y 
 
 
 
 ROBERT WlCliv\MB5 
 

 
What s the use/ she said, of kissing a girl who is 
 engaged ? 
 
 [Page 308.] 
 
OF f)EAVEN 
 
 Robert W. Chambers 
 
 AUTHOR OF "THE FIGHTING CHANCE," 
 "IOLE," "THE TRACER OF LOST 
 
 PERSONS," ETC. 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
 NEW YORK MCMVII 
 
 4 
 
COPTKIQHT, 1907, BT 
 
 ROBERT W. CHAMBERS 
 
 Published Ma,y t 
 

 TO MY FRIEND 
 AUSTIN CORBIN 
 
 912828 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. THE CARPET OF BELSHAZZAR . . . . 1 
 
 II. THE SIGN OF VENUS 40 
 
 III. THE CASE OF MR. HELMER . . . . 60 
 IV. THE TREE OF DREAMS ..... 77 
 
 V.THE BRIDAL PAIR 128 
 
 VI. Ex CURIA , . .153 
 
 VII. THE GOLDEN POOL 176 
 
 VIII. OUT OF THE DEPTHS 200 
 
 IX. THE SWASTIKA 218 
 
 X. THE GHOST OF CHANCE 258 
 
 vii 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 FACINQ 
 
 PAGE 
 
 " What s the use, she said, of kissing a girl 
 who is engaged? " .... Frontispiece. 
 
 "She dropped her head, striking chord on chord 
 
 with nervous precision" . . . . .14 
 
 " The girl in black stood motionless, watching him 
 
 intently" 66 
 
 "At the foot of the stairs she . . . made him a 
 
 low reverence" 174 
 
 ix 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE CARPET OF BELSHAZZAR 
 
 WE all were glad to see him; on his return he 
 had found us all his friends. Nobody had spoken 
 to him about his abrupt departure from New York ; 
 nobody had mentioned Westover; nothing con 
 nected with that episode was even hinted at by any 
 of us, I believe, during his short sojourn among 
 us. It was he himself who spoke of it first. 
 
 Of course during his absence we had followed 
 his career ; many among us had read and tried to 
 understand what he had written in his three world- 
 famous volumes, " Occult Philosophy," " The 
 Weight of Human Souls," and " The Interstellar 
 Laws of Psychic Phenomena." 
 
 It seemed, at times, here to us in America, that 
 it was impossible that the man we had known so 
 well could have become the great Psychic Scientist 
 who had written these three astounding works 
 who now occupied the Chair of Psychical Philos- 
 
 1 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 ophy in the great University of Trebizond the 
 man who was the confidential adviser of the Shah 
 of Persia, the mentor of the Ameer of Afghanistan, 
 the inspirer of the greatest diplomat of all the 
 East the late Akhound of Swat. 
 
 As he sat there in his immaculate evening dress, 
 bronzed, youthful looking, presiding so quietly at 
 the little dinner which he had given to us as a half- 
 formal, half -intimate leave-taking before he sailed, 
 it seemed to us incredible that this man, now on 
 his return journey to Trebizond via Lhassa, could 
 be the beloved and dreaded arbiter of Asiatic poli 
 tics the one white man in all the Orient who had 
 ever been wholly respected, and absolutely feared 
 by the temporal and spiritual heads of nations, 
 religions, clans, and sects. 
 
 That, of course, he was what is popularly known 
 as an adept, we supposed. What his wisdom, his 
 insight, his amazing knowledge of the occult might 
 include, we preferred, rather uncomfortably, not 
 to conjecture. 
 
 There is, naturally, in all of us a childlike de 
 sire to hear of marvels ; there is also a stronger 
 and more childish desire to see miracles performed. 
 
 I am quite sure that we all hoped he might per 
 haps care to do something for us merely to con 
 vince us. And at first, I know that many among 
 
 2 
 
THE CARPET OF BELSHAZZAR 
 
 us, seated there in the private room at the Lenox 
 Club, felt a trifle ill at ease and a little in 
 awe of this man with whom we were at such close 
 quarters. 
 
 There was nothing particularly remarkable 
 about the dinner ; it was the usual excellent aff air 
 one might expect at the Lenox ; the wines perfect, 
 the service flawless. 
 
 And now, smoking our cigars, lounging in 
 groups over the flower-laden table, we fell into the 
 old, intimate, easy channels of conversation, chat 
 ting of past days, of our hopes and ambitions. 
 
 And our host, quiet, self-contained, pushed back 
 his chair, looking somewhat curiously, I thought, 
 from one to the other. And I thought, too, as his 
 pleasant bronzed features changed from a faint 
 smile to a graver expression, and then reverted to 
 the smile for a moment, that he seemed to see some 
 thing in each of us that was perhaps hidden from 
 ourselves that, as his eyes swept us, he was not 
 only capable of reading much of what was not 
 understood by us, but also something in the hid 
 den future which awaited each of us. 
 
 So strongly did this idea begin to take hold of 
 me that it began to make me uneasy. I felt, too, 
 that others among us harbored that same idea 
 for the conversation was less accented now, and in- 
 
 3 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 termittent ; voices had fallen to a lower, quieter 
 pitch; and after a little nobody spoke. 
 
 Then I saw that we all were looking straight 
 at our host, as though under some subtle and fas 
 cinated compulsion. 
 
 He sat very still ; his composure appeared a trifle 
 forced, as though he had voicelessly summoned 
 us to concentrate upon him our attention, and was 
 now searching for the exact words for some state 
 ment which he had meant to make to us all. 
 
 After a moment a slight flush crept over his 
 handsome face. He said: 
 
 " You fellows are very good to come here and 
 let me take leave of you so pleasantly. You have 
 been very kind to me since I have come again among 
 you. The sort of friendship that asks nothing 
 but takes a man for granted is a good sort. Hel 
 mer," he looked at the sculptor Helmer " I shall 
 see you soon again." We all turned in surprise 
 to Helmer, who seemed as surprised as we were. 
 " I shall see you sooner than you expect. . . . 
 Smith ! " he smiled at J. Abingdon Smith, 3d 
 " some day you will uproot a Tree of Dreams, 
 but not the dream, Smith; that will become very 
 real when you awake as true " and he turned 
 to the man on his left " as true as a dream which 
 you shall dream under the Sign of Venus." 
 
 4 
 
THE CARPET OF BELSHAZZAR 
 
 We sat there breathless, expectant. He was 
 doing something after all ; he was prophesying, in 
 a curious sort of manner, probably speaking in 
 symbols. And though we could not understand, 
 we listened while the little shivers fluttered our 
 pulses. 
 
 Then he looked at Edgerton, smiling; and 
 Edgerton flushed up and looked back at him, al 
 most defiantly. 
 
 " Edgerton," he said, " don t worry too much. 
 What is not to be settled in court can sometimes be 
 settled ex curia" And to the young man on his 
 right : " Doctor, don t overwork. If you do you 
 will learn a stranger truth than is locked up among 
 the molecules and atoms in your laboratory ! " 
 
 Then he leaned across the table and laid one 
 hand on Leeds s shoulder. " I congratulate you," 
 he said, smiling ; "you ve got a good-natured ghost 
 following you about. But he ll leave you if you 
 turn idle. And don t be afraid, my boy." 
 
 " I m not afraid," said young Leeds, rather 
 pallid, but straightening up in his chair. 
 
 Our host laughed; then his face changed, and 
 he raised his eyes to Shannon : 
 
 "Where is Harrod? " he asked slowly. 
 
 "At Bar Harbor," replied Shannon, "I be 
 lieve." 
 
 5 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " I thought so. And remember one thing 
 there is a certain law which governs the validity 
 of a check drawn to a man s order when that check 
 has been signed by a man no longer living. But, 
 Shannon, the intention is the important thing in 
 such a matter." 
 
 " What, exactly, do you mean ? " asked Shan 
 non, astonished. 
 
 But our host had already turned to Escourt: 
 
 " Captain," he said, " you sail when ? " 
 
 " I have no sailing orders," laughed Escourt. 
 
 " Not yet ? " Our host looked quietly at the 
 young officer. " Well, it isn t the length of a 
 voyage that counts, Escourt nor the size of the 
 troopship. No ; you will anchor, some day, in a 
 smaller craft than you started in, in the Port of 
 the Golden Pool." 
 
 Escourt, still smiling, waited ; but our host sat 
 silent, head bent, one hand on the edge of the table 
 cloth. 
 
 " Not one of you," he said, without raising 
 his eyes, " not one among you but who shall come 
 face to face with what you still consider miracles. 
 . . . Even Hildreth, yonder" Hildreth jumped 
 " even Hildreth shall learn from the Swastika." 
 
 " Swa swat? What what? " stammered Hil 
 dreth. 
 
 6 
 
THE CARPET OF BELSHAZZAR 
 
 " Nothing to alarm you," smiled the other ; then 
 again the swift shadow fell across his face. 
 
 " Not one man among you who has not proven 
 his friendship for me," he said, looking up and 
 around. And to me he added : " You must prove 
 it still further by telling fearlessly to the world 
 what there will be to tell after I have gone, and 
 after my words have been proven the words I 
 have spoken here to-night and which no one 
 among you understands. . . . But you all will 
 understand them. And when the last man among 
 you has understood " turning again to me 
 " you must bear witness to the world, bear witness 
 in printed page and over your own signature. Do 
 you promise ? " 
 
 " Yes," I said. 
 
 Then very quietly he looked around the table, 
 and leaned forward, regarding each man in turn. 
 
 " I think," he said, " that it is time you under 
 stood exactly the facts about which you have for 
 borne to question me. And I mean to tell you 
 before we part; I mean to tell you the truth con 
 cerning Westover and all that happened. . . . 
 And when you know these facts, then you may be 
 gin to surmise why I went to Trebizond, why I re 
 main, and and what miracle of happiness I have 
 found there for the third time reincarnated." 
 2 7 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 He leaned back in his chair; his clear eyes be 
 came fixed and dreamy. Then he began to speak, 
 in a low voice, as though to himself : 
 
 * 
 
 Time, and the funeral of Time, alas ! and the 
 Old Year s passing-bell! Whistles from city and 
 river, deep horns sounding from the foggy docks ; 
 and under my window a voice and a song ah ! that 
 young voice in the street below calling me through 
 the falling snow ! 
 
 If it be true that Time makes all hurts well, I 
 do not know ; and " a thousand years in Thy sight 
 is but as yesterday when it is passed, and as a 
 watch in the night " ; a thousand years ! And this 
 also is true; the flames of love make hot the fur 
 nace of Abaddon. 
 
 We were in the gallery as usual, Geraldine and 
 I the gallery where the carpets of the East were 
 hung along the shadowy walls. For lately it was 
 my pleasure to acquire rare rugs, and it was my 
 profession to furnish expert opinion upon the age 
 and origin of Oriental carpets, and to read and 
 interpret the histories of forgotten emperors and 
 the mysteries of long-forgotten gods from the col 
 ors and intricate flowery labyrinths tied in silk or 
 
 8 
 
THE CARPET OF BELSHAZZAR 
 
 wool to the warps of some dead sultan s lustrous 
 tapestry. 
 
 Here in the long sky gallery hung my own rugs 
 against the arabesque incrusted-ivory panels Ta 
 briz, Shiraz, Sehna, and Saruk a somber blaze of 
 color shot with fire all rare, some priceless ; 
 Turkish Kulah, softly silky as a golden lion s hide, 
 Persian Sehna, shimmering with rose and violet 
 lights, fiercely brilliant rugs from Samarkand, 
 superbly flowered, secreting deep in every floral 
 thicket traceries of the ancient Mongol conqueror ; 
 Feraghans glowing like jewel-sewn velvets set with 
 the Herati and the lotus symbols of Egypt or of 
 China, as you please to interpret the oldest pattern 
 in the world. 
 
 Far in the gallery s amber-tinted gloom the red 
 of Ispahan dominated, subduing fiery vistas to 
 smoldering harmony through which, like a vast 
 sapphire set in opals, glimmered the superb lost 
 Persian blue. 
 
 There was one other rug, an Eighur, the famous 
 so-called " Babilu," or " Carpet of Belshazzar " ; 
 but it hung alone in imperial magnificence be 
 hind the locked doors of a marble room, which it 
 seemed to fill with a soft luster of its own, radiat 
 ing from the mystic " Tree of Heaven " woven in 
 its center. 
 
 9 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 We were, as I say, in this gallery; Geraldine 
 poring over an illuminated volume on cuneiform 
 inscriptions, I, with pad and pencil, idly shifting 
 and reshifting the Kufic key to the ancient cipher, 
 which always left me stranded where I had begun 
 with the stately repetition: 
 
 (( King of Kings 
 King of Kings 
 King of Kings " 
 
 As for Westover, my cousin, he was, as usual, in 
 the laboratory fussing with his venomous extracts 
 an occupation which, to my dismay, he had taken 
 up within the year, working, as he explained, on 
 the theory that every poison has its antidote. Yet 
 it seemed to me that he was more anxious to in 
 vent some new and subtle toxic than to devise the 
 remedy. 
 
 From where I sat I could not see him, but the 
 crystalline tinkle of his glass retorts and bottles 
 distracted my attention from the penciled calcula 
 tions. Without moving my head, I glanced across 
 the room at Geraldine. She looked up immediately, 
 raising her level eyebrows in mute inquiry as 
 though I had moved or spoken ; then, realizing that 
 I had not, she bent above the book once more, the 
 warm color stealing to her cheeks. 
 10 
 
THE CARPET OF BELSHAZZAR 
 
 Within the year a wordless intimacy had grown 
 up between us; we never understood it, never ac 
 knowledged it, and at times it disconcerted us. 
 
 I sat silent, tracing with my pencil series after 
 series of futile Kufic combinations with the cunei 
 forms, but ever the first turn of the ancient key 
 creaked in my ears, 
 
 " King of Kings 
 King of Kings " 
 
 until the triverbal reiteration wore on my nerves. 
 
 Geraldine leaned back abruptly, closing her book. 
 
 " I m tired and nervous," she said. " You may 
 wear out your eyes and temper if you choose and 
 you re doing the latter, for I m as restless as an 
 eel. Besides, I m lonely, and I m going back to the 
 East if you ll come, too." 
 
 I laughed, understanding what she meant by the 
 " East." 
 
