in him." But as Aus 
 tin spoke, he noted, beneath the roses, something 
 the officer had failed to see it was a little bunch of 
 jasmine, of the kind that grew sheltered in the Rave- 
 nel gardens. All this time Armitage was looking on 
 with increasing disapproval. Kollner did not seem 
 to hear. 
 
 " Now, what is your story, my man ? " The cap- 
 562
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 tain of police suddenly rounded on him. But Kb ll- 
 ner made no movement. 
 
 " What have you to say for yourself? " 
 
 Pinckney touched the officer s elbow. 
 
 " Remember, what you say may be used against 
 you. Now then, what was it? " 
 
 Kollner looked at him stolidly. Then, as a light 
 seemed to break on him, he started ; and, after a mo 
 ment, compressed his lips and spoke. " I haf noth 
 ing to say." 
 
 " Search him search him at once, before he has 
 time to throw anything away." Armitage sprang 
 up ; the officer laid a hand on his arm. 
 
 " It is a mere formality," said Pinckney. Then 
 he whispered to Armitage, " They will not find any 
 thing upon him." 
 
 Armitage stared at him. " You think 
 
 " They cannot search his heart." 
 
 " Well, of all the tenderfoot Armitage 
 stopped; his eye, for a moment, had caught that of 
 Kollner. 
 
 " Was there any money in that desk? " the head 
 officer asked, coming back to Pinckney. 
 
 " She used, I believe, to keep the petty cash for 
 the office in there." 
 
 They opened it ; a small sum was found. The 
 drawers were filled with files of receipted bills, neatly 
 
 563
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 docketed. One side was locked, without a key. 
 There are times epochal moments of life, times of 
 love and death, of shame or tragedy when even the 
 socialist must admit the State s interference to be 
 horrible. The officer turned to Miss Aylwin s body 
 once more. " She must have had the key with 
 her " 
 
 " Stop right there, Mr Officer," cried Armitage, 
 while Austin also laid his hand upon him, saying 
 quietly : 
 
 " It is not necessary now. The drawers can be 
 sealed. If she has the key it shall be saved for you. 
 You need not search." 
 
 " Well, I did not believe the motive was money," 
 said the officer meaningly. Austin made no reply. 
 A louder murmur was heard from the outer office, 
 and in a moment Radnor, followed by Mr Gresham, 
 burst into the room. The tears were streaming 
 down the old man s cheeks ; Armitage and Austin 
 stood up, and all, even to the officer, left the room. 
 They heard him sob, " My child ! My poor child ! " 
 
 " Any relation ? " asked the officer. 
 
 " None that I know of," said Pinckney. 
 
 " None whatever," reiterated Radnor. " Don t 
 you think you d better take him away ? " 
 
 The captain opened the enti y door and two stal 
 wart policemen trooped in. Kollner seemed to start 
 
 564
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 as the handcuffs snapped upon his wrists, then re 
 signed himself again. 
 
 " Well, if I can do nothing more It was 
 the doctor who spoke. He was anxious to get 
 away. 
 
 " Nothing, thank you," said Austin. " Captain, 
 if any bail 
 
 " Out of the question," snapped the officer. He 
 picked up the pistol. " And I ll keep this 
 
 " An you d better get him away before my old 
 friend sees him." It was Radnor spoke. Kollner 
 went off without a look. All the doors opened ; they 
 heard, from the outer office, the talking stilled; a 
 sudden hush. Then, in a minute, the distant, low, 
 but dreadful roar of an angry crowd. 
 
 " It is the people in the street," whispered Rad 
 nor. " There s a thousand of them already. And 
 there ain t an office boy among the lot but would 
 kill him but for the police." 
 
 " Mr Radnor, Mr Armitage." The Westerner 
 looked at Austin s senior critically as the three sat 
 down. Then, in a minute, Mr Gresham appeared, 
 wiping his eyes. 
 
 " How long has this been going on, Mr Pinck- 
 ney?" 
 
 " You mean Kollner s visits ? Five years eight 
 
 years " 
 
 565
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 i 
 
 " You knew of this infatuation ? " Gresham 
 spoke calmly enough. 
 
 " I knew he wanted to marry her. I knew I 
 guessed he had asked her many times." 
 
 " Poor girl and this is the end." 
 
 " Has she no relations ? " 
 
 " She has an old father no one in New York. 
 She has supported him for many years. But he 
 is too old to come too feeble. He ought not 
 even to be told. He has lost his memory. For 
 tunately, she has always kept up her life insur 
 ance. I have sent for Miss Ravenel she was her 
 greatest friend. She has just telephoned that she is 
 coming." 
 
 " Mr Pinckney, with your permission, I will 
 leave you now." It was Armitage who spoke. " Our 
 affairs can wait. And I ve a word or two to say to 
 that sheriff of yours." Radnor also rose to go. 
 The two partners were left alone. 
 
 " The man was mad? " said Mr Gresham. 
 
 " I do not know. I do not know what to think," 
 said Austin. Then Armitage returned. His open 
 countenance again manifested an expression that was 
 nearer contempt than tolerance. Then Austin heard 
 Haviland s voice in the outer office. The door opened 
 behind him, but he did not turn his head. He felt 
 her presence in the room. He held himself as in a 
 
 566
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 vise. He had never seen her since that day of storm 
 at Ravenel. 
 
 " Was it here? " asked Mary. 
 
 Austin turned. There was no word of greeting, 
 though it was four years since they had met. 
 
 " She is there." Her eyes fell ; but Armitage, 
 as he looked on, saw Austin s face. He went away. 
 But this was all. 
 
 Mary went in ; Austin followed her with his eyes ; 
 then closed the door. 
 
 When, in a few minutes, she came out, she was 
 crying. Austin kept silent, with clenched palms. 
 " It shall be from my home," she said. " Mr Havi- 
 land " 
 
 But Haviland had gone out. Miss Ravenel went 
 on, to Austin alone: "You believe he did it?" 
 
 " He had but just come. They tell me, he 
 seemed beside himself when he arrived. He had not 
 gone in a moment before the shot rang out. He 
 brought those flowers 
 
 " And she took them and put them in her glass 
 of water and then, you think, he shot her? " 
 
 Austin was struck to silence. What the police 
 man had failed to see, he had seen ; but what the two 
 men had not noted stood out most in her clear 
 woman s wit. He, too, remembered a glass of water 
 it once had saved him. 
 
 567
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " I do not mean the roses, they were hers," man 
 like, he went on arguing. " But the jasmine see? " 
 Gently he turned the great roses aside, where the 
 dainty yellow bloom was hidden. " That came from 
 Laurel Run. I know where it grows." 
 
 " I gave it to her myself. All day she had been 
 busy making a welcome for me ! And I did not even 
 see her. I sent it to her in the evening." They 
 stood there, face to face, and knowing each the 
 other s truth. Death so makes life simple. 
 
 Gresham and Haviland came back and talked 
 with Miss Ravenel in a low tone. Austin walked to 
 the window and looked at her in the waning light. 
 
 Radnor entered. " The undertaker s people are 
 there." 
 
 " Good-by," said she to Austin. She went up 
 and put out her hand. 
 
 " Good-by ! " said he. " I am glad to see you 
 looking so well." And that, again, was all. 
 
 Going out the great steps into Wall Street, 
 Haviland and Miss Ravenel found themselves be 
 tween a line of policemen. With difficulty they kept 
 the people back. " Extras " were thrust into their 
 hands ; but in front, before the very newsboys, was a 
 phalanx of reporters. Mary sprang hastily into 
 their carriage, as Haviland pulled down the cur- 
 
 568
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 tains ; but even as he did so, a sheaf of black-lettered 
 newspapers was thrust in. : Murder in the Office 
 of a Wall Street Law Firm ! " was the headline. 
 
 " You must come to our house. The reporters 
 would give you no peace at home. They will find 
 out that you knew Kollner." Mary looked at John. 
 
 " It was not poor Fritz who shot Miss Aylwin." 
 