 " Will you come with me ? " she insisted. 
 
 " Yes," I said, " whenever you are ready." 
 
 She sprang to her feet, scattering the illumi 
 nated pages over the floor, and stood an instant 
 facing me, tall, dark-eyed, smiling, brushing back 
 the lustrous hair from her cheeks. 
 
 " Where is Jim? " she asked although we both 
 knew. 
 
 11 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " In the laboratory," I replied mechanically. 
 
 Still busy with her hair, she regarded me dream 
 ily out of those dark, sweet eyes of hers. 
 
 " It would be wonderful," she mused, " if Jim 
 should find an antidote to death ; but I wish it were 
 not necessary to kill so many little helpless crea 
 tures. Did you hear that pitiful sound in there 
 yesterday ? Was it something he was killing ? " 
 
 " I don t know," I said. And after a silence : 
 " What are you going to do? " 
 
 She shook her head vaguely and leaned against 
 the window, looking out into the rain. 
 
 " Shall we go back to our inscriptions ? " I sug 
 gested. 
 
 She shook her head again. After a while she 
 turned away from the window, stifling a dainty 
 yawn, and stretched out, languidly straightening 
 up to the full height of her young body. 
 
 " I feel stupid," she said ; " I m tired of crypto 
 grams and the pages of dusty books. I m tired of 
 the rain, too. The languor of April is in me. I m 
 homesick for lands I never knew. So come back 
 to the East with me, Dick." 
 
 She held out her hand to me with a confident 
 little smile; and knowing what she meant, I ac 
 quiesced in her caprice, and conducted her solemnly 
 to the piano, leaving her before it. 
 12 
 
THE CARPET OF BELSHAZZAR 
 
 She stood there for a space, musing, her lovely 
 head bent; then, still standing, she struck a se 
 quence of chords chords pulsating with color ; 
 and through them flashed strange little trills like 
 threads of tinsel. 
 
 " This is an Eighur carpet I am dreaming of," 
 she murmured, as the music swelled, glowing as 
 tints and hues glow in the old dyes of the East. 
 
 Wave on wave of color seemed to spread from the 
 keys under her fingers ; she looked back at me over 
 her shoulder with a warning nod. 
 
 66 1 shall begin to weave very soon. Khiounnou 
 horsemen may appear and frighten me for a mo 
 ment but I shall finish. Listen ! I am at the 
 loom." 
 
 Seating herself, she developed out of the flow 
 ing, somber harmony a monotonous minor theme, 
 suddenly checked by a distant rattle like the clatter 
 of nomad lances on painted stirrups ; then she 
 picked up the thread of the melody again, dropped 
 it, breathless for a moment s quivering silence, re 
 sumed it, twisting it into delicate arabesques, 
 threading it across the dull, rich harmonies, at first 
 slowly, then faster, faster, swift as the flying fin 
 gers of a nomad maid tying fretted silver in a 
 Ghiordes knot. The whirring tempo was the 
 cadence of the loom ; soft feathery notes flew like 
 13 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 carded wool; thicker, duller, softer grew the 
 fabric, dense, silky, heavily lustrous. 
 
 Suddenly she broke the thread off short, the 
 whole fabric falling with a muffled shock. 
 
 "Why did you do that?" I demanded wrath- 
 fully. 
 
 " The rug is woven ; the weaver is dead," she 
 said. 
 
 " Oh, go on, Geraldine," I insisted ; " don t stop 
 half way in a thing like that. It s the East it s 
 the real East, I tell you. How you do it you 
 who have never seen the East Heaven only 
 knows ! " 
 
 " U Allah Aalem," she murmured ; " it s in me." 
 Then she looked back at me, laughing. " Centuries 
 ago you and I heard that music along the Arax 
 or I sang it among the Tcherkess roses for you, 
 perhaps perhaps in the gardens of Trebizond." 
 
 " That might explain it," I said gravely. Late 
 ly she had found pleasure in a fancy that she and 
 I had lived together in the East, centuries since, 
 and that we were soon to return forever. 
 
 " You and I," she mused, touching the keys 
 lightly " and Jim, of course," she added. 
 
 " Of course," I said. 
 
 She dropped her head, striking chord on chord 
 with nervous precision ; and hanging in the wake 
 
THE CARPET OF BELSHAZZAR 
 
 of every ringing harmony a frail melody floated 
 like the Chinese cloud band in a Kirman tapestry. 
 
 "What s that air?" I asked, fascinated. 
 
 " I don t know; it sounds pagan, doesn t it? 
 like the wicked beauty of Babylon. Do you hear 
 how it beats on and on like the rhythm of naked 
 feet little, delicate, naked feet ablaze with gems 
 the feet of Herodiade perhaps thud thud 
 tching! don t you hear them, Dick? And now 
 listen to those silky, flowery trills! They re Asi 
 atic; ancient Cathay is awaking camel bells in 
 the hazar of the Golden Emperor! Hark! now 
 you hear trumpets, don t you? Well, of course 
 that must be the Mongols marching with the 
 Prince of the Vanguard. Hark! How savagely 
 the brutal Afghan theme breaks in with its fierce 
 trampling and the staccato echo of Tekke drums ! 
 It s frightening me out of the East. I think 
 we had better come home, Dick," she added, mis 
 chievously running into the latest popular street 
 song. 
 
 " How on earth could you do that ! " I exclaimed 
 wrathfully. " You re a futile mixture of feather 
 brain and genius ! " 
 
 But where was the genius hidden under that 
 laughing and exquisite mask confronting me? 
 Suddenly the delicate mask became grave. 
 15 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " Let me laugh when I can, Dick," she said. " It 
 is not often I laugh." 
 
 I was silent. 
 
 " Of course you may be horrid if you choose," 
 she observed with a shrug, running a brilliantly 
 inane series of trills from end to end of the key 
 board. " But it s no use scolding, for I won t 
 study, I won t compose, I won t try to do some 
 thing, and I won t be serious. I m shallow, I m 
 frivolous, I ve the soul of a Trebizond dancing girl, 
 and I like it. Now what are you going to do ? " 
 
 " I m going out," I said ungraciously. 
 
 Oh alone?" 
 
 " Not if you ll come. It s stopped raining. 
 Will you come? Oh, get your hat, Geraldine, and 
 stop that torment of idiotic trills ! " 
 
 " If Jim doesn t mind, I think I ll go and sit in 
 the laboratory with him," she observed carelessly. 
 
 I looked at her without comment. 
 
 " I have a curious idea," she continued, " that 
 he might like to have me around to-day while he 
 is working." 
 
 I stared at her, but there was no bitterness in 
 her tranquil smile as she leaned forward, resting 
 her elbows on the polished rosewood case. 
 
 " So I won t go with you, Dick," she said slowly. 
 
 One of those intervals of restless silence, which 
 16 
 
THE CARPET OF BELSHAZZAR 
 
 within the year we had learned to dread, menaced 
 us now. Mute, motionless, I watched the soft color 
 deepening in her face, then, impatient, roused my 
 self and walked over to the laboratory. Westover 
 looked up as I pushed aside the screen. 
 
 " Will you drive with us ? " I asked. " The sun s 
 out." 
 
 He declined, peering at me through his glass 
 mask. 
 
 " Come on, Jim," I urged. " You ve inhaled 
 enough poison for one day. Take off your mask 
 and wash your hands and drive us out to High 
 Bridge. I ll telephone to the stable if you say the 
 word, and they ll hook up the new four. Is it a 
 go?" 
 
 " No," he said coldly, and turned on his heel, 
 lifting a test tube to the light. 
 
 He was more taciturn and a trifle uglier than 
 usual. I watched him for a moment warming the 
 test tube over a burner, then without further par 
 ley replaced the screen, closed the double glass 
 doors, and walked back to Geraldine. 
 
 " Doesn t Jim care to come? " she asked. 
 
 I said that her husband appeared to be absorbed 
 in his work. 
 
 " Very well," she said, with airy composure ; 
 "trot along, Dicky and if you see a bunch of jon- 
 
 17 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 quils growing on Fifth Avenue, you may pick 
 them for me or for that pretty girl you met at 
 Lakewood " 
 
 " I ll send you a bunch as big as a bushel." 
 
 " A bushel of flowers is as compromising as a 
 declaration," she said. " Send them to her." 
 
 " There s only one way to settle it," I said; " I ll 
 send them to the loveliest girl in the world 
 shall I?" 
 
 She assented, laughing uncertainly. 
 
 " I think I ll pay Jim a little call," she said, ris 
 ing from the piano and walking slowly toward the 
 laboratory. 
 
 A few moments later as I passed down the broad 
 stairway I heard Westover s penetrating voice: 
 " Let that glass tube alone, Geraldine ! Why the 
 devil can t you keep your hands off things when 
 you come in here ? " 
 
 I lingered for a while in the hallway, thinking 
 that she might change her mind and come down, 
 for she had left the laboratory to her husband, and 
 I heard her moving about in her own apartment. 
 She did not come, and after a little while I left 
 the house, a sense of apprehension depressing me. 
 
 The asphalt of Fifth Avenue was still wet with 
 the first warm rain of April, but the sun glittered 
 18 
 
THE CARPET OF BELSHAZZAR 
 
 on window and pavement and flashed along the pol 
 ished panels of carriages crowding the avenue 
 from curb to curb. A breath of spring had set 
 the sparrows chattering and chirping; the move 
 ment of the throng, the bright gowns, the fresh 
 faces of young girls, and the endless fa9ades of 
 glass reflecting it all were pleasant to me, a man 
 sensitive to impressions. 
 
 And so in the pale sunshine I sauntered on 
 through the throng, now idling curiously by some 
 shop window whither a display of jewels or curios 
 attracted me, now strolling on again content with 
 the soft color in sky and sunlight. 
 
 I found a florist whose shop windows were filled 
 with thickets of fragrant, fragile spring flowers ; 
 and every little scented blossom that I touched, 
 choosing the freshest, nodded to the voiceless 
 cadence of a name repeated and : " Geraldine ! 
 Geraldine ! " they nodded, so confidently, so sweet 
 ly, that what was I to do but send them to her ? 
 
 And so I sauntered on again, threading the 
 throng, half-minded to turn back, yet ever tempted 
 on by idleness, until above me the twin spires of the 
 cathedral glimmered, all silvered in the shimmering 
 blue. 
 
 Halting, undecided, I presently became aware of 
 an old man, his withered hands crossed before him, 
 19 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 standing quite patiently under the cathedral ter 
 race. Before him on the sidewalk rested a basket 
 draped with a brilliant rug or two and heaped with 
 tawdry rubbish scarlet fezzes, slippers of span 
 gled leather, tasseled charms of gilt, flimsy striped 
 fabrics all the worthless flummery known as 
 " Oriental " to the good peoples of the West. 
 
 Few stopped to look; no one bought. As I 
 passed him his dimmed gaze met mine ; all the wist- 
 fulness of the very poor, all the mystery of the 
 very, very old, was in his eyes. Moved by impulse, 
 perhaps, I spoke to him in a low voice, using the 
 Turkish language. 
 
 A dull animation came into his misty eyes. 
 
 " Allahou Ekber," he muttered, in a trembling 
 voice ; " it is sweet to hear your words, my son." 
 
 " Mussulman," I said, " who are you who recite 
 the Tekbir here under the spires of a Roman 
 church?" 
 
 " Is there harm in bearing witness to the glory 
 of God here under the minarets of your cathe 
 dral ? " he asked humbly. 
 
 " Spire and minaret are one to Him," I said. 
 " Who are you, Mussulman ? " 
 
 " My name is Khassar," he said ; " my nation 
 Eighur ; my lort is the Issig-Kul ; Bai on-Aoul my 
 clan. I am an Eighur Turk, a Khodja ; and I am 
 20 
 
THE CARPET OF BELSHAZZAR 
 
 able to write the Turkish language in Arabic and 
 in Eighur-Mongol characters." 
 
 " Reverend father," I said, full of astonishment 
 and pity, " how should a Khodja of the Bai on-Aoul 
 come to this? Even the Tekrin horseman halts at 
 the sea." 
 
 " It is written," he said feebly, " that we belong 
 to God and we return to Him." 
 
 Troubled, I stood there on the sidewalk, oblivious 
 of the knot of idlers around us, curious to hear 
 two men so different conversing in a common 
 tongue. 
 
 I wished to give him something, yet did not 
 venture to humiliate him without pretense of buy 
 ing. 
 
 " Here is my card," I said, " on which is writ 
 ten my name and where I live. Bring me these 
 rugs to-night, ata. I wish to buy." 
 
 " You do not desire them," he said, shaking his 
 head. " You know the East ; you understand these 
 rugs; you know they are worthless, acid-washed, 
 singed, rubbed with pumice, smoked every vile 
 Armenian practice used! You know the dyes are 
 aniline; that they are loosely tied, hastily and 
 flimsily woven by Armenian dogs and sons of 
 dogs. You mean kindness; you have done me 
 enough by speaking to me." 
 21 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 He passed his trembling hand over his ragged 
 beard. 
 
 " You who know carpets and love them," he 
 quavered ; " listen attentively. I have a strip to 
 show not here but I could bring it." 
 
 " Bring it," I said gently. 
 
 He fumbled in the pocket of his tattered coat 
 and presently brought to light a scrap of paper 
 on which was scrawled some Persian characters. 
 
 " It is such a carpet as I have never seen," he 
 said ; " there is nothing in our history or our tra 
 ditions to teach us the meaning of this carpet 
 nothing save that it is an Eighur rug inscribed 
 in Persian and in an unknown script. I have 
 traced the characters in a single cartouche. Read, 
 my son." 
 
 And I read, translating freely : 
 
 " Ten thousand thousand stars shine down on Babylon. 
 The desert well reflects but one." 
 
 " I will bring the carpet," he said, after a si 
 lence. " I do not know its value ; it has no beauty 
 any longer ; only the ghost of ancient splendor re 
 mains in the thin knots clinging to warp and weft. 
 And it is old, my son, older than tradition. Upon 
 it there is not one sign to teach us the mystery of 
 its meaning." 
 
 22 
 
THE CARPET OF BELSHAZZAR 
 
 He peered at me with his old, sad eyes, earnestly. 
 
 " I will bring it," he said. " Go with Ali, thou 
 fair comrade of Hassan." 
 
 " May the Blessed Companions intervene for 
 you," I said. 
 
 And so we parted, gravely and with circum 
 stance, I to stroll homeward, touched, musing curi 
 ously upon this carpet of which a nomad Mussul 
 man could make nothing. The Persian verse from 
 the cartouche interested me, too, the refrain linger 
 ing persistently in my memory: 
 
 " Ten thousand thousand stars shine down on Babylon. 
 The desert well reflects but one." 
 
 Never before, save on the imperial carpet known 
 as Belshazzar s Rug, had I encountered any in 
 scription mentioning Babylon. So, at the first 
 glance, the nomad s rug should have some value. 
 But speculation was futile surely I ought to have 
 learned that if unnumbered disappointments could 
 teach me anything. 
 
 Thinking of these things, I passed along the 
 noble avenue, retracing my steps to the big dusky 
 house standing alone, with two old trees to guard 
 it relics, like the mansion, of the great city s 
 infancy the last old dwelling left marooned amid 
 the arid wastes of commerce. Here my cousin and 
 3 23 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 his wife lived with me in winter; I with them at 
 their Lenox home in summer. 
 
 A brougham or two at the curb before the house 
 warned me of clients waiting or of visitors for 
 Geraldine doubtless the latter, for it was now 
 past five. 
 
 Under the circumstances I went in to second 
 Geraldine for Westover never troubled himself 
 to be civil to her friends. 
 
 There were people there, and tea and a pretty, 
 wordless welcome from Geraldine. 
 
 The violet-tinted April dusk brought candle 
 light; people went away and others came; then, 
 one by one, they left, and we were alone, Geraldine 
 and I and the new moon shining through the frail 
 curtains. For a long time we talked together, 
 aimlessly, of this and that which mattered noth 
 ing to anybody. A maid entered to draw the 
 curtains. When she left, Geraldine laughed and 
 picked up a cluster of yellow jonquils. 
 
 " Your courage failed you, after all," she said ; 
 " the loveliest woman in the world must go with 
 out my flowers to-night." 
 
 " She has them," I retorted. 
 
 " Do you mean me, Dick? " she said under her 
 breath. 
 
 "Did you doubt it?" 
 24 
 
THE CARPET OF BELSHAZZAR 
 
 She bowed her head. Silence, ever waiting to 
 ensnare us, crept like a shadow in between us. 
 And I would not have it. 
 
 " An old man is to bring a rug to-night," I said 
 abruptly. 
 
 Geraldine stirred in her armchair, repeating in 
 a low voice: 
 
 " Ten thousand thousand stars shine down on Babylon. 
 The desert well rejlects but one. Abaddon none." 
 
 Bolt upright in my chair I listened, incredulous 
 of my own ears. 
 
 "Where on earth did you hear that?" I de 
 manded. 
 
 " I read it on Belshazzar s Rug in cuneiform 
 with the Kufic key," she answered, watching me. 
 
 "You all alone interpreted that?" I asked, 
 astounded. 
 
 " Yes. It is the cuneiform inscription in the 
 gold cartouche." 
 
 Profound astonishment left me silent. She lay 
 back in her chair with a little laugh of pure ex 
 citement. 
 
 " After you went out," she said, " I was hor 
 ribly lonely, and I thought of you, and then I 
 thought about the work you loved the cunei 
 forms and as Jim did not seem to need me in 
 25 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 the laboratory I thought to myself : Suppose 
 suppose by luck I could unravel the inscription on 
 the gold cartouche! Dick would be the happiest 
 man in the world. And then your your flowers 
 came, and I sat for a while alone with them. Then, 
 on impulse, I jumped up and took the Kufic tables 
 and all the combinations that you and I had tried 
 together, and I slipped upstairs to the marble 
 room and knelt down before Belshazzar s Rug. O 
 Dick ! the Tree of Heaven seemed to quiver in every 
 jeweled branch and leaf! it was only the draught 
 from the closing door that moved the rug, but the 
 mystic tree swayed there as the folds of the car 
 pet moved, and I seemed to feel the mystery of the 
 Prophet s Paradise stealing into me, penetrating 
 me like the incense of forbidden wine and I 
 I felt very Eastern and very pagan, kneeling there. 
 " It was strange, too ; the intricate Kufic key 
 seemed to be falling into place of its own impulse, 
 symbol after symbol promising a linked symmetry 
 of sense, until, almost before I was conscious of 
 the miracle, it had been wrought there in the mar 
 ble room ; and my eyes were opened ; and I, kneel 
 ing before the Tree of Heaven, read quite clearly 
 what is written in the gold cartouche on the great 
 carpet of Belshazzar. Dick ! I prayed so hard that 
 I might read it. And I have read it for you ! " 
 26 
 
THE CARPET OF BELSHAZZAB 
 
 In the eloquence of her emotion she had risen, 
 holding out both hands to me; I caught them, 
 crushing them to my lips. 
 
 Ominous pulsating silence grew between us ; her 
 fingers relaxed and her hands fell from my lips. 
 The stillness, intense, absolute, became a tension, 
 a growing resistless force pressing us apart, slow 
 ly, inexorably driving me back step by step against 
 the silk-hung wall, which I reached for, groping, 
 steadying myself. 
 
 Never before had we been so swayed, so thrilled ; 
 never before had we been so reckless of the peril. 
 Over us a magic snare had fallen, and we had 
 evaded it an unseen and delicate web, enmeshing 
 us, drawing us together limb to limb, body to body, 
 soul to soul, there on the kindling edges of destruc 
 tion. 
 
 She sank back into the deep seat by the win 
 dow, her white hands tightening on the gilded 
 foliation of the chair s carved arms. And I saw 
 how pale her face was and how her dark eyes were 
 fixed steadily upon the floor as though destruction 
 was a pit whose edge lay at her feet. 
 
 Presently I became aware that the world out 
 side the curtained windows was moving still had 
 perhaps never halted on its way to wait upon our 
 27 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 fate. And, crossing the room, I raised the shade 
 and saw the new moon, low in the sky, kneeling amid 
 the watching stars. Yellow rays from a street 
 lamp illuminated the old trees foliage, edging with 
 palest fire the tracery of newborn leaves, tufting 
 each stem and twig, exquisite, delicately formal as 
 the leafy labyrinths of the Tree of Heaven spread 
 ing above the flowery field of Belshazzar s Rug. 
 
 Khassar the nomad had come and gone, and his 
 rug hung in the marble room, pale as the tinted 
 shadow cast by the great carpet of Belshazzar. 
 
 The nomad s rug was clean but very ancient, 
 and so worn, so time-eaten to the very warp, that 
 the Kherdeh was all but obliterated in the metnih. 
 But outside of that, between the outside band and 
 the ara, or central line, there were traces of ancient 
 glory and dimmed outlines of design; and I saw 
 the twelve cartouches inscribed alternately in Per 
 sian and in cuneiform characters. There, too, were 
 the worn remains of floral thickets haunted of 
 beast and bird, intricate allegories, chronicles in 
 color and symbol, every leaf, every blossom, every 
 creature fraught with mystic meaning; and there 
 also, still faintly to be made out, the shadowy 
 foliage of the Tree of Heaven. 
 
 " How much did you pay for that ghost of a 
 28 
 
THE CARPET OF BELSHAZZAR 
 
 rug? " demanded Westover, who had followed me 
 upstairs after dressing for dinner. 
 
 When I told him he shrugged his shoulders, but 
 made no comment. A moment later Geraldine en 
 tered, and his small eyes, no longer furtive, became 
 fixed and dull. 
 
 "They say in the East," I remarked, "that 
 when all color is gone from an Eighur rug a lost 
 soul takes it for its abode. Eighur women are 
 supposed to have souls occasionally, and to lose 
 them now and then." 
 
 " There are plenty of lost souls in town," ob 
 served Westover ; " no doubt you ll have your 
 choice of tenants for your carpet or," he added, 
 staring at space, " if you like I ll provide you." 
 
 I did not understand his remark, but it left a 
 vaguely sinister impression. Geraldine, standing 
 between us, her white fingers linked behind her, 
 looked up at me very gravely. 
 
 " Do you know," she said, " that I am convinced 
 that I wove that rug some centuries ago ? " 
 
 " I have no doubt of it," I replied, smiling. 
 
 " Do you doubt it, Jim ? " she asked gayly. 
 
 He did not reply. 
 
 " As a matter of fact," I said, " it was always 
 believed that a young girl who dared to weave the 
 Tree of Heaven into an Eighur carpet died when 
 29 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 her task was ended her entire physical and spir 
 itual vitality entering into the sacred tree and in 
 fusing it with mystic splendor." 
 
 " Oh, I died as you say," observed Geraldine 
 gravely. 
 
 " I don t see that you infused much physical or 
 spiritual splendor into that rug," observed West- 
 over. 
 
 " I must die again, you know, Jim, and bring 
 its vanished beauty back," she said gayly. " Shall 
 I, Dick? and leave you a priceless carpet as my 
 bequest and monument ? " 
 
 Westover turned on his heel, fidgeting with his 
 collar. Recently his neck had grown fat behind the 
 ears. 
 
 A few moments later dinner was announced. 
 
 We lingered late over dinner, I remember. Jim 
 drank heavily a habit which both Geraldine and 
 I had long since left unnoticed, she shrinking from 
 the sullen rebuff certain to follow even a playful 
 protest, I understanding the utter hopelessness 
 of interference. His mind, already shaken, 
 would one day shatter, and the dreadful price be 
 paid. 
 
 As he sat there sousing walnuts in port, in his 
 altered features and swollen hands I seemed to 
 divine something malicious and patient and pow- 
 30 
 
THE CARPET OF BELSHAZZAR 
 
 erful that indescribable physical menace one 
 feels in the inert brooding eye of the mentally and 
 spiritually crippled. 
 
 When Geraldine rose he stood up unsteadily. 
 After she had gone he lighted a cigar and turned 
 his bloodshot eyes on me. 
 
 " Is that wine expensive? " he demanded, point 
 ing to Geraldine s half -empty glass. 
 
 " Rather," I said. 
 
 He picked up the glass, examined it, sniffing at 
 the contents. 
 
 " It s poor claret," he said. " Taste it. It s 
 pure poison, I tell you." 
 
 " I m sorry," I said indifferently. 
 
 Again he sniffed it. " Faugh ! " he sneered, and 
 threw it into the fireplace behind him. Then he 
 got on his feet, heavily, muttering to himself, and 
 stumbled off through the drawing-room. 
 
 For a while I sat there amid the shaded candles, 
 staring at space. But I could not read the future 
 pictured there amid the empty chairs and the flow 
 ers, already drooping in each crystal vase. 
 
 When at length I roused myself and went up 
 stairs, passing her apartment I heard her singing 
 to herself, and I wondered that she could. 
 
 I paused on the gallery stairway to listen; and 
 she could not have heard my footsteps on the thick 
 31 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 deep carpeting, yet she came to the door and 
 opened it, looking up at me where I stood. 
 
 " You are going to the marble room. May I 
 come and help you ? " she asked sweetly. And as 
 I was silent, she said again : " Let me be happy, 
 won t you, Dick? Let me be where you are." 
 
 " Have I ever avoided you, Geraldine ? " 
 
 I descended the steps, she laid her hand lightly 
 on my arm, and together we mounted the stairway 
 toward the gallery. 
 
 " I was singing a Hillah tent song when you 
 passed," she said, " partly because I was lonely, 
 and partly " she hesitated, looking around at 
 me " partly because I ve come to the conclu 
 sion, Dick, that I was once at Belshazzar s 
 feast in Cadimirra for there s a great deal of 
 wickedness in me you d never believe it, would 
 you?" 
 
 She smiled at me so innocently, so adorably, that 
 I laughed outright. 
 
 " I ve heard that the maids of Babilu-Ki had a 
 bowing acquaintance with the devil," I said. 
 " Even an Eighur girl nodded pleasantly to Erlik 
 now and then according to the chronicles of the 
 Tekrins." 
 
 " Oh, they surely did," she said. And, " Thank 
 you, Dick," she added, as we reached the gallery ; 
 32 
 
THE CARPET OF BELSHAZZAR 
 
 " when I am an old woman you must help me up 
 the steep places." 
 
 " It is you who help me," I said lightly. 
 
 She stood, resting her arm on the table while I 
 gathered up the mass of papers containing our 
 cuneiform combinations and the Kufic key. 
 
 " All that is useless," she said suddenly. Her 
 manner and smile had altered. 
 
 I looked up in surprise, and at the same instant 
 she pushed the papers from beneath my hands. 
 
 " The memory of things forgotten centuries 
 ago has returned to me," she said feverishly. " I 
 am a pagan again. It was Istar who first taught 
 my hands to weave and my fingers to tie the Sehna 
 knot. I wove that carpet ; what I have woven 
 there I can read. Why do you laugh? Will you 
 believe me if I translate the mystery of each 
 inscription as easily as I read the gold car 
 touche? Come; we shall never need those papers 
 again." 
 
 What new caprice was this? She was smiling, 
 almost fixedly, and I thought that there was some 
 thing in her overflushed face and in the starlike 
 brilliancy of her eyes not quite normal. At the 
 same moment the electric lights in the laboratory 
 went out. Westover was evidently in there. I 
 waited, expecting him to appear, but he did not. 
 33 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 Again I reached for the papers, but Geraldine 
 scattered them with a quick sweep of her hand. 
 
 " Won t you believe me ? Won t you let me 
 try?" she repeated almost impatiently. 
 
 With a quick movement she bent forward past 
 me and shut off the lights in the gallery where we 
 stood. Another second, and the lights in the mar 
 ble room broke out fiercely ; and there, full in the 
 dazzling glory, I saw the great carpet of Belshaz- 
 zar hanging, and beside it the Eighur rug a 
 pallid shadow on the wall. 
 
 Geraldine, hands clasped to her scarlet mouth, 
 dark eyes fixed, moved forward slowly, opalescent 
 tints flashing on her smooth bare arms and shoul 
 ders, her head a delicate silhouette against the 
 glare. 
 
 I followed, pausing at her side, and we stood 
 silently before the miracle, the great folds gently 
 stirring in some unfelt current; and I saw the 
 upper branches of the Tree of Heaven sway, and 
 a thousand leaves, all glistening, quiver and sub 
 side. 
 
 " One can almost hear the rustling of the 
 leaves," I whispered. 
 