 LXII 
 
 ALL that winter Kollner stayed in jail. The 
 newspapers they said, the people of New 
 York raged for his execution. Even the men in the 
 street, that afternoon, had been in a mood to lynch 
 him. Throughout all, Fritz Kollner said no word. 
 He persistently refused to tell the police, even to 
 tell Mr Gresham, what had happened in those fate 
 ful moments after he had entered poor Miss Ayl- 
 win s room. Then another, a more melodramatic 
 murder, came along, and the newspaper public might 
 have forgotten all about poor Fritz but that the 
 district attorney s office still postponed his trial. 
 Then the "yellow" journals got another chance to 
 make manifest their virtue, and the district attorney 
 got his day in court. It was pointed out that over 
 eight hundred homicides had been committed in 
 
 569
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Greater New York since that official came to office. 
 For these murders there had been but two hundred 
 arrests, twenty-seven trials, and two men executed. 
 Nor did the Attorney General s office escape criti 
 cism. The charge of supineness gave place to that 
 of corruption ; it was openly alleged that Pinck- 
 ney s influence stood in the way of justice. 
 
 It was true that Austin had talked much and 
 often with the police commissioner. He had fol 
 lowed Armitage s cue and asked no word of Kollner, 
 but he had imparted his convictions to the head of 
 the police. Haviland, too, inspired by Mary Rave- 
 nel, had been working through his own party lead 
 ers. And somehow her conviction of Kollner s inno 
 cence through but the one word spoken on that day 
 had imparted itself to Austin. He had a talk him 
 self with the district attorney. 
 
 Then it was that that official showed him a let 
 ter. It was a letter which had been found in Koll 
 ner s pockets, who had vainly tried to throw it away. 
 " You see," said the captain of police who had made 
 the arrest, " the evidence of motive was not all in 
 side him, after all." The letter was but a note, 
 without a signature. It was on dainty paper, deli 
 cately sealed in gray wax ; it ran : 
 
 " You must not come again to New York. Believe me, 
 it is quite hopeless. You would not importune me, I am 
 
 570
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 sure. I am sure you can find a better wife in the valley. 
 If you knew all, you would not wish to marry me. / am 
 in disgrace." 
 
 There was neither address nor signature. 
 
 " It is in your clerk s hand, I think? " 
 
 It certainly was in Miss Aylwin s hand. " But 
 what does she mean by disgrace? Her character was 
 flawless 
 
 The police captain shrugged his shoulders. The 
 commissioner went on : " Well, with anyone else we 
 should have thought Now don t get excited ; 
 you re as bad as your friend, Mr Armitage, who 
 wanted to throw us all out of the window ! No, we 
 don t think it s that. But you must admit that the 
 only alternative is that he shot her. And that made 
 your cowboy friend almost as mad as the other ! 
 
 Any d d fool that ever saw a gun play must 
 
 know that Dutchman never owned the hand that fired 
 that gun. He couldn t have done it ! But when 
 we asked him why, he would not tell." 
 
 " I think he s right." 
 
 " Well, confidentially, so do I." The police cap 
 tain snorted. " And that s why we ve held up. But 
 how to prove it? You see he won t say a word. And 
 the public wants his neck." 
 
 " They ll turn around and send him flowers when 
 they find he s guilty all right," said the captain. 
 
 571
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Then Austin made a sign to the district attorney 
 and that officer was dismissed. 
 
 " To begin with, we don t know it s a murder." 
 But the commissioner shook his head. 
 
 " It s always a murder. There s a hundred jobs 
 done where one man swings for it. And there s a 
 thousand more parties die husbands poisoned, 
 workingmen sandbagged, old people put quietly 
 away, girls got rid of where ten of those are 
 known as murders. When a murder s known to be a 
 murder, it s a failure as a murder." But Austin was 
 familiar with the pessimistic notions of the police 
 department and he turned again to his successor. 
 " You must find what motive she had to kill herself. 
 Kollner never will tell." 
 
 " You know the department has money to spend 
 in detecting crime. But there isn t any fund en 
 dowed to save obstinate dunderheads from the con 
 sequences of not opening them." 
 
 " There need be no trouble about money. Havi- 
 land and I will see to that." 
 
 " Then your partners Mr Gresham turns to ice 
 when we ask about her affairs and Dick Radnor 
 would kick us down the elevator if we proposed to 
 break open her desk, but it s got to come to that 
 sooner or later." 
 
 " First you find out who sent her those roses 
 572
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 every day to my knowledge she s had them for ten 
 years 
 
 "You suspect ?" 
 
 " I suspect no one," said Austin gravely. " I 
 suspect no one but her worst enemy." 
 
 The district attorney looked at him. " Her worst 
 enemy ? Well, we are not quite such fools as we look. 
 So do we. See here 
 
 It was a bill, for more than a hundred dollars, 
 for " roses " addressed to Miss Kathryn van Kort- 
 landt, at the Hotel Waldorf-Astoria. 
 
 " And here." 
 
 It was another bill, of still larger amount, for 
 " American Beauties " delivered to Mrs Auguste Du- 
 val, at the Holland House. 
 
 " And here." This one, from another florist, 
 bore the name of Miss Clare Clinton, the Bre- 
 voort. 
 
 " The florist tells me he used to send them to her 
 ten years ago, at the Ocean House in Newport. And 
 she had hotel bills at all these places, but they are 
 mostly paid." 
 
 "She?" 
 
 " It is the same person, of course, always Mag 
 dalen Aylwin. She led two lives Miss Aylwin at 
 your office Miss Clinton, Mrs Duval, Miss Van 
 Kortlandt, in uptown hotels. But she was perfectly 
 
 573
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 straight, as far as I can make out. No one still 
 less any man -would ever come to see her. She only 
 stayed from Saturday to Monday and was supposed 
 to have a place out of town. Her manners were dig 
 nified even to shyness. Saturday nights she often 
 went to the theatre to the opera if there was one 
 but she never bought prominent seats and always 
 took a maid. Several of the maids I saw. They were 
 very fond of her, and cried bitterly when I told them 
 what had happened to her. They could not believe 
 she was not a great lady, as she had represented 
 herself. She pretended to know all the prominent 
 women in the boxes and would point them out to the 
 maid. She did know a few Mrs Antoine Rastacq, 
 for instance but always seemed to avoid them. 
 The maids would get very angry every one of them 
 when my detective asked if there was no gentleman 
 in the case. But of late she had been letting her 
 hotel bills get behind. Now I have told you the 
 facts, how do you account for it? " 
 
 " It seems incredible, but it is simple enough. 
 She came to New York, an ambitious country girl, 
 and was dazzled by it. Five days in the week she 
 was a working-girl. The sixth day and Sundays 
 she played at being a great lady. It was a Winter s 
 Tale. And she sent herself the roses." 
 
 The district attorney nodded. Austin felt the 
 574
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 good fortune that this official was a gentleman. 
 " Her salary was large? " 
 
 " Ample. But she sent a large part to the sup 
 port of her father and mother. They live or used to 
 live in Hadley, Massachusetts." 
 
 " The mother died last summer. The father has 
 lost his memory of her, of everything. We have 
 examined all that. Her life insurance will be 
 paid " 
 
 " If Kollner murdered her," said Austin. 
 " Could he have known ? " 
 
 The other shook his head. " His motive is but 
 dumb devotion." 
 
 "To save the memory of the suicide?" 
 
 The police commissioner evaded the question. 
 " Now what have you found? " 
 
 " She dismissed all her Sunday-school classes 
 the week before. She would give no reason only 
 cried a little when she was asked. She adjured the 
 older girls to be very good, and told them to marry 
 soon and not to mind if the man was not a gentle 
 man ! She had spent the day before getting ready 
 the apartment of her one great friend Miss Rave- 
 nel who was returning from abroad. But she did 
 not wait to see Miss Ravenel 
 
 The district attorney nodded. " I know in her 
 room her own room, I mean ; it was but a hall bed- 
 
 575
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 room in a genteel boarding house we found a 
 trunkful of what is known as the society newspa 
 pers. In a locked photograph album was a whole 
 series of photographs of herself, in her best dresses, 
 ball gowns even, low-necked opera things, dinner 
 dresses there was a scrapbook with cuttings ; one 
 in the Town Woman referred to the beautiful 
 Miss Aylwin at the Ocean House it was after that 
 she used to change her name. Then there were even 
 a few clippings about her from the country paper at 
 Hadley all respectful enough and speaking of her 
 as if she were a personage in the New York world. 
 There was even an item from the Times about a house 
 party at Ravenel." 
 