 " I hear more than that," she murmured. " I 
 hear my soul bidding me good-by." 
 
 She smiled dreamily, turning to the faded 
 34 
 
THE CARPET OF BELSHAZZAR 
 
 Eighur carpet, and stepping back one pace, 
 dropped her left arm, clasping my hand in hers. 
 
 " It was I who wove that carpet I, maid of 
 the Issig-Kul and it was you, beloved of Hassan, 
 who inspired it." 
 
 "What are you saying, Geraldine? " I began 
 uneasily ; " where did you ever hear my name 
 linked with the name of Hassan ? " 
 
 Her palm was burning hot, her eyes too bright. 
 The fever of caprice possessed her, and her imagi 
 nation was running riot. 
 
 There was a silence, through which a distant 
 sound penetrated the faint ring of glass some 
 where in the laboratory. Westover was tying on 
 his crystal mask. 
 
 She heard it, too, and she turned, looking me 
 full in the eyes. 
 
 " Dick," she said, " he has slain my body. My 
 soul is bidding me good-by." 
 
 " It is my own that he is dragging to destruc 
 tion, not yours," I muttered. 
 
 But she only clasped my hand tighter, the fixed 
 smile stamped on her lips. 
 
 " Listen," she whispered, raising her arm. 
 " This is what is written in the rose cartouche 
 on the Eighur carpet that I made : 
 
 Roses of Baby Ion : Ashes of roses in Abaddon. 
 
 35 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 Love and its awful penalty, Dick and the warn 
 ing I wove, coffined in cryptogram ! Listen 
 again. The cartouche below was once topaz for 
 I wove it I ! 
 
 < All Paradise the cost : 
 Warp and weft for souls so lost.* 
 
 Mine, Dick, mine! lost in loving as I loved, 
 centuries since. I have no soul ; I have never 
 had any since I lost it then. It is there, tenanting 
 the phantom of an Eighur carpet. Do you not 
 understand? There is my faded monument and 
 refuge that magic-woven sanctuary that hid 
 ing place from hell ! " 
 
 Her little feverish fingers tightened convulsively 
 in mine; the color flamed in her cheeks. Sud 
 denly she crushed our clasped hands to her heart, 
 and I felt it leaping madly. 
 
 "Geraldine," I stammered, "what is all this 
 ghastly nonsense ? Are you ill ? " 
 
 " Listen ! Listen ! " she whispered ; " the next 
 cartouche was blue the lost Persian blue! I 
 know ; why should I not know I who wove it cen 
 turies ago? And thus it reads, O thou whom I 
 loved to my destruction thou whom I love! 
 
 Time and the Guest 
 Shall meet me twice once East, once West. 
 
 36 
 
THE CARPET OF BELSHAZZAR 
 
 " Ah, prophetess was I by Istar s favor seeing 
 I died for love. Do you not understand, Dick? 
 Time and the Guest! the Guest is Death the 
 Guest we all must entertain one day and I twice 
 once in the East, once here in the West here, 
 now!" 
 
 " Geraldine, are you mad ? " I whispered ; " look 
 at me ! turn and look at me, I say ! " 
 
 But she shivered in my arms, whispering that 
 she was ransoming her soul and mine. A distant 
 sound broke from the laboratory, and we listened. 
 
 " Hush, beloved," she said breathlessly ; " the 
 last cartouche is black! And this is written 
 
 Soul, lotus-sealed, 
 Receive thy Paradise " 
 
 Her voice died out; a terrible pallor struck 
 her face ; she swayed where she stood, the smile 
 frozen on her bloodless lips. 
 
 As I caught her to me, her head fell straight 
 back and her body sank a dead weight in my arms. 
 Then a dreadful thing occurred; the faded an 
 cient tapestry glowed out like a live ember, kin 
 dling from end to end, brighter, fiercer, flaming 
 into living fire ; and the phantom Tree of Heaven, 
 flashing, superbly jeweled, burst into magnificent 
 florescence. 
 
 37 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 Blinded, almost stupefied, I staggered back, but 
 the straining cry died in my throat as a voice is 
 strangled in dreadful dreams. Again I strove to 
 shout. The rug, glowing like a living ember, 
 slowly faded before my eyes. Suddenly the last 
 spark went out in a shower of whitening ashes. 
 
 Again I strove to cry out : " Jim ! Jim ! " but 
 my lips stiffened with horror as I listened. For 
 he was somewhere there in the darkness, laughing. 
 
 " It was in her wine," he chuckled " and I saw 
 her kiss the glass and look at you ! and you, 
 there, staring at nothing ! Stare at it now ! " 
 
 And again : " Do you think I have never watched 
 her? and you? Now she s in hell, and we ll race 
 for her on even terms once more." 
 
 Silence: a low, insane laugh, cut by a report 
 and the crash of glass as he fell, shattering his 
 masked face upon the floor. 
 
 After a long while I spoke, listening intently. 
 Then I took up my burden. 
 
 And there was no sound save the soft stirring 
 of her silken gown as I bore her through the 
 darkness, my cold lips pressed to hers. 
 
 * # # # * 
 
 He has never returned to America, but now that 
 the time has come for me to fulfill my part, I do 
 so, setting down what I know and what occult in- 
 38 
 
THE CARPET OF BELSHAZZAR 
 
 formation I have received in letters from him, of 
 the strange fate which overtook, separately, each 
 and every man present at that farewell dinner at 
 the Lenox Club. 
 
 My own fate is stranger still to record these 
 facts and take my position as his historian and 
 his disciple. 
 
 39 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 THE SIGN OF VENUS 
 
 IN the card room the game, which had started 
 from a chance suggestion, bid fair to develop 
 into an all-night seance : the young foreign diplo 
 mat had shed his coat and lighted a fresh cigar ; 
 somebody threw a handkerchief over the face of 
 the clock, and a sleepy club servant took reserve 
 orders for two dozen siphons and other details. 
 
 " That lets me out," said Hetherford, rising 
 from his chair with a nod at the dealer. He tossed 
 his cards on the table, settled side obligations 
 with the man on his left, yawned, and put on 
 his hat. 
 
 Somebody remonstrated : " It s only two o clock, 
 Hetherford ; you have no white man s burden sit 
 ting up for you at home." 
 
 But Hetherford shook his head, smiling. 
 
 So a servant removed his chair, another man 
 cut in, the dealer dealt cards all around. Pres 
 ently from somewhere in the smoke haze came a 
 40 
 
THE SIGN OF VENUS 
 
 voice, " Hearts." And a quiet voice retorted, " I 
 double it." 
 
 Hetherford lingered a moment, then turned on 
 his heel, sauntered out across the hallway and 
 down the stairs into the court, refusing with a 
 sign the offered cab. 
 
 Breathing deeply, yawning once or twice, he 
 looked up at the stars. The night air refreshed 
 him; he stood a moment, thoughtfully contem 
 plating his half-smoked cigar, then tossed it away 
 and stepped out into the street. 
 
 The street was quiet and deserted; darkened 
 brownstone mansions stared at him through som 
 ber windows as he passed ; his footsteps echoed 
 across the pavement like the sound of footsteps 
 following. 
 
 His progress was leisurely ; the dreary monot 
 ony of the house fronts soothed him. He whis 
 tled a few bars of a commonplace tune, crossed 
 the deserted avenue under the electric lamps, and 
 entered the dimly lighted street beyond. 
 
 Here all was silence; the doors of many houses 
 were boarded up sign that their tenants had 
 migrated to the country. No shadowy cat fled 
 along the iron railings at his approach; no night 
 watchman prowled in deserted dooryards or peered 
 at him from obscurity. 
 
 41 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 Strolling at ease, thoughts nowhere, he had 
 traversed half the block, when an opening door 
 and a glimmer of light across the sidewalk at 
 tracted his attention. 
 
 As he approached the house from whence the 
 light came, a figure suddenly appeared on the 
 stoop a girl in a white ball gown hastily de 
 scending the stone steps. Gaslight from the door 
 way tinted her bared arms and shoulders. She 
 tent her graceful head and gazed earnestly at 
 Hetherford. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," she almost whispered ; 
 " might I ask you to help me? " 
 
 Hetherford stopped and wheeled short. 
 
 " I I really beg your pardon," she said, " but 
 I am in such distress. Could I ask you to find me 
 a cab?" 
 
 " A cab ! " he repeated uncertainly ; " why, yes 
 I will with pleasure " He turned and looked 
 up and down the deserted street, slowly lifting 
 his hand to his short mustache. " If you are in 
 a hurry," he said, " I had better go to the nearest 
 stables " 
 
 " But there is something more," she said, in a 
 tremulous voice ; " could you get me a wrap a 
 cloak anything to throw over my gown?" 
 
 He looked up at her, bewildered. " Why, I 
 42 
 
THE SIGN OF VENUS 
 
 don t believe I " he began, then fell silent before 
 her troubled gaze. " I ll do anything I can for 
 you," he said abruptly. " I have a raincoat at 
 the club if your need is urgent " 
 
 " It is urgent ; but there is something else 
 something more urgent, more difficult for me to 
 ask you. I must go to Willow Brook I must go 
 now, to-night ! And I I have no money." 
 
 " Do you mean Willow Brook in Westchester ? " 
 he asked, astonished. " There is no train at this 
 hour of the morning ! " 
 
 " Then then what am I to do ? " she faltered. 
 " I cannot stay another moment in that house." 
 
 After a silence he said : " Are you afraid of 
 anybody in that house ? " 
 
 " There is nobody in the house," she said with 
 a shudder ; " my mother is in Westchester ; all the 
 household are there. I I came back a few mo 
 ments ago unexpectedly " She stammered and 
 winced under his keen scrutiny ; then the pallor of 
 utter despair came into her cheeks, and she hid 
 her white face in her hands. 
 
 Hetherford watched her for a moment. 
 
 " I don t exactly understand," he said gently, 
 
 " but I ll do anything I can for you. I ll go to 
 
 the club and get my raincoat ; I ll go to the stables 
 
 and get a cab ; I haven t any money with me, but 
 
 43 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 it would take only a few minutes for me to drive 
 to the club and get some. . . . Please don t be 
 distressed ; I ll do anything you desire." 
 
 She dropped her arms with a hopeless gesture. 
 
 " But you say there is no train ! " 
 
 " You could drive to the house of some of your 
 friends " 
 
 " No, no ! Oh, my friends must never know of 
 this!" 
 
 " I see," he said gravely. 
 
 " No, you don t see," she said unsteadily. " The 
 truth is that I am almost frightened to death." 
 
 " Can you not tell me what has frightened 
 you so ? " 
 
 " If I tried to tell you, you would think me 
 mad you would indeed " 
 
 " Try," he said soothingly. 
 
 " Why why, it startled me to find myself in 
 this house," she began. " You see, I didn t expect 
 to come here; I didn t really want to come here," 
 she added piteously. " Oh, it is simply dreadful 
 to come like this ! " She glanced fearfully over 
 her shoulder at the lighted doorway above, then 
 turned to Hetherford as though dazed. 
 
 " Tell me," he said in a quiet voice. 
 
 Yes I ll tell you. At first it was all dark 
 but I must have known I was in my own room, 
 44 
 
THE SIGN OF VENUS 
 
 for I felt around on the dresser for the matches 
 and lighted a candle. And when I saw that it was 
 truly my own room, and when I caught sight of 
 my own face in the mirror, it terrified me " She 
 pressed her fingers to her cheeks with a shudder. 
 " Then I ran downstairs and lighted the gas in 
 the hall and peered into the mirror; and I saw a 
 face there a face like my own " 
 
 Pale, voiceless, she leaned on the bronze balus 
 trade, fair head drooping, lids closed. 
 
 Presently, eyes still closed, she said : " You will 
 not leave me alone here will you " Her voice 
 died to a whisper. 
 
 " No of course not," he replied slowly. 
 
 There was an interval of silence ; she passed her 
 hand across her eyes and raised her head, looking 
 up at the stars. 
 
 " You see," she murmured, " I dare not be 
 alone; I dare not lose touch with the living. I 
 suppose you think me mad, but I am not ; I am 
 only stunned. Please stay with me." 
 
 " Of course," he said in a soothing voice. 
 " Everything will come out all right " 
 
 " Are you sure? " 
 
 " Perfectly. I don t quite know what to 
 say how to reassure you and offer you any 
 
 help " 
 
 45 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 He fell silent, standing there on the sidewalk, 
 worrying his short mustache. The situation was 
 a new one to him. 
 
 " Suppose," he suggested, " that you try to 
 take a little rest. I ll sit down on the steps " 
 
 She looked at him in wide-eyed alarm. " Do 
 you mean that I should go into that house 
 alone!" 
 
 " Well you oughtn t to stand on the steps all 
 night. It is nearly three o clock. You are 
 frightened and nervous. Really you must go in 
 and " 
 
 " Then you must come, too," she said desper 
 ately. " This nightmare is more than I can en 
 dure alone. I m not a coward; none of my race 
 is. But I need a living being near me. Will 
 you come ? " 
 
 He bowed. She turned, hastily gathering her 
 filmy gown, and mounted the shadowy steps with 
 out a sound; and he followed leisurely, even per 
 haps warily, every sense alert. 
 
 He was prepared to see the end of this encoun 
 ter see it through to an explanation if it took 
 all summer. Of the situation, however, and of 
 her, he had so far ventured no theory. The type 
 of woman and the situation were perfectly new to 
 him. He was aware that anything might happen 
 46 
 
THE SIGN OF VENUS 
 
 in New York, and, closing the heavy front door, 
 he was ready for it. 
 
 The hall gas jets were burning brightly, and 
 in the darkened drawing-room he could distin 
 guish the heavy outlines of furniture cased in 
 dust coverings. 
 
 She asked him to strike a match and light the 
 sconces in the drawing-room, and he did so, curi 
 osity now thoroughly aroused. 
 
 As the gas flared up, shrouded pictures and 
 furniture sprang into view surrounding him, and 
 in the dusk of the room beyond he saw a ray of 
 light glimmering on the foliated carving of a 
 gilded harp. 
 
 Slowly he turned to the girl beside him. A 
 warm shadow dimmed her delicate features, yet 
 they were the loveliest he had ever looked upon. 
 
 Suddenly he understood the mute message of 
 her eyes : " My imprudence places me at your 
 mercy." 
 
 " Your helplessness places me at yours," he 
 said aloud, scarcely conscious that he had spoken. 
 
 At that a bright flush transfigured her. " I 
 trusted you the moment I saw you," she said 
 impulsively. " Do you mind sitting there op 
 posite me? I shall take this chair rather near 
 you " 
 
 47 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 She sank into an armchair ; and, touched and a 
 trifle amused, he seated himself, at a little nod 
 from her, awaiting her further pleasure. 
 
 She lay there for a minute or two without 
 speaking, rounded arms resting on the gilt arms 
 of the chair, eyes thoughtfully studying him. 
 
 " I ve simply got to tell you everything," she 
 said at length. 
 
 " It can do no harm, I think," he replied 
 pleasantly. 
 
 " No ; no harm. The harm has been done. Yet, 
 with you sitting there so near me, I am not fright 
 ened now. It is curious," she mused, " that I 
 should feel no apprehension now. And yet and 
 yet " 
 
 She leaned toward him, dropping her linked 
 fingers in her lap. 
 
 " Tell me, did you ever hear of the Sign of 
 Venus ? the Signum Veneris ? " she asked. 
 
 " I ve heard of it yes," he replied, surprised. 
 And as she said nothing, he went on : " The dis 
 tinguished gentleman who occupies the chair of 
 Applied Psychics at the university lectures on the 
 Sign of Venus, I believe." 
 
 " Did you attend the lectures ? " she asked 
 calmly. 
 
 He said he had not, smiling a trifle. 
 48 
 
THE SIGN OF VENUS 
 
 " I did." 
 
 " They were probably amusing," he ventured. 
 
 " Not very. Psychic phenomena bored me ; I 
 went during Lent. Psychic phenomena " She 
 hesitated, embarrassed at his amusement. " I 
 suppose you laugh at that sort of thing." 
 
 " No, I don t laugh at it. Queer things occur, 
 they say. All I know is that I myself have never 
 seen anything happen that could not be explained 
 by natural laws." 
 
 " I have," she said. 
 
 He bent his head in polite acquiescence. 
 
 " I went to the lectures," she said. " I am not 
 very intellectual; nothing he said interested me 
 very much which was, of course, suitable for a 
 Lenten amusement." 
 
 She leaned a little nearer, small hands tightly 
 interlaced on her knee. 
 
 " His lecture on the Sign of Venus was the 
 last." She lifted a white finger, drawing the 
 imaginary Signum Veneris in the air. Hether- 
 ford nodded gravely. 
 
 " The lecture," she continued, " ended with an 
 explanation of the Sign of Venus how, contem 
 plating it by starlight, one might pass into that 
 physical unconsciousness which leaves the mind 
 free to control the soul." 
 49 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 She held out her left hand toward him. On a 
 stretched finger a ring glistened, mounted with 
 the Sign of Venus blazing in brilliants. 
 
 " I had this made specially," she said ; " not 
 that I had any particular desire to test it no 
 curiosity. It never occurred to me that here in 
 New York one could could " 
 
 "What?" asked Hetherford dryly. 
 
 " could leave one s own body at will." 
 
 " I don t believe it could be accomplished in 
 New York," he said with great gravity. " And 
 that s a pretty safe conclusion to come to, is it 
 not?" 
 
 She dropped her eyes, silent for a moment, rest 
 ing her delicate chin on the palm of her hand. 
 Then she lifted her eyes to him calmly, and the 
 direct beauty of her gaze disturbed him. 
 
 " No, it is not a safe conclusion to come to. 
 Listen to me. Last night they gave a dance at 
 the Willow Brook Hunt. It was nearly two 
 o clock this morning when I left the club house 
 and started home across the lawn with my mother 
 and the maid " 
 
 " But how on earth could " he began, then 
 begged her pardon and waited. 
 
 She continued serenely : " The night was warm 
 and lovely, and it was clear starlight. When I 
 50 
 
THE SIGN OF VENUS 
 
 entered my room I sent the maid away and sat 
 down by the open window. The scent of the flow 
 ers and the beauty of the night made me restless ; 
 I went downstairs, unbolted the door, and slipped 
 out through the garden to the pergola. My 
 hammock hung there, and I lay down in it, look 
 ing out at the stars." 
 
 She drew the ring from her finger, holding it 
 out for him to see. 
 
 " The starlight caught the gems on the Sign 
 of Venus," she said under her breath ; " that was 
 the beginning. And then I don t know why 
 as I lay there idly turning the ring on my finger, 
 I found myself saying, I must go to New York : 
 I must leave my body here asleep in the ham 
 mock and go to my own room in Fifty-eighth 
 Street. " 
 
 A curious little chill passed over Hetherford. 
 
 " I said it again and again I don t know why. 
 I remember the ring glittered ; I remember it grew 
 brighter and brighter. And then and then! I 
 found myself upstairs in the dark, groping over 
 the dresser for the matches." 
 
 Again that faint chill touched Hetherford. 
 
 " I was stupefied for a moment," she said tremu 
 lously ; " then I suspected what I had done, and it 
 frightened me. And when I lighted the candle, 
 51 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 and saw it was truly my own room and when I 
 caught sight of my own face in the mirror ter 
 ror seized me; it was like a glimpse of something 
 taken unawares. For, do you know that although 
 in the glass I saw my own face, the face was not 
 looking back at me." She dropped her head, 
 crushing the ring in both hands. " The reflected 
 face was far lovelier than mine ; and it was mine, 
 I think, yet it was not looking at me, and it moved 
 when I did not move. I wonder I wonder " 
 
 The tension was too much. " If that be so," 
 he said, steadying his voice " if you saw a face 
 in your mirror, the face was your own." He made 
 an impatient gesture, rising to his feet at the 
 same moment. " All that you have told me can 
 be explained," he said. 
 
 " How can it ? At this very moment I am 
 asleep in my hammock." 
 
 " We will deal with that later," he said, smil 
 ing down at her. " Where is there a looking- 
 glass?" 
 
 " There is one in the hallway." She rose, slip 
 ping the ring on her finger, and led the way to 
 where an oval gilt mirror hung partly covered 
 with dust cloths. 
 
 He cast aside the coverings. " Now look into 
 the glass," he said gayly. 
 52 
 
THE SIGN OF VENUS 
 
 She raised her head and faced the mirror for 
 an instant. 
 
 " Come here," she whispered ; and he stepped 
 behind her, looking over her shoulder. 
 
 In the glass, as though reflected, he saw her 
 face, but the face was in profile ! 
 
 A shiver passed over him from head to foot. 
 
 " Did I not tell you? " she whispered. " Look ! 
 See, the other face is moving, while I am still ! " 
 
 " There s something wrong about the glass, of 
 course," he muttered ; " it s defective." 
 
 " But who is that in the glass? " 
 
 " It is you your profile. I don t exactly un 
 derstand. Good Lord! It s turning away from 
 us ! " 
 
 She shrank against the wall, wide-eyed, breath 
 ing rapidly. 
 
 " There is no use in our being frightened," he 
 said, scarcely knowing what he uttered. " This 
 is Fifty-eighth Street, New York, 1903." He 
 shook his shoulders, squaring them, and forced a 
 smile. " Don t be frightened ; there s an explana 
 tion for all this. You are not asleep in West- 
 chester; you are here in your own house. You 
 mustn t tremble so. Give me your hand a mo 
 ment." 
 
 She laid her hand in his obediently ; it shook 
 53 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 like a leaf. He held it firmly, touching the flut 
 tering pulse. 
 
 " You are certainly no spirit," he said, smiling ; 
 " your hand is warm and yielding. Ghosts don t 
 have hands like that, you know." 
 
 Her fingers lay in his, quite passive now, but 
 the pulse quickened. 
 
 " The explanation of it all is this," he said : 
 " You have had a temporary suspension of con 
 sciousness, during which time you, without being 
 aware of what you were doing, came to town from 
 Willow Brook. You believe you went to the dance 
 at the Hunt Club, but probably you did not. In 
 stead, during a lapse of consciousness, you went 
 to the station, took a train to town, came straight 
 to your own house " He hesitated. 
 
 " Yes," she said, " I have a key to the door. 
 Here it is." She drew it from the bosom of her 
 gown ; he took it triumphantly. 
 
 " You simply awoke to consciousness while you 
 were groping for the matches. That is all there 
 is to it ; and you need not be frightened at all ! " 
 he announced. 
 
 " No, not frightened," she said, shaking her 
 head ; " only only I wonder how I can get back. 
 I ve tried to fix my mind on my ring on the Sign 
 
 of Venus I cannot seem to " 
 
 54 
 
THE SIGN OF VENUS 
 
 " But that s nonsense ! " he protested cheer 
 fully. " That ring has nothing to do with the 
 matter." 
 
 " But it brought me here ! Truly I am asleep 
 in my hammock. Won t you believe it ? " 
 
 " No ; and you mustn t, either," he said impa 
 tiently. " Why, just now I explained to you " 
 
 " I know," she said, looking down at the ring 
 on her hand ; " but you are wrong truly you 
 are." 
 
 " I am not wrong," he said, laughing. " It 
 was only a dream the dance, the return, the 
 hammock all these were parts of a dream so in 
 tensely real that you cannot shake it off at once." 
 
 " Then then who was that we saw in the 
 mirror? " 
 
 " Let us try it again," he said confidently. She 
 suffered him to lead her again to the mirror ; again 
 they peered into its glimmering depths, heads 
 close together. 
 
 A second s breathless silence, then she caught 
 his hand in both of hers with a low cry; for the 
 strange profile was slowly turning toward them a 
 face of amazing beauty her own face transfig 
 ured, radiantly glorified. 
 
 " My soul ! " she gasped, and would have fallen 
 at his feet had he not held her and supported her 
 5 55 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 to the stairs, where she sank down, hiding her face 
 in her arms. 
 
 As for him, he was terribly shaken; he strove 
 to speak, to reason with her, with himself, but a 
 stupor chained body and mind, and he only leaned 
 there on the newel post, vaguely aware of his own 
 helplessness. 
 
 Far away in the night the bells of a church 
 began striking the hour one, two, three, four. 
 Presently the distant rattle of a wagon sounded. 
 The city stirred in its slumbers. 
 
 He found himself bending beside her, her pas 
 sive hands in his once more, and he was saying: 
 " As a matter of fact, all this is quite capable of 
 an explanation. Don t be distressed please don t 
 be frightened or sad. We ve both had some sort 
 of hallucination, that s all really that is all." 
 
 " I am not frightened now," she said dreamily. 
 " I am quite sure that that I am not dead. 
 I am only asleep in my hammock. When I 
 awake " 
 
 Again, in spite of himself, he shivered. 
 
 "Will you do one more thing for me?" she 
 asked. 
 
 " Yes a million." 
 
 " Only one. It is unreasonable, it is perhaps 
 
 silly and I have no right to ask " 
 
 56 
 
THE SIGN OF VENUS 
 
 " Ask it," he begged. 
 
 " Then then, will you go to Willow Brook? 
 Now?" 
 
 " Now? " he repeated blankly. 
 
 "Yes." She looked down at him with the 
 shadow of a smile touching lips and eyes. " I am 
 asleep in the hammock ; I sleep very, very soundly 
 and very, very late into the morning. They 
 may not find me there for a long while. So would 
 you mind going to Willow Brook to awaken me? " 
 
 " I I but you do not expect me to leave 
 you here and find you in Westchester ! " he stam 
 mered. 
 
 " You need not go," she said quietly. " If you 
 will telephone to the house and ask somebody to 
 go out to the pergola " 
 
 " No," he said, " I will go ; I will go anywhere 
 on earth for you." 
 
 He stood up, his senses in a whirl. She rose, 
 too, leaning lightly on the balustrade. 
 
 " Thank you," she said sweetly. " When you 
 awake me, give me this." She held out the Signum 
 Veneris; and he took it, and bending his head 
 slowly, raised it to his lips. 
 
 It was almost morning when he entered his own 
 house. In a dull trance he dressed, turned again 
 57 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 to the stairs, and crept out into the shadowy 
 street. 
 
 People began to pass him; an early electric 
 tram whizzed up Forty-second Street as he en 
 tered the railway station. Presently he found 
 himself in a car, clutching his ticket in one hand, 
 her ring in the other. 
 
 " It is I who am mad, not she," he muttered 
 as the train glided from the station, through the 
 long yard, dim in morning mist, where green and 
 crimson lanterns still sparkled faintly. 
 
 Again he pressed the Signum Venerls to his 
 lips. " It is I who am mad love mad ! " he whis 
 pered as the far treble warning of the whistle 
 aroused him and sent him stumbling out into the 
 soft fresh morning air. 
 
 The rising sun smote him full in the eyes as 
 he came in sight of the club house among the still 
 green trees, and the dew on the lawn flashed like 
 the gems of the Signum Venerls on the ring he 
 held so tightly. 
 
 Across the club house lawn stood another house, 
 circled with gardens in full bloom; and to the 
 left, among young trees, the white columns of a 
 pergola glistened, tinted with rose from the early 
 sun. 
 
 There was not a soul astir as he crossed the 
 58 
 
THE SIGN OF VENUS 
 
 lawn and entered the garden, brushing the dew 
 from overweighted blossoms as he passed. 
 
 Suddenly, at a turn in the path, he came upon 
 the pergola, and saw a brilliant hammock hang 
 ing in the shadow. 
 
 Over the hammock s fringe something light and 
 fluffy fell in folds like the billowy frills of a ball 
 gown. He stumbled forward, dazed, incredulous, 
 and stood trembling for an instant. 
 
 Then, speechless, he sank down beside her, and 
 dropped the ring into the palm of her half -closed 
 and unconscious hand. 
 
 A ray of sunlight fell across her hair; slowly 
 her blue eyes unclosed, smiling divinely. 
 
 And in her partly open palm the Sign of Venus 
 glimmered like dew silvering a budding rose. 
 
 59 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 THE CASE OF ME. HELMEB 
 
 HE had really been too ill to go ; the penetrat 
 ing dampness of the studio, the nervous strain, 
 the tireless application, all had told on him heav 
 ily. But the feverish discomfort in his head and 
 lungs gave him no rest; it was impossible to lie 
 there in bed and do nothing; besides, he did not 
 care to disappoint his hostess. So he managed 
 to crawl into his clothes, summon a cab, and de 
 part. The raw night air cooled his head and 
 throat ; he opened the cab window and let the snow 
 blow in on him. 
 