 " I remember it," said Austin. 
 
 " I can only wonder that she did not burn these. 
 That was really the only thing that made me hold on 
 to Kollner. The impulse must have been a sudden 
 one. When is it the custom of your firm to make up 
 its annual accounts ? " 
 
 Austin started. " I do not know," he answered 
 icily. 
 
 " Come, come, Pinckney the poor girl is dead 
 and you and I want to save an innocent man. No 
 jury will believe these fairy tales we have been tell 
 
 ing ! " 
 
 " At least let me go and prepare my part- 
 576
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 ner I will find out. You can come in half an 
 hour." 
 
 Going over, Austin found Armitage there wait 
 ing. He had returned from the West. " Dick," he 
 said, " Kollner is innocent." 
 
 Mr Richard Armitage gave an explosive sigh. 
 " I knew it all along." 
 
 " How did you know? Why didn t you tell? " 
 
 " I saw that your Dutch friend was a gentleman, 
 and making some play. Being a gentleman, I natu 
 rally backed that play. And now I suppose we can 
 go and set the poor fellow free? " 
 
 " Not quite," said Austin. " We must go 
 through the poor girl s accounts. Her private desk 
 is locked. The district attorney won t release him 
 without a confirmation of his suspicions." 
 
 " The desk is mine I will not have it opened," 
 said Mr Gresham, when approached upon the sub 
 ject. 
 
 LXIII 
 
 THE spring of 1898 had come, and Mary Rave- 
 nel had been down at Laurel Run. During the 
 winter she had gone there frequently ; the whole man 
 agement of the watch factory had fallen to her 
 hands, its manager in jail; besides this she had taken, 
 
 577
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 in addition to her own classes in New York, poor 
 Magdalen Aylwin s Sunday school. At Laurel Run 
 she had lived in the house of one of the older work 
 ing girls, and devoted much of her time to the heart 
 ening of old Mrs Kollner. Once or twice she had 
 taken the poor mother to New York to see her son ; 
 for during all that time her confidence in his inno 
 cence had never faltered. But even to his mother, 
 Fritz had never revealed what had happened. Rave- 
 nel was dismantled; she never walked in the garden 
 now. She preferred the exhilaration of the climb up 
 the Laurel gorge. 
 
 Her cousin, Father Conynghame, came out to see 
 her as often as he could; and sometimes she would 
 help him with the old work in Baltimore. It seemed 
 to him, brave and strong as she was, that she had 
 more than she could do. He tried to help her in 
 turn, but her enemies were of this world, where his 
 spiritual powers availed not ; moreover, his own no 
 tion of this life was to burn it out even as a candle 
 is burned on the altar of the Lord. And the strug 
 gles of the spirit are best quieted by service, even 
 service of the body. To one who has renounced the 
 earth comes already some vision as of the souls that 
 do not dwell therein. And so, he put her from his 
 heart. 
 
 Freddy Wiston was a great help to her in a busi- 
 578
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 ness way ; so, in other wise, was Mamie Rastacq. Of 
 Austin she never heard; but she kept up a corre 
 spondence with Dorothy, who was still at Cimiez. 
 She only knew that Austin was working hard to 
 prove poor Kollner s innocence. So another winter 
 joined itself unto the past. 
 
 There are times when the present seems more 
 unreal than any past, more empty than any future. 
 Mary Ravenel never permitted herself to be discour 
 aged the greater difficulty but showed the greater 
 need yet it was an hour as when one mounts a weary 
 hill to see the way lie long before him. The tragedy 
 of the poor woman s end lay deep upon her, and the 
 greater the sense, still undefined, of tragic fruit- 
 lessness that was in her life. The ascetic priest 
 could not help her here ; he did not deem it his mission 
 to reconcile one with this life. And Mary had a 
 sense that she had sought, first, indeed, to elevate, 
 but also to reconcile, Miss Aylwin to the world she 
 found and that she had failed. Besides, those years 
 abroad had been as an anaesthetic. Life in Europe, 
 particularly when one is ill, quiets one s energy, lulls 
 one s conscience. Her duty had been there to re 
 cover her health. It was true that she had seen 
 much of Dorothy, and she had found her for the 
 first time in her life unhappy. Truly unhappy 
 not vexed or discontented it was a good sign. 
 
 579
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Then, one day, Miss Ravenel was aroused by 
 Haviland s telegram from New York : " Kollner is 
 to be released to-night everything is known." And 
 joyously she ran down she had been sitting in the 
 gorge, above the long cascade where the " run " sang 
 deep beneath the stones to break the news to his 
 old mother. First she only told her that she had 
 come to take her to New York, that she might see 
 her son that day. But her little feet ran lightly, 
 with the tread of them which shine upon the moun 
 tains, and with one look at Mary s eyes the old dame 
 said, " My son is free." 
 
 They went to the Tombs, and there found Armi- 
 tage and Mr Radnor waiting for them. Pinckney, 
 they said, had been there, but had gone. Poor old 
 Gresham sent careful word that he rejoiced with 
 them but his heart was too heavy yet to come. " I 
 never saw Gresham so broken I will tell you at the 
 house," said Haviland. So even the jailers went 
 away ; and Kollner, in his prison house, was told that 
 all was known, that Magdalen Aylwin had pressed 
 the pistol to her own pure heart. They even knew 
 the reasons. Was it not so? 
 
 Kollner looked at his mother, then at Miss Rave 
 nel. 
 
 " You may speak freely," said John. " It can 
 do the poor girl no more harm. Was it not so?" 
 
 580
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Kollner bowed his head. Then they asked him how 
 it happened. But Armitage, who had been getting 
 more restless, growled that they might leave the poor 
 lad alone with his mother. John laid his hand upon 
 his shoulder. " But one thing we must know did 
 she say anything? Did she explain? " 
 
 " Fritz," said Mary Ravenel, " did she tell you 
 anything, or did she fire before you spoke to her? " 
 
 " She fired even as I did open the door I did 
 not even see her do it. How else would I not then 
 have prevented her? I loved her very much." 
 
 " Did you know that she had stolen money ? " 
 
 Kollner looked at Haviland, his blue eyes opened 
 wide. Then, as they filled with tears, he sobbed out: 
 You know I knew she wass in trouble the police 
 men they took my letter from me and haf read it 
 so I had to come. And I know nothing more." 
 
 John took his hand from Armitage s shoulder, 
 and the Westerner sprang up. " You must come to 
 the West with me and ride, and ride I need a man 
 like you. Come, man, we ll start to-night. Will 
 you?" 
 
 " I should be very pleased to go away," said Koll 
 ner. " First I must go back to the watch factory, 
 to Laurel Run, with my mother here." And he 
 kissed her, as the others turned away. 
 
 " It was hardly a thousand dollars," said John, 
 581
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 in the carriage going home. " It might have been 
 going on some years, but she had always managed 
 to replace it before. This time, she saw that it 
 would be discovered. She had taken it all from the 
 petty cash. Large sums, vast sums, had often 
 passed through her hands before and she had never 
 touched them." 
 
 " Poor Mr Gresham was almost crazy with 
 grief," John continued, as Miss Ravenel made no 
 answer. " When he consented that we should look 
 at her book, the deficit appeared at once. She had 
 not attempted to conceal it. A thousand dollars ! 
 the old man kept saying to us. A thousand dollars ! 
 Why, didn t she know she might have had ten for 
 the asking! Why didn t she ask me? why didn t 
 she tell me? he kept on saying." Mary only 
 pressed her handkerchief to her eyes. 
 