 When he arrived he did not feel much better, 
 although Catharine was glad to see him. Some 
 body s wife was allotted to him to take in to din 
 ner, and he executed the commission with that 
 distinction of manner peculiar to men of his 
 temperament. 
 
 When the women had withdrawn and the men 
 had lighted cigars and cigarettes, and the con- 
 60 
 
THE CASE OF MR. HELMER 
 
 versation wavered between municipal reform and 
 conies drolatiques, and the Boznovian attache had 
 begun an interminable story, and Count Fantozzi 
 was emphasizing his opinion of women by joining 
 the tips of his overmanicured thumb and fore 
 finger and wafting spectral kisses at an annoyed 
 Englishman opposite, Helmer laid down his un- 
 lighted cigar and, leaning over, touched his host 
 on the sleeve. 
 
 " Hello! what s up, Philip? " said his host cor 
 dially ; and Helmer, dropping his voice a tone 
 below the sustained pitch of conversation, asked 
 him the question that had been burning his fever 
 ish lips since dinner began. 
 
 To which his host replied, " What girl do you 
 mean ? " and bent nearer to listen. 
 
 " I mean the girl in the fluffy black gown, with 
 shoulders and arms of ivory, and the eyes of 
 Aphrodite." 
 
 His host smiled. " Where did she sit, this hu 
 man wonder ? " 
 
 " Beside Colonel Farrar." 
 
 " Farrar ? Let s see " he knit his brows 
 thoughtfully, then shook his head. " I can t rec 
 ollect; we re going in now and you can find her 
 and I ll " 
 
 His words were lost in the laughter and hum 
 61 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 around them; he nodded an abstracted assurance 
 at Helmer; others claimed his attention, and by 
 the time he rose to signal departure he had for 
 gotten the girl in black. 
 
 As the men drifted toward the drawing-rooms, 
 Helmer moved with the throng. There were a 
 number of people there whom he knew and spoke 
 to, although through the increasing feverishness 
 he could scarce hear himself speak. He was too 
 ill to stay; he would find his hostess and ask the 
 name of that girl in black, and go. 
 
 The white drawing-rooms were hot and over- 
 thronged. Attempting to find his hostess, he 
 encountered Colonel Farrar, and together they 
 threaded their way aimlessly forward. 
 
 " Who is the girl in black, Colonel? " he asked; 
 " 1 mean the one that you took in to dinner." 
 
 " A girl in black? I don t think I saw her." 
 
 "She sat beside you!" 
 
 " Beside me? " The Colonel halted, and his in 
 quiring gaze rested for a moment on the younger 
 man, then swept the crowded rooms. 
 
 ** Do you see her now ? " he asked. 
 
 " No," said Helmer, after a moment. 
 
 They stood silent for a little while, then parted 
 to allow the Chinese minister thoroughfare a 
 suave gentleman, all antique silks, and a smile 
 62 
 
THE CASE OF MR. HELMER 
 
 " thousands of years old." The minister passed, 
 leaning on the arm of the general commanding 
 at Governor s Island, who signaled Colonel Far- 
 rar to join them; and Helmer drifted again, 
 until a voice repeated his name insistently, and 
 his hostess leaned forward from the brilliant 
 group surrounding her, saying : " What in the 
 world is the matter, Philip? You look wretch 
 edly ill." 
 
 " It s a trifle close here nothing s the matter." 
 
 He stepped nearer, dropping his voice : " Cath 
 arine, who was that girl in black? " 
 
 "What girl?" 
 
 " She sat beside Colonel Farrar at dinner or 
 I thought she did " 
 
 "Do you mean Mrs. Van Siclen? She is in 
 white, silly ! " 
 
 " No the girl in black." 
 
 His hostess bent her pretty head in perplexed 
 silence, frowning a trifle with the effort to re 
 member. 
 
 " There were so many," she murmured ; " let 
 me see it is certainly strange that I cannot recol 
 lect. Wait a moment! Are you sure she wore 
 black? Are you sure she sat next to Colonel 
 Farrar?" 
 
 " A moment ago I was certain " he said, hesi- 
 63 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 tating. " Never mind, Catharine ; I ll prowl about 
 until I find her." 
 
 His hostess, already partly occupied with the 
 animated stir around her, nodded brightly ; Hel- 
 mer turned his fevered eyes and then his steps 
 toward the cool darkness of the conservatories. 
 But he found there a dozen people who greeted 
 him by name, demanding not only his company 
 but his immediate and undivided attention. 
 
 " Mr. Helmer might be able to explain to us 
 what his own work means," said a young girl, 
 laughing. 
 
 They had evidently been discussing his sculp 
 tured group, just completed for the new fa9ade 
 of the National Museum. Press and public had 
 commented very freely on the work since the un 
 veiling a week since; critics quarreled concern 
 ing the significance of the strange composition in 
 marble. The group was at the same time repellent 
 and singularly beautiful; but nobody denied its 
 technical perfection. This was the sculptured 
 group : A vaquero, evidently dying, lay in a loose 
 heap among some desert rocks. Beside him, chin 
 on palm, sat an exquisite winged figure, calm eyes 
 fixed on the dying man. It was plain that death 
 was near; it was stamped on the ravaged visage, 
 on the collapsed frame. And yet, in the dying 
 64 
 
THE CASE Of MR. HELMER 
 
 boy s eyes there was nothing of agony, no fear, 
 only an intense curiosity as the lovely winged fig 
 ure gazed straight into the glazing eyes. 
 
 " It may be," observed an attractive girl, " that 
 Mr. Helmer will say with Mr. Gilbert, 
 
 " It is really very clever, 
 
 But I don t know what it means. " 
 
 Helmer laughed and started to move away. " I 
 think I d better admit that at once," he said, pass 
 ing his hand over his aching eyes ; but the tumult 
 of protest blocked his retreat, and he was forced 
 to find a chair under the palms and tree ferns. 
 " It was merely an idea of mine," he protested, 
 good-humoredly, " an idea that has haunted me 
 so persistently that, to save myself further an 
 noyance, I locked it up in marble." 
 
 " Demoniac obsession ? " suggested a very 
 young man, with a taste for morbid literature. 
 
 " Not at all," protested Helmer, smiling ; " the 
 idea annoyed me until I gave it expression. It 
 doesn t bother me any more." 
 
 " You said," observed the attractive girl, " that 
 you were going to tell us all about it." 
 
 "About the idea? Oh, no, I didn t promise 
 that " 
 
 "Please, Mr. Helmer!" 
 65 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 A number of people had joined the circle; he 
 could see others standing here and there among 
 the palms, evidently pausing to listen. 
 
 " There is no logie in the idea," he said, un 
 easily " nothing to attract your attention. I 
 have only laid a ghost " 
 
 He stopped short. The girl in black stood 
 there among the others, intently watching him. 
 When she caught his eye, she nodded with the 
 friendliest little smile ; and as he started to rise 
 she shook her head and stepped back with a ges 
 ture for him to continue. 
 
 They looked steadily at one another for a 
 moment. 
 
 " The idea that has always attracted me," he 
 began slowly, " is purely instinctive and emo 
 tional, not logical. It is this : As long as I can 
 remember I have taken it for granted that a per 
 son who is doomed to die, never dies utterly alone. 
 We who die in our beds or expect to die sur 
 rounded by the living. So fall soldiers on the 
 firing line; so end the great majority never ab 
 solutely alone. Even in a murder, the murderer 
 at least must be present. If not, something else 
 is there. 
 
 " But how is it with those solitary souls isolated 
 in the world the lone herder who is found life- 
 66 
 
THE CASE OF ME. HELMER 
 
 less in some vast, waterless desert, the pioneer 
 whose bones are stumbled over by the tardy pickets 
 of civilization and even those nearer us here in 
 our city who are found in silent houses, in de 
 serted streets, in the solitude of salt meadows, in 
 the miserable desolation of vacant lands beyond 
 the suburbs?" 
 
 The girl in black stood motionless, watching 
 him intently. 
 
 " I like to believe," he went on, " that no living 
 creature dies absolutely and utterly alone. I have 
 thought that, perhaps in the desert, for instance, 
 when a man is doomed, and there is no chance that 
 he could live to relate the miracle, some winged 
 sentinel from the uttermost outpost of Eter 
 nity, putting off the armor of invisibility, drops 
 through space to watch beside him so that he may 
 not die alone." 
 
 There was absolute quiet in the circle around 
 him. Looking always at the girl in black, he said : 
 
 " Perhaps those doomed on dark mountains or 
 in solitary deserts, or the last survivor at sea, 
 drifting to certain destruction after the wreck 
 has foundered, finds death no terror, being guided 
 to it by those invisible to all save the surely 
 doomed. That is really all that suggested the 
 marble quite illogical, you see." 
 
 67 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 In the stillness, somebody drew a long, deep 
 breath ; the easy reaction followed ; people moved, 
 spoke together in low voices ; a laugh rippled up 
 out of the darkness. But Helmer had gone, mak 
 ing his way through the half light toward a fig 
 ure that moved beyond through the deeper shad 
 ows of the foliage moved slowly and more slowly. 
 Once she looked back, and he followed, pushing 
 forward and parting the heavy fronds of fern and 
 palm and masses of moist blossoms. Suddenly he 
 came upon her, standing there as though waiting 
 for him. 
 
 " There is not a soul in this house charitable 
 enough to present me," he began. 
 
 " Then," she answered laughingly, " charity 
 should begin at home. Take pity on yourself 
 and on me. I have waited for you." 
 
 " Did you really care to know me? " he stam 
 mered. 
 
 " Why am I here alone with you ? " she asked, 
 bending above a scented mass of flowers. " Indis 
 cretion may be a part of valor, but it is the best 
 part of something else." 
 
 That blue radiance which a starless sky sheds 
 lighted her white shoulders; transparent shadow 
 veiled the contour of neck and cheeks. 
 
 " At dinner," he said, " I did not mean to stare 
 68 
 
THE CASE OF MR. HELMER 
 
 so but I simply could not keep my eyes from 
 yours " 
 
 " A hint that mine were on yours, too ? " 
 
 She laughed a little laugh so sweet that the 
 sound seemed part of the twilight and the float 
 ing fragrance. She turned gracefully, holding 
 out her hand. 
 
 " Let us be friends," she said, " after all these 
 years." 
 
 Her hand lay in his for an instant; then she 
 withdrew it and dropped it caressingly upon a 
 cluster of massed flowers. 
 
 " Forced bloom," she said, looking down at 
 them, where her fingers, white as the blossoms, 
 lay half buried. Then, raising her head, " You 
 do not know me, do you ? " 
 
 " Know you ? " he faltered ; " how could I know 
 you? Do you think for a moment that I could 
 have forgotten you ? " 
 
 " Ah, you have not forgotten me ! " she said, 
 still with her wide smiling eyes on his ; " you have 
 not forgotten. There is a trace of me in the 
 winged figure you cut in marble not the fea 
 tures, not the massed hair, nor the rounded neck 
 and limbs but in the eyes. Who living, save 
 yourself, can read those eyes ? " 
 
 " Are you laughing at me? " 
 69 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " Answer me ; who alone in all the world can 
 read the message in those sculptured eyes? " 
 
 " Can you ? " he asked, curiously troubled. 
 
 " Yes ; I, and the dying man in marble." 
 
 " What do you read there? " 
 
 " Pardon for guilt. You have foreshadowed 
 it unconsciously the resurrection of the soul. 
 That is what you have left in marble for the 
 mercilessly just to ponder on; that alone is the 
 meaning of your work." 
 
 Through the throbbing silence he stood think 
 ing, searching his clouded mind. 
 
 " The eyes of the dying man are your own," 
 she said. " Is it not true? " 
 
 And still he stood there, groping, probing 
 through dim and forgotten corridors of thought 
 toward a faint memory scarcely perceptible in the 
 wavering mirage of the past. 
 
 " Let us talk of your career," she said, leaning 
 back against the thick foliage " your success, 
 and all that it means to you," she added gayly. 
 
 He stood staring at the darkness. " You have 
 set the phantoms of forgotten things stirring and 
 whispering together somewhere within me. Now 
 tell me more ; tell me the truth." 
 
 " You are slowly reading it in my eyes," she 
 said, laughing sweetly. " Read and remember." 
 70 
 
THE CASE OF ME. HELMER 
 
 The fever in him seared his sight as he stood 
 there, his confused gaze on hers. 
 
 " Is it a threat of hell you read in the mar 
 ble ?" he asked. 
 
 " No, nothing of destruction, only resurrection 
 and hope of Paradise. Look at me closely." 
 
 " Who are you? " he whispered, closing his eyes 
 to steady his swimming senses. " When have we 
 met?" 
 
 " You were very young," she said under her 
 breath " and I was younger and the rains had 
 swollen the Canadian river so that it boiled amber 
 at the fords ; and I could not cross alas ! " 
 
 A moment of stunning silence, then her voice 
 again : " I said nothing, not a word even of thanks 
 when you offered aid. . . . I was not too heavy 
 in your arms, and the ford was soon passed soon 
 passed. That was very long ago." Watching 
 him from shadowy sweet eyes, she said: 
 
 " For a day you knew the language of my 
 mouth and my arms around you, there in the 
 white sun glare of the river. For every kiss taken 
 and retaken, given and forgiven, we must account 
 for every one, even to the last. 
 
 " But you have set a monument for us both, 
 preaching the resurrection of the soul. Love is 
 such a little thing and ours endured a whole day 
 6 71 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 long! Do you remember? Yet He who created 
 love, designed that it should last a lifetime. Only 
 the lost outlive it." 
 
 She leaned nearer: 
 
 " Tell me, you who have proclaimed the resur 
 rection of dead souls, are you afraid to die? " 
 
 Her low voice ceased ; lights broke out like stars 
 through the foliage around them; the great glass 
 doors of the ballroom were opening; the illumi 
 nated fountain flashed, a falling shower of silver. 
 Through the outrush of music and laughter swell 
 ing around them, a clear far voice called " Fran- 
 9oise ! " 
 
 Again, close by, the voice rang faintly, " Fran- 
 9oise ! Fran9oise ! " 
 
 She slowly turned, staring into the brilliant 
 glare beyond. 
 
 " Who called ? " he asked hoarsely. 
 
 " My mother," she said, listening intently. 
 " Will you wait for me ? " 
 
 His ashen face glowed again like a dull ember. 
 She bent nearer, and caught his fingers in hers. 
 
 " By the memory of our last kiss, wait for me ! " 
 she pleaded, her little hand tightening on his. 
 
 "Where?" he said, with dry lips. "We can 
 not talk here! we cannot say here the things 
 that must be said." 
 
 72 
 
THE CASE OF MR. HELMER 
 
 " In your studio," she whispered. " Wait for 
 me." 
 
 " Do you know the way ? " 
 
 " I tell you I will come ; truly I will ! Only a 
 moment with my mother then I will be there ! " 
 
 Their hands clung together an instant, then she 
 slipped away into the crowded rooms; and after 
 a moment Helmer followed, head bent, blinded by 
 the glare. 
 
 " You are ill, Philip," said his host, as he took 
 his leave. " Your face is as ghastly as that dying 
 vaquero s by Heaven, man, you look like him ! " 
 
 " Did you find your girl in black ? " asked his 
 hostess curiously. 
 
 " Yes," he said; " good night." 
 
 The air was bitter as he stepped out bitter as 
 death. Scores of carriage lamps twinkled as he 
 descended the snowy steps, and a faint gust of 
 music swept out of the darkness, silenced as the 
 heavy doors closed behind him. 
 
 He turned west, shivering. A long smear of 
 light bounded his horizon as he pressed toward it 
 and entered the sordid avenue beneath the iron 
 arcade which was even now trembling under the 
 shock of an oncoming train. It passed overhead 
 with a roar ; he raised his hot eyes and saw, 
 through the tangled girders above, the illuminated 
 73 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 disk of the clock tower all distorted for the 
 fever in him was disturbing everything even the 
 cramped and twisted street into which he turned, 
 fighting for breath like a man stabbed through 
 and through. 
 
 " What folly ! " he said aloud, stopping short 
 in the darkness. " This is fever all this. She 
 could not know where to come " 
 
 Where two blind alleys cut the shabby block, 
 worming their way inward from the avenue and 
 from Tenth Street, he stopped again, his hands 
 working at his coat. 
 
 " It is fever, fever ! " he muttered. " She was 
 not there." 
 
 There was no light in the street save for the 
 red fire lamp burning on the corner, and a glim 
 mer from the Old Grapevine Tavern across the 
 way. Yet all around him the darkness was illu 
 minated with pale unsteady flames, lighting him 
 as he groped through the shadows of the street 
 to the blind alley. Dark old silent houses peered 
 across the paved lane at their aged counterparts, 
 waiting for him. 
 
 And at last he found a door that yielded, and 
 he stumbled into the black passageway, always 
 lighted on by the unsteady pallid flames which 
 seemed to burn in infinite depths of night. 
 74 
 
THE CASE OF MR. HELMER 
 
 " She was not there she was never there," he 
 gasped, bolting the door and sinking down upon 
 the floor. And, as his mind wandered, he raised 
 his eyes and saw the great bare room growing 
 whiter and whiter under the uneasy flames. 
 
 " It will burn as I burn," he said aloud for the 
 phantom flames had crept into his body. Sud 
 denly he laughed, and the vast studio rang again. 
 
 " Hark ! " he whispered, listening intently. 
 " Who knocked? " 
 
 There was some one at the door; he managed 
 to raise himself and drag back the bolt. 
 
 " You ! " he breathed, as she entered hastily, 
 her hair disordered and her black skirts powdered 
 with snow. 
 
 "Who but I?" she whispered, breathless. 
 " Listen ! do you hear my mother calling me ? It 
 is too late ; but she was with me to the end." 
 
 Through the silence, from an infinite distance, 
 came a desolate cry of grief " Fran9oise ! " 
 
 He had fallen back into his chair again, and 
 the little busy flames enveloped him so that the 
 room began to whiten again into a restless glare. 
 Through it he watched her. 
 
 The hour struck, passed, struck and passed 
 again. Other hours grew, lengthening into night. 
 She sat beside him with never a word or sigh or 
 75 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 whisper of breathing; and dream after dream 
 swept him, like burning winds. Then sleep im 
 mersed him so that he lay senseless, sightless eyes 
 still fixed on her. Hour after hour and the 
 white glare died out, fading to a glimmer. In 
 densest darkness, he stirred, awoke, his mind quite 
 clear, and spoke her name in a low voice. 
 
 " Yes, I am here," she answered gently. 
 
 " Is it death? " he asked, closing his eyes. 
 
 " Yes. Look at me, Philip." 
 
 His eyes unclosed; into his altered face there 
 crept an intense curiosity. For he beheld a glim 
 mering shape, wide-winged and deep-eyed, kneel 
 ing beside him, and looking him through and 
 through. 
 
 76 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE TREE OF DEEAMS 
 
 IT was a slim, well-groomed, top-hatted, frock- 
 coated Smith who entered his private office that 
 morning; it was a very different species of Smith 
 who left stealthily by a back corridor an hour 
 later, a shabby-genteel Smith whose cravatless col 
 lar was fastened with a democratic bone collar but 
 ton whose clean but shapeless trousers bagged 
 and flapped in the June breeze who gazed out at 
 Broadway from under the faded brim of a cheap 
 felt hat who, as he forced his pace from a Fifth 
 Avenue saunter into a Third Avenue hustle, thrust 
 both thin, clean hands into his trousers pockets 
 and satisfied himself that every cent which he 
 meant to spend for a week was there in the shape 
 of ten one-dollar bills. 
 
 At Wall Street he adjusted his glasses and 
 peered about with pleasant, near-sighted eyes to 
 discover the policeman at the crossing in order 
 to avoid him. Once beyond the financial zone 
 
 77 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 downtown he had no fear of being recognized by 
 anybody ; his features, he was modestly persuaded, 
 resembled the typical features of about fifty per 
 cent of the male inhabitants of Manhattan, al 
 though those same features had been public and 
 newspaper property for three years now ever 
 since his father, J. Abingdon Smith, 2d, had 
 faded heavenward, leaving the enormous fortune 
 in Manhattan real estate to his only son, J. Abing 
 don Smith, 3d. 
 
 He was still a young man, thin of hair, near 
 sighted, endowed with sufficient intelligence to en 
 able him to turn over his inherited fortune, legit 
 imately increased, to any heir he might have if 
 he should ever marry. Had he resembled Smith 
 the first, or Smith the second, he would have done 
 this as a matter of family routine married the 
 sort of girl that generations of Smiths found 
 inoffensive enough to marry; produced one heir, 
 and, when the proper time arrived, would have in 
 his turn decorously and formally faded heaven 
 ward leaving a J. Abingdon Smith, 4th, to 
 follow his example. 
 
 But Smith had inherited from his mother a 
 thin but deep streak of romantic sentiment. This 
 vein ran clean through him, and might have mani 
 fested itself in almost any form along the line of 
 78 
 
THE TREE OF DREAMS 
 
 least resistance, had it not been half imbedded in 
 a stratum of negative platitudes inherited from 
 his emotionless father. 
 
 As he stood in his shabby clothes, near the new 
 Hall of Records, waiting for a Fourth Avenue 
 car, a slender, blue-eyed girl, passing, looked up 
 at him with such a frank, sweet gaze that he 
 missed his next breath and then made up for it 
 by breathing twice too quickly. He had an idea 
 that he had seen her before, but finally decided he 
 hadn t. 
 
 To be loved for himself alone was one of his 
 impractical ideas, born of the maternal sentimental 
 streak ; but, for years, the famous Smith fortune, 
 its enormous holdings in realty, the doings of 
 the Smiths, their shrewd sales, purchases, leases, 
 improvements, their movements, their personal 
 affairs, their photographed features had been 
 common property and an unfailing source of news 
 for the press; and he knew perfectly well that, 
 however honest and theoretically disinterested a 
 girl might be, the courtship of a J. Abingdon 
 Smith, of whatever vintage, could not help repre 
 senting a bunch of figures that no human being 
 in shape of a female biped could avoid seeing, no 
 matter how tightly she closed her innocent eyes. 
 Thinking of these things, he calmly encountered 
 79 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 the curious eyes of the conductor as he boarded 
 a crowded car. 
 
 The blue-eyed girl also got in, but Smith, on 
 the back platform, did not see her. 
 
 " That fellow," said the conductor to the grip- 
 man, as he swung off the front platform after col 
 lecting a fare, " is a ringer for J. Abingdon Smith, 
 the millionaire." 
 
 And the conductor was not the only one ; several 
 passengers were amused by the resemblance this 
 near-sighted, shabby young man bore to the fea 
 tures that every newspaper had made familiar to 
 the submerged tenth, /the frantically swimming 
 twentieth, and the marooned remainder of the 
 great unwashed. 
 
 Half an hour later Smith said to the conductor : 
 " Would you be kind enough to stop here ? " 
 
 " Certainly, Mr. Smith," said the conductor, 
 meaning a joke. 
 
 Smith ambled along, intent upon his own busi 
 ness. The blue-eyed girl had preceded him in the 
 same direction; but as he entered the main door 
 way of the Smith model tenement houses, which 
 formed almost a complete quadrangle around the 
 block, he was not aware that she was on the iron 
 and concrete stairway, three stories above him, and 
 was still climbing heavenward. 
 80 
 
THE TREE OF DREAMS 
 
 When he reached his room, which he had paid 
 for in advance, he found that his trunk and furni 
 ture had arrived. The air in the room was close; 
 he opened the window. 
 
 For a while he bustled busily about, arranging 
 the meager furniture. The narrow iron bed he 
 dragged into a corner by the window, pushed the 
 washstand against the opposite wall and hung a 
 ninety-eight-cent mirror over it. He laid a strip 
 of carpet in the center of the floor, placed a pine 
 table upon it, and then, picking up the only chair, 
 distractedly began traveling about with it, trying 
 the effect, first in one corner, then in another. 
 
 At this juncture Kerns, his agent, general es 
 tate manager, and boyhood friend, slipped into the 
 room on tiptoe, carefully closing the door behind 
 him. 
 
 " I don t know where to put it," Smith said, 
 pausing to settle his refractory glasses and glance 
 suspiciously at Kerns out of pleasant, near-sighted 
 eyes. " When they have only one chair where do 
 they usually put it, Tommy ? " 
 
 " When they get down to one chair they usually 
 put it in the stove," said Kerns. 
 
 "What? They do? That s another point, 
 Kerns ; we ve got to give them free furniture some 
 how ; I mean for the same rent. You figure it up ; 
 81 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 cut out something or other " He gazed vaguely 
 about the bare walls as though contemplating 
 their possible economic elimination. Then, he 
 looked at the floor ; but his tenants, being wingless, 
 required something to stand on. " Could we give 
 them bed, tables, and chair, and cut out that gas 
 range ? " he suggested. 
 
 " Not unless you throw in a stove," said Kerns, 
 trying to look serious. " And if you do that, 
 they ll keep their coal in the bath tubs, as before." 
 
 Smith began to remove the contents of a shabby 
 little trunk. First, there were shaving utensils, 
 which he placed in a row on the unpainted wash- 
 stand, then a tin pitcher and wash basin, a cake of 
 soap, and last, some cheap towels. 
 
 " I ve a notion that I ve too much crockery," he 
 said, gazing about. " Do you think I ve overdone 
 it? I don t need two plates do I? And all that 
 tinware do I ? What the deuce are you grinning 
 at ? " he added, diving into his battered trunk 
 again and emerging with both arms full of tin 
 ware. These utensils he hung upon nails above 
 the sink in the corner, arranging them with 
 care. 
 
 " That s the place for pots and pans, isn t it, 
 Kerns ? " he said, backing off to observe the effect. 
 Then, by chance, he caught sight of himself in the 
 82 
 
THE TREE OF DREAMS 
 
 ninety-eight-cent mirror, and a slight flush of em 
 barrassment rose to his cheeks. 
 
 " Do I look like a respectable man out of work? " 
 he asked. " Tell me the truth." 
 
 " Exactly," replied Kerns ; " you look like what 
 you are a well-meaning gentleman, permanently 
 unemployed and likely to remain so. In other 
 words, dear friend, you resemble a Lulu bird of 
 leisure." 
 
 " Do you mean to say I look like myself ? " de 
 manded Smith innocently. " Do I seem to be made 
 up for a part? There was an impudent conductor 
 who called me Smith. Don t you suppose he did 
 it in joke? And a a girl who looked at 
 me _er " 
 
 " Because you re a winner. Because a Smith 
 ill dressed is half confessed; because a Smith in 
 any other clothes would look as neat; because a 
 Sm " 
 
 Smith s brows contracted, but lifelong endur 
 ance of Kerns s raillery had habituated him to dis 
 regard such gibes. 
 
 " John Abingdon," continued Kerns, " I ve in 
 spected these barracks of yours to-day because you 
 insisted ; I ve met you here because you told me 
 me to ; but it s all portentous and top-heavy non 
 sense on your part, and it s my business to say 
 83 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 so whether it makes you fidgety and sulky or 
 not." 
 
 " We won t start that line of discussion again," 
 said Smith, " because, Kerns, outside of your own 
 harmless routine, you re so densely ignorant that 
 I am continually ashamed of you. What do you 
 know about humanity ? " 
 
 " I thought you weren t going to start that 
 thing going," yawned Kerns. 
 
 " You started it yourself," said Smith. 
 
 " All right, then ; I ll go on. Haven t I told 
 you a thousand times that, if you are anxious to 
 know how your tenants live, I can tell you, or any 
 of your collectors or your brokers, or even your 
 janitors. Every time you do a thing without my 
 advice you mess matters. You insisted on giving 
 them bath tubs, and they used them for coal, and 
 I had to straighten that out by taking away their 
 cook stoves and substituting gas ranges and ovens. 
 You insisted on inserting rotary ventilators in 
 every window, and the noise of the wheels kept your 
 tenants awake at night ; and, when they don t sleep, 
 they fight. Besides, they all caught cold, and there 
 are a dozen enraged Hibernians suing you now. 
 If you could only know what I know and see what 
 I ve seen " 
 
 " I ve told you a hundred times, Tom, that I 
 84 
 
THE TREE OF DREAMS 
 
 don t intend to slop over and bestow charity ; but 
 I do want to know what are my just obligations to 
 my tenants, and how I can place them in a better 
 position." 
 