 " We looked carefully through the desk we 
 even thought there might be some letter of explana 
 tion. But there was none. There was not even a 
 word for you she had your picture in the desk, 
 though. And here it is. After all you did for 
 her " 
 
 " After all I tried to do. I never could suc 
 ceed. I could not make her look at things our 
 way The poor girl quite broke down. 
 
 " The cause seems all too trifling does it not ? " 
 582
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 " N-no," said Miss Ravenel gravely. " It was 
 not -that she took the money but that she knew her 
 self that she could take it." 
 
 " Still, I do not see. Most defaulters have some 
 great cause, some pressing need." 
 
 Coming to his wife, John bade her look after 
 Mary. He had never thought she seemed so lonely, 
 so much in need. And with Grace he left her. In 
 her plain black evening dress, he thought to himself 
 that she had never been more beautiful. The two 
 women sat on the lounge before the fire, their hands 
 clasped together. And he could see that already 
 Mary Ravenel had won her faith again. He listened 
 while she spoke to his wife: 
 
 " No, I will not lose heart. The poor child s 
 life is not so hard to understand. The world intoxi 
 cated her and she had to stand apart. Others 
 might have envied, might have sinned. There was 
 no sin in her nature only that her soul was never 
 touched. She saw other women radiant, flattered, 
 followed she sent herself flowers as if they had 
 been sent to her by some one else, as she had seen other 
 women get them. The life of luxury dazzled her 
 and one day in the week she chose to play at being 
 rich. The world held up to her no other standard 
 of success. The poor child s life was like an Arabian 
 
 583
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 Night s tale her Sundays, her poor, pitiful notion 
 of what she thought the fashionable hotel, the opera, 
 the flowers, the carriages, gave the color to her life. 
 Monday mornings the fairy spell would vanish and 
 she had to come back to a drab world." 
 
 " If she only could have married that good 
 
 man ! 
 
 i " 
 
 " If he only could have touched her heart, she 
 might have found her soul. But she could not get 
 beyond his workman s hands. Oh, it is we who are 
 to blame, we who are to blame," cried Mary. " We 
 set up no ideal but money-making, and the money 
 that men make we spend not worthily. It is not 
 enough that men leave millions to a college, an asy 
 lum; dead money does no good. And yet the men 
 are not to blame. It is the women, wives, daughters, 
 the mothers for the daughters, who set the standard. 
 What lesson of content in her lot did the poor child 
 learn from the opera boxes ! Plutocracies, what we call 
 ages of commercialism, have existed in the world be 
 fore now. And they have fallen in corruption it 
 was much that this poor child could even keep herself 
 from that. Yet even Venice learned to forbid mere 
 ostentation ! It is not so much the luxury, the com 
 fort that the rich can really use, if only for them 
 selves it is the show of senseless possession, the 
 pride of possessing things that others must go with- 
 
 584
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 out. We women must bring about the change. A 
 man will follow where a woman leads. We must get 
 ideals it comes back to that we must learn not to 
 be vulgar in our hearts. That, I am sure, was what 
 most rankled in her she knew herself equal, finer, 
 than the women who seemed to sweep in triumph by. 
 It is our fault, our fault." 
 
 The speech was simple, perhaps would have 
 seemed a truism but for the blaze of insight that 
 glowed in her lovely eyes. Then the lids fell again 
 and Grace made bold to say : 
 
 " You have not failed." 
 
 " Oh, I failed with her I could not seem to make 
 her see The girl s head sank upon her slender 
 wrist as she looked into the fire. " After all, it is 
 the only thing to do." 
 
 " You must be very tired to-night," said Gracie 
 gently. 
 
 " Yes it is time to go to bed. God sends each 
 morrow another day," said Mary, smiling. 
 
 " Grace," said John Haviland gravely after Miss 
 Ravenel had gone upstairs, " if I had not met you, 
 I had loved that girl more than my own soul." 
 
 " Are you sure that you do not do so now, dear 
 John ? " said Grace. And John thought her smile 
 was like an echo of Miss Ravenel s. 
 38 585
 
 LXIV 
 
 MUCH water has passed beneath the bridges 
 since poor Magdalen s death. A year or 
 two later, Mary Ravenel went abroad again, with 
 the Ralstons, on their great steam yacht. " Com 
 mon rich people," said John ; " but she is interested 
 in the daughters. I am afraid, too, she needs the 
 salary. We are glad to have her leave New York ; 
 she has no place now in the summer." In this way 
 Austin learned of her. 
 
 Austin stayed in New York again that summer 
 and buried himself in his business. The year before 
 he had brought the boy back to his aunt s. He had 
 been very ill at Cimiez. Then Austin had a public 
 interest in his own life; it was to be a critical year 
 in New York, in national politics. Occasionally, as 
 he had promised Kollncr, he ran down and took a 
 look at the affairs of Laurel Run. The business of 
 the works was prosperous enough, but Fritz was still 
 out with Armitage in Arizona. A great dam was 
 being built there and the acequias commenced; but 
 Armitage wrote that Kollner spent his time in far- 
 off excursions among the Indians. Kollner had not 
 written to Pinckney as yet; he could not blame him. 
 
 He labored at his tasks, though not quite know- 
 586
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 ing why. Of what avail was all this money he was 
 getting? He could not use it as he wished. The 
 charitable use, even, of mere money he disbelieved 
 in. He thought there was something deadening, de 
 moralizing in the power of dollars even spent in 
 charity. And with his Southern prejudices he dis 
 believed in State interference. He dreaded an in 
 stitutionalized society. He saw little good in the 
 institutionalized child. One must give of oneself; 
 individually, privately, naturally if everyone but 
 sought to humanize the neighbors among whom one s 
 own path led, there would be no " Problems " silly 
 word, silly capital letter. Our newspapers make of 
 all a Problem. " The Woman Problem " " the So 
 cial Problem " there is no " Problem " to Christian 
 ity. But Austin, knowing this, somehow could not 
 yet give his self not yet. 
 
 In verity, the wish of God was not plain to him 
 that year. Surely, to those nearest he had done his 
 duty? He had taken his boy across again, in the 
 autumn, and left him for the winter with his mother. 
 Then he went back in April ; he was able to stay but 
 a day or two (they met him, Dorothy and her sis 
 ter, in Paris), but before leaving them he had settled 
 them in a comfortable home in Surrey, near enough 
 to get to London for the theatre, within driving 
 distance of the races Epsom, Ascot, Henley di- 
 
 587
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 versions which Daisy, at least, demanded. His visit 
 had thus been very hurried ; but even in the few 
 hours he had passed alone with Dorothy he had been 
 struck with a growing calm, a self-control that had 
 been foreign to her, a certain steadiness of insight. 
 Undoubtedly it did her good to have the anxiety 
 about poor Daisy s career. It did her good to have 
 their child back ; she had worried over him. Puzzi had 
 been left on his favorite Riviera ; and Dorothy, when 
 she invited Daisy, had quietly told her that the house 
 was too small for the Brevier boy. At Cimiez Daisy 
 had been at a hotel ; now Dorothy frankly took her 
 in charge. " It is only silliness," she said to Austin, 
 " but it is such silly silliness ! " And Austin accepted 
 it all loyally, and showed a thoughtfulness in his 
 arrangements to make them happy for the summer 
 Perhaps, had he looked deep down in Dorothy s eyes, 
 he might have seen a certain expression that was 
 new to them. There had never been any mentionings 
 between them of the happenings at Gansevoort 
 Manor Gansevoort had made haste to marry he 
 had picked out the handsomest debutante of the en 
 suing year, a girl of an old New York family, but 
 with a modest fortune and extravagantly fond of 
 horses. 
 
 Then, when Austin was back in New York alone, 
 his wife s letters began to mention Mary Ravenel 
 
 588
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 One wonders if a deity that places such bolts of 
 levin in his little toys of pith, in the humor that the 
 tragic comedians from Aristophanes to Heine insist 
 on for an attribute divine, is ever moved, not to 
 Homeric laughter at their antics, but to compassion 
 of their strength. For sure it was that Austin lived 
 as if it were not, neither remembered, nor yet for 
 got. " Nor joy he had with vision of his lady s 
 eyes " yet never feigned a lie, putting it only aside 
 as if it were not, or were not for this world. Con 
 sciously he never thought of Mary Ravenel; yet he 
 willed the way he dreamed her wish to be. Unhappy 
 never, his life was not expressed in terms of happi 
 ness no more was Basil Conynghame s steady, 
 outlooking, sure. The heart, as a shrine, may be 
 empty when the angel s errand is done he had been 
 near to falling in the stony places, till upborne on 
 wings that saved his soul alive. An age away were 
 now those fearful days when he had seen no lights 
 but the will-o -the-wisp of the marsh an age away 
 even those days of higher sorrow when he had 
 yearned in vain for a sign, as a lost star to its sun 
 across the interspace of void. One moment they had 
 mutual sight ; then each had traveled forth on its 
 appointed orbit. It was enough that she knew. The 
 joy lay in that they were in one world together. 
 
 He plunged into politics. The two great forces 
 589
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 were at work that year and each in its own sphere 
 had its subtler reaction. Cardinal antagonism lay 
 between Pinckney and Haviland in their political 
 opinions, and yet, it may be hazarded, each of them 
 wished identically the same things like many others, 
 as representative government now finds. They dis 
 agreed only as to which badge, which party nick 
 name, mustered the fortuitous aggregation which 
 was most likely to attain them. For the extremists 
 the Medicis, the Mas anielos know well enough 
 what they want ; but the great honest multitude herd 
 between them like a doubting flock, determined either 
 way by the tune of a pipe, the color of a ribbon. 
 
 And Haviland was of those who believe that gov 
 ernments exist to produce prosperity ; and that the 
 intelligent few, seeing the way to get it, may well 
 be trusted to disseminate it among the masses. 
 While Pinckney thought that governments should 
 think, not of property, but of men : see to it that the 
 people are free, and they will look after the pence 
 themselves. Thus, John, for the Oligarchs, would 
 say, " Democracy counts noses a republic should 
 count heads." And Austin would answer, " The 
 heads too often look but to their own stomachs." To 
 which John, " The heads of to-day lead the noses of 
 to-morrow." And Austin, " The noses of the pack 
 may be sharper than the huntsman s eyes." " Noses 
 
 590
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 are blind." " Cassandra was blind." Then John 
 would laughingly curse epigram and bid him come 
 down to business. 
 
 For on " business " that year they were substan 
 tially agreed. John s party was in danger of ex 
 changing the last of its very birthrights for a mess 
 of pottage ; Austin s of losing its primal principle 
 in the slavery of socialism. And it seemed, as always, 
 that the extremes had but to meet to play into each 
 other s hands. A patriotic President had stripped 
 the clothing from the naked selfishness of his own 
 Congress, and property and privilege and power 
 were banded to regain control. And the honest, pa 
 tient people, desperate of liberty in democracy, 
 hopeless of the power of the citizen, were being lured 
 to make the State their ruler over many things, al 
 beit that it had proved faithless in a few. The astute 
 trust leaders, the wily demagogues, both saw their 
 chance; Markoff himself, ten times a millionaire, 
 secret agent of that very " Money Power " that even 
 Armitage had recognized, was actually in possession 
 of the Democratic machine while the government of 
 millions, by Millions, and for more Millions, seemed 
 all that the country needed to the party which had 
 once been Lincoln s. Pinckney and Haviland took 
 their several ways, but each was girded for the fight. 
 
 It was hopeless to get a renomination for the 
 591
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 President. His own officeholders were against him; 
 his senators, not a single one of whom would have 
 been reflected by the people, were sworn to his de 
 feat. Yet recognizing the popular revolt, wishing 
 to bow to it and still maintain touch with the " con 
 servative element," they thought of a man who was 
 now Governor of New York John Haviland. His 
 name met with instant popular response, but he was 
 " sounded " and not found pliable. He even told 
 them that their President had been right in all he 
 had tried to do, even in some things they had let be 
 done; it Avas even whispered that he had ventured 
 to doubt whether the people got all the benefits of 
 the present tariff. On Austin s side, things were 
 equally at sea, to the politicians, and even more un 
 satisfactory, to the intelligent. Pinckney was fond 
 of claiming a certain moral quality in their very 
 stupidity, but it looked as if they might nominate 
 a self -advertising millionaire who posed for a social 
 ist, with Markoff himself as the power behind the 
 throne. At this pass, Pinckney stepped down into 
 the arena; he took the stump. 
 
 The influences that Markoff represented were 
 already shown in the dry rot of the party organiza 
 tion. No party in America that reduces its rank and 
 file to the condition of mercenaries can hope perma 
 nently to succeed. The use of money may carry one 
 
 592
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 election, but renders success impossible for many 
 after years. Every country village will have a 
 handful at least of men whose party loyalty is 
 based on patriotic conviction ; who will serve faith 
 fully, year in, year out, in times of party success 
 and in times of failure, actuated only by that high 
 idealism that is the distinguishing feature of the 
 American character. These men cannot be bought, 
 nor are they motived by any personal political ambi 
 tion. They are found in both parties many a time 
 had John and Austin compared notes upon it and 
 nothing is more touching than their faithfulness, 
 more inspiring than the patriotism with which they 
 follow any leader whom they can believe embodies 
 their political ideal. But these men Pinckney found 
 already disgruntled at Markoff s methods, disgusted 
 with his rule. The use of a pitiful fifty, a hundred, 
 dollars for each little town, had rendered their 
 strong arms nerveless ; the men that now formed 
 town committees, Austin found, were those to whom 
 a few dollars on election day were a sufficient motive 
 to work. Such workers are valueless. They control 
 only their own votes and those of the town loafers. 
 For the use of money in the body politic is as alcohol 
 on the individual the dose must ever be greater, its 
 efficacy be ever less ; its ravages increase as the char 
 acter is impaired. The workingmen, this year, were 
 39 593
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 blindly throwing in their lot with the socialists ; while 
 the intelligence of the historic party remained supine. 
 Austin had been at work but a few days before 
 he suspected that Markoff was secretly fomenting 
 this movement. It is the failing of such intellects 
 as MarkofPs to welcome any system that will pre 
 serve their personal rule. Again Austin found him 
 self pitted against his old antagonist. And one 
 night in July, just before the national conventions, 
 the suspicion became a certainty. There was a great 
 political meeting in an important manufacturing 
 city in the western part of the State. Austin was 
 to speak, and was billed to speak last ; and every 
 speech preceding his attacked the enemy not with 
 principles of individual liberty, class freedom, de 
 struction of entrenched privilege but with all the 
 hopeless phrases of the surrender of liberty for a 
 promised crust of bread. The rusty weapons of 
 Lassalle and Marx were clumsily refitted to American 
 hands ; the evils of State where the State was su 
 preme were quoted to show that Americans, retro 
 grading their history, should build a State supremer 
 still; even unconscious of their inconsistency the 
 ravings of Chicago anarchists were repeated, attack 
 ing our juries, our courts, belittling the value of the 
 Anglo-Saxon s appeal to law. Hopelessly wrong- 
 headed, and yet so plausibly wrong ! Many ills they 
 
 594
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 stormed against were true enough , how to persuade 
 them that the remedy still was liberty, not slavery ; 
 destruction of all privilege, rather than a counter 
 privilege of their own? His very thoughts seemed 
 but dull generalities as he sat there, trying to think. 
 Then, as he turned to watch the effect of these others 
 upon the magnates upon the platform, he caught the 
 sardonic gleam of triumph in Markoff s eyes. 
 
 In another moment Pinckney was on his feet. 
 The words he spoke that night were famous. Greeted 
 at first with hootings and with catcalls, in a few 
 minutes more came roars of counter cheers ; then for 
 a time it seemed that the police must interfere ; then 
 steadily the derisive cries were stilled and the fair 
 cheers thundered with increasing volume as the ris 
 ing surf upon the sand. For he spoke as an Ameri 
 can, imbued with all the great traditions of his coun 
 try s birth, weighted with the charge of this our 
 time that bears her future, moved with the emotion 
 of one whose race had been bred that they might die 
 for her, live that they might labor only to set her 
 feet on her appointed path. He pleaded for no out 
 worn path of conquest, no smug commercial des 
 tiny, no exploitation of dependencies, still less of 
 their own people but that she, the country that was 
 the country of all of them, might only hold high to 
 the world s sight the soft lamp of liberty at home. 
 
 595
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 And then, before a multitude stilled in amazement, 
 he turned to Markoff and charged his wing of the 
 party with misleading them, with perverting the pub 
 lic fabric to base private ends, with secretly dealing 
 with the pretended enemy. 
 
 Markoff made no reply. He could make bold to 
 meet Pinckney in the courts ; he did not venture to 
 cope with him before an audience of four thousand 
 American citizens. At such moments he was, despite 
 all bluster, uneasily conscious of a difference between 
 them. He thought he understood America -almost, 
 he had been born there he had made all his money 
 among Americans he mistook for patriotism his 
 liking for a country that made such money-making 
 possible. But that night, more than ever before, he 
 tried, in vain, to put away his consciousness that 
 there was an American nation and that he was not 
 in touch with it. He despised this Pinckney, this old 
 schoolmate. He had beaten him in college, he had 
 beaten him in life. Yet while he could manipulate 
 a legislature, while he might by intrigue get to the 
 American Senate in the ultimate appeal to the peo 
 ple, it was Pinckney who spoke the language the 
 American people understood. 
 
 The meeting broke up in some disorder. Report 
 ers clustered about Austin, but he shook them off. 
 The hall was hot ; and still quivering with emotions, 
 
 596
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 he sought the outer air. As he came to the end of 
 the hall, John Haviland grasped his hand. " I 
 heard the last of it," he said. " I ran down here 
 from Elmira." 
 
 In the street a veritable mob surged about them. 
 With difficulty they secured a carriage ; John had 
 to take the night train for New York ; Austin was 
 to speak in Buffalo the following day. He left his 
 friend at the station and drove back to his hotel. A 
 bunch of telegrams were handed him at the hotel 
 office, as he asked for his key. It was usual to re 
 ceive many such during political campaigns, and he 
 opened them with a listless hand. The first one was 
 dated Rome New York? no, Italy and as he 
 read it his heart ceased beating: 
 
 " Mary Ravenel died last week at Taormina, Sicily. 
 
 "GERVAISE BRANDON." 
 
 LXV 
 
 THE doors of the shrine, long unwonted, had 
 been opened, its stone floor swept, its rock 
 walls garnished with many roses, with tall wild 
 mignonette, with Sicilian oleander; the old priest, 
 by whose kindness this had all been done, had said 
 his prayers for the soul of her whom he had never 
 
 597
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 seen ; then priest and acolyte had gone, and he was 
 left with her alone. The iron doors were locked 
 again ; the little shrine was dim ; only one lamp 
 burned there continually. The iron doors were open 
 gratings, yet no wind stirred the flame ; once a day 
 the Sicilian boy came in to fill it with oil. . 
 
 A thousand feet below, the summer sea gleamed, 
 all of turquoise and of jade its breath must have 
 kept the flowers from dying, as it stirred softly 
 among the leaves. The day she died, they had been 
 cut; but they bloomed still. 
 
 It was a chapel, long unused, dedicated to the 
 Virgin of the Sea ; and the battered little panel above 
 the shrine still showed her blue robe fresh, and the 
 gentle eyes of Stella Maris, bright as when an age 
 less faithless first had placed them there. The 
 chapel, hollowed in the lava rock, over a cliff path 
 long disused and now even dangerous, hung on one 
 of the spurs of Etna, and that eternal mountain 
 with its stole of snow swam dreamily in the sky above 
 him. Still, above the pall of ice, the lonely cloud 
 breathed from the fire, the fire eternal that was in its 
 heart and here, beneath that mighty pyre, her 
 friends had left her left her with many tears as 
 Basil Conynghame, her nearest surviving relative, 
 had sent them word to do ; and then had gone on 
 their way, a summer cruise amid the isles of Greece 
 
 598
 
 TAORMINA 
 
 One lamp burned there continually."
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 so fourteen days she rested there alone. Only once 
 a day this village priest, who (he and they who 
 went before him) for a century or more had kept 
 the light alive in the unvisited chapel, now came and 
 knelt to say his prayers for the soul of her who lay 
 there, a stranger whom he had never known, but as 
 now might lie, at peace, some long-expected guest. 
 
 For, in the sunshine of those purple seas, some 
 sudden secret shaft had smote the pulse of this one 
 and left the others unharmed. " He destroyetli the 
 perfect and the wicked. If the scourge slay sud 
 denly, He will laugh at the trial of the innocent ." 
 These were the words that Austin bore with him, 
 many days, watching the prow of his boat. The 
 cleft seas rolled merrily apart, the foam laughed 
 dancing down the yacht s sharp sides, the sweet 
 breeze brought its breath of citron groves and one 
 wave was like another as it went by. And he still 
 watched there, with wide-open eyes, praying for the 
 ship to go on faster. " He will laugh at the trial 
 of the innocent." But for his sins she had been 
 saved. 
 
 And then, on a day, he came to Sicily. And on 
 this morning the iron doors had opened, and he 
 came into her presence. 
 
 The priest had said his mass, then gone away 
 and left him. He stayed there. Then, in the even- 
 
 599
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 ing, the priest came again, and looked upon this 
 man, this stranger, that had lived that day with him. 
 And he saw that there was a change upon his face ; 
 it was as the light that now and again will come 
 upon a countenance from which the veil of Maia has 
 fallen so much so that the priest was moved to say, 
 His peace be with you ; and he answered, Peace. The 
 padre asked no questions as they walked back, not 
 even if the stranger was of his faith. " Fu molto 
 gentile la donna," he only said. " La ho veduta, 
 che fu gia morte. Ma era 1 aspetto di lei santissimo, 
 santissimo, cosi quelle che son in cielo." For Aus 
 tin had not seen her face. So one more night the 
 Stella Maris watched over her. But now the Vir 
 gin s shrine is empty once more ; only the little 
 lamp burns there continually. 
 
 Above them the snows of Etna lay in the moon s 
 light, and they took their way to the pebbled shore 
 where the small white yacht rose gently with the 
 breathing of the sea. Then they returned, with men, 
 an hour before the dawn, and before the sun lit up 
 the opposite Calabrian coast the little bark was as a 
 white moth upon the horizon. 
 
 Once more he took his station in the prow. 
 Westward, still westward, now, it cleft the foam 
 by Scylla, and Stromboli, by the pillars of Hercules, 
 the old world ended, into the broad Atlantic. The 
 
 600
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 crew now knew their errand, and no one troubled 
 him with questions ; he was alone, as he wished to be. 
 The green waves rose, and fell in foam, and broke 
 apart before him ; and one wave was like another as 
 it went by. Only now, it seemed, there was a Peace, 
 came dropping down from heaven. Father Conyng- 
 hame knew where he was no one else. He had let 
 him go, bade him go. And Father Conynghame was 
 walking now in his garden at home, and waiting. 
 
 It is the fashion to say, such days go by like a 
 dream ; yet the dream is an eternity. His vision 
 seemed more near to God, now that his heart was 
 still. She saw Him now, albeit the dust was in her 
 eyes. So, as his rebellious mood had left him, it 
 gave room for peace ; and the peace was even as a 
 joy. He saw now how one like Basil Conynghame 
 could see, one who had renounced the world for 
 knowledge of His truth. He saw how she could see, 
 she who had never sinned. The sense of sin had 
 fallen with the accident of flesh ; truly now he might 
 rejoice that she had lived; rejoice, yea, even that 
 their earthly meeting had not been willed. " Noth 
 ing was wasted " her life had had its fruit. Her 
 preparation had been fulfillment ; and now, far 
 above all stain of sex, his soul was one with hers. 
 Yet he had plucked wild flowers in the paths where 
 last she trod long mignonette and daffodil there 
 
 601
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 was no harm in this ; the flowers made a fragrance 
 by his bedside as he prayed. 
 
 Then, after many days, low shores appeared he- 
 fore him; the earthly journey he had taken with 
 her was come now to its end. lie landed, and what 
 was earthly of her was delivered to her friends. And 
 so she came to Laurel Run. The shrine in Sicily 
 was empty now, only, he knew, the little lamp burned 
 there continually. 
 
 LXVI 
 
 HE took his abode, for a day or two, with Basil 
 Conynghame and walked there in his garden. 
 It was not long to wait. 
 
 When Ravenel was sold, the little cemetery was 
 reserved, and Father Conynghame had kept the key. 
 And there, one afternoon in that same August, the 
 committal services were held. Her friends, her 
 nearer friends, all came there; Austin, his mission 
 done, now stood apart. He watched the mourners 
 they who had been nearer to her than he had ever 
 been. 
 
 All were there. First, the maidens and the old 
 people of Laurel Run, and they were crying. Fritz 
 Kollner walked alone. Grace and her husband John 
 had come, and a chosen group of them of the great 
 
 602
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 city whose lives she had uplifted. Hidden in a close 
 veil, he recognized the form of Mamie Rastacq, now 
 a widow. There, too, was Freddy Wiston. And 
 Father Basil, now the priest again, his gaunt visage 
 only living in his eyes, read out the deathless words. 
 The sacrament was over. 
 
 Long time they stayed there, after his voice was 
 still. Then one by one, dropping their lilies, these 
 who had so loved her went away. Austin then came, 
 with a spray or two of mignonette. 
 
 He had kept it so carefully all the way from 
 Sicily it might have been a flower that had touched 
 her hand. They stood there, these two Austin and 
 Basil after all the others had gone ; then they went 
 out together. Austin clasped, for the last time, his 
 hand ; then each took a different way. 
 
 The sun was setting now, and Austin sought the 
 steps of her deserted garden ; then up the mountain 
 he went, and through the dark forest ; then down one 
 last time by the laughing brook, the brook where 
 they had met and known. He knew that she had 
 known. Then, when it was quite dark, he bent his 
 steps once again to the grave. 
 
 It may have been an hour that he lay there, his 
 face on the ground. There was no danger now. 
 They were alone. Something of his soul was buried 
 
 603
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 there ; but his sin was buried too. Something of the 
 soul that she had saved. Then, at last, he arose and 
 looked about him. The vault of heaven was closely 
 sown with stars. So he went out, and took the open 
 road to the North. 
 
 But when he was surely gone, a tall black figure 
 came down from the hanging wood. It went in at 
 the graveyard gate, and bowed itself, one minute, on 
 the ground bowed itself, as Austin had done, a 
 minute only. Then it arose not hesitating, as Aus 
 tin had hesitated -it passed through the iron doors 
 for the last time and closed and locked them. There 
 were no more Ravenels. The priest then took the road 
 that led to the South there lay his work. 
 
 LXVII 
 
 DOROTHY, in the pretty home in Surrey, 
 waited for her husband. She had hoped he 
 would come to her that summer but of late years 
 she had grown so shy, so shy ! When he had been 
 those few days with her in the spring, she had not 
 even dared to tell him what she wished. 
 
 She had stayed abroad, those many years, as she 
 supposed, on Daisy s account. True, he had been 
 with her, always in the summer, sometimes even, as 
 
 604
 
 RAVENEL 
 
 "It passed through the iron doors tor the last time."
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 business had brought him to London, in the spring. 
 He would not hear of an English school for little 
 Austin, and the boy was now getting to the age to 
 go. But Austin, brought up in Baden, was intense 
 in his Americanism. And Dorothy herself had 
 learned to see why. At all events the life that she 
 had seen of those Americans who form what is known 
 as the American colony in Continental cities had 
 grown to impress itself on her as shallow, futile, 
 immoral. Two winters, at his suggestion (Dorothy 
 wished that Austin would sometimes command), she 
 had spent, with little Austin, at his German aunts 
 that indeed was a life, it had some dignity but its 
 only effect on the boy had been to render him at 
 once noisily patriotic and furiously homesick. And 
 Dorothy now was homesick too. 
 
 She humbly wondered that Austin did not see 
 some change in her, and then would even dismiss the 
 wonder with a sigh. The life that had dazzled her 
 was not American ; and now she was thirsting for 
 American life. She had taken to reading the news 
 papers ; she followed even the turn of politics, the 
 waves of popular impulse. She was glad that her 
 husband was in the struggle there ; New York, after 
 all, was the great arena where the forces of the 
 nation met. She knew as well as he did the crisis 
 they were in ; that the President was marked for 
 
 605
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 destruction in the house of his friends, the danger 
 that the other party would not seize the torch that 
 he had been compelled to drop. Timidly she would 
 write a word of this, a question now and then to 
 Austin ; his generous, full replies gave her some hap 
 piness. But she wanted to come home. 
 
 Much, too, she had seen of Mary Ravenel these 
 last four years. She may have learned to see a little 
 with her eyes. Certainly, she had so first felt the 
 stir of doubt ; and doubt is the quickening of faith ; 
 doubt of her past, faith in the way that he had 
 sought to lead. She had given her hand in his and 
 then withheld it. And now (she would cry to her 
 self) his heart was gone from her. 
 
 For it had needed the chill of tragedy. In the 
 first shock of that first step of shame her own 
 step (she shuddered now to confess), her own hand s 
 touch, which had so quickly stripped the mask from 
 Gansevoort s face she had seen the steps descend 
 ing as to a pit of slime and had shrunk back and 
 cowered, naked in ignominy. The gloss of fashion, 
 the excuse of custom, the bravado of the vulgar- 
 hearted, none of them now availed to make her see 
 such divorcing and remarrying other than as it was 
 the accoupling of animals or the selling and buy 
 ing of a better bargain. And in all her easy life, one 
 moment had led so imperceptibly to the next that 
 
 606
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 her eyes had only been opened on the very brink. In 
 horror of it, more in horror of herself, she had fled 
 away and hidden, lonely amid strange scenes, there 
 to consider herself. And now she began to think: 
 and Daisy s hopeless life was food for thought. 
 
 How can one tell, without a book of words, the 
 " tortures of some differing soul " ! There was, at 
 the first, shame, then loneliness, and many months of 
 suffering. The simple, haughty standard of that 
 life in Germany the tawdry, rootless rattle of the 
 Riviera and all this time, alone. Then once, and 
 once again some three years later, Mary Ravenel had 
 come. Their boy had had an illness, and they had 
 sent him home, and then, she had to forget herself 
 in her poor sister s lot. 
 
 So, whether it were maturity or sorrow or 
 the thinking only now of others the shock of her 
 mother s death, that day then Daisy had been a 
 care and sorrow to her There was no harm in her, 
 but then there was as yet no good! That silly boy, 
 Brevier, had followed them to England ; Puzzi, she 
 knew, was paying spies to effect a French divorce ; 
 and then this summer, the good old Major had come 
 to her aid. She could not but smile at the manner 
 of it now ! He had suggested the four weeks voyage 
 to the North Cape ; it was growing hot and dried up 
 even at Blackdown in that August. So she had 
 
 607
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 cabled Austin for his consent and got a cabled reply, 
 giving it ; he was going away too, and would meet 
 her in England on her return. But the deliverance 
 was not made as the Major contemplated. For the 
 Brevier boy got himself aboard the Prinzessin Luise 
 at the last moment. Only, there was also on board 
 an American girl of the regular, now almost classic 
 order. She had brown arms, bare usually to the 
 elbow, and a brown little neck ; she was hatless and 
 athletic, slender and pretty, a flirt as only a college 
 girl can flirt, and withal as honest as a daisy 
 and after three, midnight glacier climbs they re 
 turned she and the Brevier boy one morning, by 
 the early sun of half-past twelve or so, to announce 
 their engagement! She was just sixteen. Daisy s 
 only remark was that she looked older and Doro 
 thy made up for the gravity she had to enforce upon 
 herself before her sister by filling reams of hilarious 
 delight to Austin. True, she could not mail them, 
 but what did that matter? They were written to 
 him just the same. 
 
 So Daisy, on their return, announced her deter 
 mination to go home and live in Philadelphia. It 
 certainly had this advantage, that Puzzi would have 
 to go over there and make some show of decency or 
 Daisy herself could get a divorce and, spite of all 
 the reverence poor Dorothy now showed to all her 
 
 608
 
 IN CURE OFIIER SOUL 
 
 husband s convictions, she could not, for the life of 
 her, see why divorce did not just suit Daisy s case. 
 She had married him out of vanity ; her life was 
 bound to be vain short of a great sorrow, which 
 her nature was incapable of. Let the life led idly 
 be at least led decently. Austin would say, then let 
 them live apart. But even the silly little Brevier boy 
 had shown her what might come of this. " Whom 
 God hath joined together Yes, but had He 
 joined them together? It was blasphemy to say so 
 in Daisy s- case. Now, in her own 
 
 And then the agony of self-communing would 
 recur. At least though, with her, there had been 
 honest love yes, honest love not indeed such love 
 as now. She had, for love, that old day thrown 
 Gansevoort over for Austin. Many tears had 
 learned the road to Dorothy s eyes, those days. 
 That love was not enough. But now If Austin 
 could know ! If Austin would but know ! She was 
 starving she was starving for a word of love. 
 And now she had forfeited the right to tell him. 
 
 Mary Ravenel had known. Even Mamie Rastacq 
 knew. And she herself knew, Dorothy knew, that she 
 had changed. She knew that she had changed. But it 
 sometimes seemed to her that he had not tried to see. 
 Even the Major saw. The Major had been very 
 friendly with her that summer, and he had not been 
 
 609
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 friendly for many years. Little Austin would some 
 times say, " Why, mama, you are crying " and she 
 would clasp him passionately in her arms. But so, 
 the chrysalis was broken. She had found her soul. 
 
 To Austin, who once had been so nigh to losing 
 his, God s messenger had laid aside the mask. Once 
 more the ocean waves divided, this time beneath the 
 stem of an ocean steamer. On its deck he walked, 
 no longer numbering the Atlantic billows as one 
 might tell a chain of beads. He seemed like a man 
 whose steps would falter not. He walked like one 
 to whom the way had been made clear. The dark 
 ness that lay on the face of the waters was no longer 
 lonely, the way before his steps was filled with light. 
 
 In the madness of that first voyage he had come 
 nigh to cursing God that he had ever been. He 
 had groaned aloud that she might still have lived, 
 had it not been for him. He had cried once that 
 she had died because of his sin. Then, as if it had 
 been by her intercession, at the grave had come a 
 sense of blessedness. God s will had wrought all and 
 not his froward own. She had lived, and the earth 
 was kindlier because her soul had dwelt there. Her 
 preparation had been fulfillment ; and now her soul 
 was where the morning stars sang together, yea, for 
 
 joy. 
 
 610
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 And Last of all his heart now yearned to her that 
 was his wife, the wife of his youth his hand had 
 never strengthened her, his heart had not been there 
 to comfort her. First, now, he saw the strength of 
 his own creed. Their bond had been at first of pas 
 sion ; there it had failed. Yet might it grow to be a 
 sacrament? And as he hastened up the path, he saw 
 her waiting there, his wife, the mother of his child. 
 One moment she looked up to his eyes and knew, 
 for the last time, tears. For through them she saw 
 that he too knew. 
 
 " God, on each morrow, sends another day." 
 Dorothy, that very night, told him she was going 
 home. He had answered, Yes. And now she was 
 already in the house, happy in making her prepara 
 tions. He sat in the garden, dreaming, under a soft 
 English sky. Beside him came down, from golden 
 haunts of moss and heather, the murmur of a little 
 brook. And its voice brought to his memory the 
 little brook that met the sea on Mrs Shirley s lawn. 
 
 Then a servant brought him a telegram. Its 
 very words breathed of a keener sky it was from 
 John, and told him of his nomination for the presi 
 dency. The outworn bonds of party had been burst, 
 and at last the people of both parties had come 
 
 611
 
 IN CURE OF HER SOUL 
 
 together. There was a revolt against both nomina 
 tions, and they had called on Haviland. " The Presi 
 dent too is with us ; come at once. You must speak, 
 here, and in the West. Armitage is at work already 
 there. I need you; there is work for my Attorney 
 General." 
 
 Austin sent the servant to call Dorothy. Then 
 he sat down in the library and wrote his telegram 
 that he would come. 
 
 It was the next thing to do. 
 
 (i) 
 
 FINIS 
 
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 leisurely charm of the story by close character drawing of the unusual 
 types in this eddy of American life." Booklovers, Philadelphia. 
 
 " The House of Hawley/ by Elmore Elliott Peake is one of the 
 homiest stories we have met in a long while. . . . Instead of calling 
 so often for the great American novel, perhaps we should give more 
 attention to the many good American novels, of which The Mouse of 
 Hawley is one, containing faithful and interesting portrayal of life in 
 some one of the many and diversified sections of the country." 
 
 New York Globe. 
 
 " The House of Hawley is a fresh, readable story by Elmore Elliott 
 Peake, the theme of which is laid in the Egypt of southern Illinois. 
 The title fits better than usual, and the characters depicted are real 
 people. There is not a single stick of dead timber among the various 
 men and women." Chicago Record- Her aid. 
 
 " If you have ever lived in southern Illinois or the Missouri and 
 Kentucky neighborhoods on the opposite banks of the Mississippi and 
 Ohio rivers, you may make a pleasant holiday trip there through the 
 pages of this book. The word pictures are as faithfully rendered as if 
 done by the lens of a kodak." Minneapolis Times. 
 
 "There is not a dull page in the whole book. It is well worth 
 reading." St. Louis Star. 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
 
 A GREAT ROMANTIC NOVEL. 
 
 The Reckoning. 
 
 By ROBERT W. CHAMBERS. Illustrated by 
 Henry Hutt. $1.50. 
 
 "A thrilling and engrossing tale." New York Sun. 
 
 " When we say that the new work is as good as Cardigan it 
 is hardly necessary to say more." The Dial. 
 
 " Robert Chambers books recommend themselves. The 
 Reckoning is one of his best and will delight lovers of good 
 novels." Boston Herald. 
 
 " It is an exceedingly fine specimen of its class, worthy of its 
 predecessors and a joy to all who like plenty of swing and spirit." 
 
 London Bookman. 
 
 " Robert W. Chambers stories of the revolutionary period in 
 particular show a care in historic detail that put them in a different 
 class from the rank and file of colonial novels." Book News. 
 
 " A stirring tale well told and absorbing. It is not a book to 
 forget easily and it will for many throw new light on a phase of 
 revolutionary history replete with interest and appeal." 
 
 Chicago Record-Herald. 
 
 " Chambers bullets whistle almost audibly in the pages ; when 
 a twig snaps, as twigs do perforce in these chronicles, you can 
 almost feel the presence of the savage buck who snaps it. Then 
 there are situations of force and .effect everywhere through the 
 pages, an intensity of action, a certain naturalness of dialogue and 
 human nature in the incidents. But over all is the glamor of the 
 Chambers fancy, the gauzy woof of an artist s imagination which 
 glories in tints, in poesies, in the little whims of the brush and 
 pencil, so that you have just a pleasant reminder of unreality and 
 a glimpse of the author himself here and there to vary the interest." 
 
 Si. Louis Republic. 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.