 He was somewhat heated when he finished, 
 and stood touching his forehead with his handker 
 chief. 
 
 " Toot ! Toot ! " said Kerns plaintively, back 
 ing toward the door. " The next stop is Chau- 
 tauqua. Go it your own way, Smithy ; I m about 
 due at the club for luncheon." 
 
 The door slammed as the wash basin struck it ; 
 Smith glared at the dent in the woodwork, pre 
 pared to hurl the coffeepot. But Kerns did not 
 come back; and, after a while, he replaced the 
 coffeepot, searched his trunk for a collar, but 
 toned it to his flannel shirt, and, picking up his 
 hat, went out into the hallway. 
 
 And there he encountered the slender girl with 
 the blue eyes. 
 
 There was something very innocent in her con 
 fident, fearless gaze; as he passed her, lifting his 
 hat, he bade her good day in his pleasant voice. 
 Her quaintly impersonal nod in acknowledgment 
 pleased him. 
 
 " Just what I thought," he reflected, as he de 
 scended the stairs : " the poor are always nice to 
 85 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 each other ; they re frank and human, unspoiled 
 by our asinine code of conventions. If I d worn 
 a top hat that girl would have looked the other 
 way ; if I d noticed her she d have been defiant or 
 sullen or saucy." 
 
 And while he trudged about, purchasing grocer 
 ies for his luncheon, he looked out upon the world 
 through optimistic glasses, smiling, warm-hearted, 
 pleased with himself and everybody he encountered. 
 
 He was hungry it being long past his regular 
 luncheon time an hour from which he had not 
 varied half a dozen times in a dozen years. 
 
 As he ascended the iron stairs of his lodging 
 house once more he counted over the little packages 
 of groceries piled up in his arms butter, salt, 
 sugar, a bottle of milk, tea, coffee, rolls, and 
 eggs. " Probably too much," he reflected ; " I ll 
 have to go about among these people and find 
 out what they eat Good Heavens! that is 
 awful!" 
 
 In his own hallway a khamsin gust of cabbage 
 smote him with its answer to his question, and he 
 shuddered. He forced his door in with the point 
 of his knee, made his way to the table, and dropped 
 the packages. Then, producing a match box, he 
 advanced blithely toward the gas range. 
 
 " The first thing to do is to start that exceed- 
 86 
 
THE TREE OF DREAMS 
 
 ingly convenient machine and get action at once," 
 he continued, turning on the gas and lighting a 
 match. " Cooking coffee and eggs is nothing to 
 any man who has ever camped out in the 
 woods " 
 
 Flash! bang! went the gas range; and Smith 
 executed what his office boys might have character 
 ized as a " quick get-away." 
 
 " W-what a perfectly ghastly species of range," 
 he stammered, " g-going off in a man s face like a 
 t-t-ten-inch shell ! " He sat down in the only chair, 
 breathed hard, and stared at the range ; then, sud 
 denly afraid that gas might be pouring into the 
 room, he crept toward it, lighted another match, 
 and extended his arm like the hero touching off a 
 magazine in the ship s hold. 
 
 Bang ! repeated the gas range emphatically. 
 
 " W-well, this is a pleasant situation ! " he 
 breathed, wringing his slightly scorched fingers. 
 " Am I expected to fry my eggs over a volcano? " 
 
 Hesitating, he wiped his glasses, affixed them, 
 and gazed earnestly at the range. Very gingerly 
 he tiptoed toward it and, with a sudden dash, 
 turned off the gas. 
 
 For a while he alternately stood in front of it 
 and walked all around it. He looked at his coffee 
 and eggs he could not eat them raw. It was now 
 7 87 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 long after his usual luncheon hour, and he began 
 to feel famished. 
 
 " The trouble is that I don t know how to get 
 the proper spark," he reflected; but, driven by 
 necessity, he turned on the gas once more, and, 
 lighting a match, applied it. There was no ex 
 plosion this time ; a bluish flame played all over the 
 machine for a few seconds, sank, rose, subsided, 
 and went out. In vain he lighted match after 
 match. He got no more flame. 
 
 " This is a disgracefully run house ! " he ex 
 claimed aloud. " It s high time I heard something 
 about it ! Here I am two hours late and can t get 
 enough heat to cook an egg ! " 
 
 Very angry, he marched out on a hunt for the 
 janitor; but, after climbing up and down stairs 
 and making inquiries on every landing, he had come 
 no nearer to discovering the janitor. A gentle 
 man named Dugan thought that the janitor might 
 be engaged in tenpins at Bauer s popular corner 
 resort. Smith repaired thither, but could not dis 
 cover him. Another gentleman, named Clancy, 
 emerging from the two-room apartment adjoining 
 Smith s, came in at Smith s invitation and rubbed 
 a flat, rough thumb up and down the range. Then 
 he departed, scratching his head and advising fur 
 ther search for the jaintor. 
 88 
 
THE TREE OF DREAMS 
 
 " Ye cud cook a bit an a sup on our own range," 
 he said, " but th ould woman do be bilin shirrts." 
 
 When Mr. Clancy had departed Smith spent ten 
 more minutes tinkering with the range, growing 
 hungrier and hungrier every second. But, hungry, 
 angry and discouraged as he was, he obstinately 
 refused to consider a restaurant as even a tempo 
 rary solution. Once more he set off down the end 
 less iron and concrete stairway to hunt up the 
 janitor; and, returning unsuccessful, encountered 
 the janitor on his own landing. The janitor was 
 talking to the girl with the blue eyes. 
 
 " Please don t let me interrupt you," said Smith ; 
 " it s only that I can t work my range." 
 
 " You are not interrupting," said the girl with 
 the blue eyes. " My ceiling is beginning to fall, 
 that is all." 
 
 66 I ll have that attended to at once ! " exclaimed 
 Smith, forgetting his role of tenant " that is," 
 he added, in confusion, " the janitor will notify 
 M , the agent. You will, won t you? " he con 
 tinued, turning to the janitor, whose face had been 
 growing redder and redder as he grew madder 
 and madder. 
 
 " Where do you think you are ? " he demanded. 
 " In the Waldorf ? An who do you think you are, 
 young man? John D.? or the Dutch Emp ror? 
 89 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 Or do you think you re J. Abingdon Smith, the 
 owner of this here plant, because you look like his 
 grandfather s hired man ? " 
 
 " Not at all," said Smith, turning red. " I had 
 no intention of interfering." 
 
 " Well, you go and sit on your range and keep 
 it warm till I get a gasfitter, see ! " growled the 
 janitor; " an mebbe he ll fix it to-night," he said, 
 looking back malevolently over his shoulder as he 
 descended the stairs, " an mebbe he ll fix it next 
 month. You mind your business, young man, an 
 I ll mind yours." 
 
 Smith, tingling all over, looked after him, but 
 his anger passed with a shrug and a short laugh 
 as he realized that the rebuke had been in a fash 
 ion his own fault. 
 
 He had made a step across the hallway toward 
 his own room, when he remembered the girl with 
 the blue eyes. 
 
 " I m sorry I caused any unpleasantness," he 
 said. " I hope the janitor won t visit his petty 
 tyranny on you." 
 
 " I don t think he will ; I Can t you make 
 your range burn properly ? " 
 
 " No," he said, smiling. " It blew up three 
 times, and now it has retired from active business. 
 I believe it has become permanently extinct." 
 90 
 
THE TREE OF DREAMS 
 
 " Perhaps," she ventured, " you are not accus 
 tomed to gas ranges. Are you? " 
 
 " No, but I ve got to learn to manage them if 
 I m to do any cooking." He thought she meant 
 to speak again, but, as she said no more, he turned 
 to his own door. Behind him a hesitating voice 
 began : 
 
 " You may use my range to cook on until your 
 own is repaired, if you wish " 
 
 " That s awfully nice of you," he said, grate 
 fully surprised. " I ve only a couple of eggs to 
 fry or boil and a little coffee, but I didn t like 
 to ask you " 
 
 " You didn t. I asked you," she said. " You 
 are quite welcome." And, as he still hesitated : " I 
 really don t mind," she said. " I can take my work 
 somewhere else while you are cooking." 
 
 " No, no," he protested, beginning to realize the 
 inconvenience he was causing her ; but she nodded 
 impatiently and, stepping back into her room, be 
 gan to gather up into a writing portfolio a mass 
 of scattered papers. 
 
 A few moments later he appeared in the open 
 doorway, his arms piled high with the paper pack 
 ages containing groceries. She looked up at him, 
 her hands full of inky papers. Unbidden laugh 
 ter was sparkling in her blue eyes. 
 91 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " The range is ready," she said, schooling her 
 voice. " You may begin at once. I shall be gone 
 in a second." And she began to rummage furi 
 ously among the papers. 
 
 Sidelong glances she could not help casting 
 at his culinary preparations. She saw him ruin 
 two eggs, and hid her face in the table drawer 
 where she was searching for that elusive some 
 thing. 
 
 " No use trying to fry those eggs," he observed, 
 gazing at the disintegrating yolks. 
 
 " You could scramble them," she suggested, 
 raising her pretty head. Her face was delicately 
 flushed ; a bright strand of hair, loosened, fell like 
 a tendril across one pink cheek. 
 
 " To scramble an egg," he said slowly, as though 
 attempting to recall some intricate evolution in 
 cookery " To scramble an egg, you stir it round 
 and round, I believe." 
 
 " And to scramble two eggs," she said almost 
 hysterically, " you stir them both round and 
 round." 
 
 "But," he added thoughtfully, " how to get 
 them into the pan. I suppose one pours them 
 in " 
 
 " Don t ! Please don t ! You have put no but 
 ter in yet," she said ; but he had already poured a 
 92 
 
THE TREE OF DREAMS 
 
 spoonful into the pan, where it began to char and 
 sputter and smoke. 
 
 She laid aside her portfolio and papers, removed 
 the smoking pan, scraped it, tinkered with it, and 
 then, preparing it properly, poured in the remain 
 der of the eggs. 
 
 " It s awfully good of you. I m ashamed of 
 myself," he muttered ; " but, please please don t 
 mind about the coffee. I can do that, I m 
 sure." 
 
 " It will take only a moment," she said. " You 
 are not accustomed to to gas ranges, I see." 
 
 Before he knew it his modest luncheon was ready. 
 She swept the papers from the table, threw over 
 it a white square of linen, and placed his luncheon 
 under his mortified eyes. 
 
 " It will get cold if you attempt to carry it 
 back to your room. You are quite welcome to eat 
 it here, believe me. My range may fail me some 
 day and I may have to beg a little fire at your 
 door." 
 
 " You shall have oceans of it ! " he cried grate 
 fully. 
 
 " Thank you ; and, please, begin. I am on my 
 way out." 
 
 " Am I driving you away ? I know I am 
 
 " No, really you are not. I work out of doors 
 93 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 all I can. I was going out as soon as the janitor 
 came to examine my ceiling." She raised her 
 pretty eyes; he looked aloft. 
 
 "It s a leak," he said. "I ll have it fi 
 I mean I ll tell the jan What I do mean," 
 he said, " is that somebody ought to have it 
 fixed." 
 
 " I think so, too," she said demurely, gathering 
 up her portfolio and papers. At the doorsill she 
 halted: 
 
 " But but how but who is going to lock my 
 door ? " she asked. 
 
 " Oh, I d better take my luncheon into my own 
 room ! " 
 
 " No, no. Please sit down again. Please do so 
 now! I can leave my key with you if you are 
 going to be here." 
 
 He thought to himself, charmed, what touch 
 ing confidence the poor have in each other s 
 honesty. 
 
 She drew from her purse the door key and laid 
 it beside his plate. 
 
 " If I don t hear you in the hallway, will you 
 please knock? " he asked. 
 
 " I think you had better leave the key with the 
 janitor," she said ; then, thinking further along 
 the same line : " or perhaps you had better hide it." 
 94 
 
THE TREE OF DREAMS 
 
 She stepped back into the hallway and looked all 
 around; but no plausible hiding place presented 
 itself. Then she gazed at him. 
 
 " I might leave it with my neighbor, Mrs. 
 Clancy," he said with rare intelligence. 
 
 " No," she said with her pretty, fearless smile, 
 " I will knock at your door and ask for it." 
 
 She was gone before he could rise again. 
 
 When he had finished he washed the dishes and 
 did it thoroughly, restoring each to its shelf. His 
 remaining groceries and his own tinware he car 
 ried into his own habitation, came back and locked 
 her door, and then, lighting his pipe, began to 
 prowl about the corridors. 
 
 Presently he fished out a pad and pencil, and, 
 squatting down on the stairway, made some notes 
 concerning the use of steel for doorsills and 
 frames, and tiles or tassellated floors to replace 
 the already worn and dirty planks of Southern 
 pine. 
 
 " First of all, plenty of ventilation," he mur 
 mured. " Next, cleanliness ; next, light. ... I 
 I ve a mind to complete the entire block put up 
 a big, square tower on that vacant lot a big, 
 clean, airy tower, ten stories sixteen twenty, by 
 jingo!" 
 
 He seized his pad with enthusiasm and drew a 
 95 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 plan of the block which he owned with the present 
 model tenements on it and showing the vacant lot : 
 
 J L 
 
 J L 
 
 Street 
 
 I I I 
 
 There were no windows giving on the vacant lot 
 nothing but blank brick walls. 
 
 " That s what I ll do," he thought. " I ll have 
 my own way for once. I ll plan and design and 
 build an absolutely beautiful and sanitary tower 
 with a hundred rooms and two elevators in it, and 
 Kerns can laugh if he wants to. What these peo 
 ple need is light and air cheap light and cheap 
 air. I ll just go down and take a look at that 
 lot." 
 
 He pocketed pad and pencil, seized his hat, and, 
 locking his door on the outside, ran down the 
 stairs. 
 
 " You can t go into that lot," said the janitor. 
 " No tenants ain t allowed in there by orders of 
 Mr. Kerns." 
 
 " Well, can t I just look at it? " 
 
 " No," said the janitor. " An lemme tell you 
 
THE TREE OF DREAMS 
 
 something else. If you an me is goin to gee you d 
 better do less buttin in an less runnin up an 
 downstairs. You butt in an you run around like 
 you was the Dutch Emp ror. Say, what are you 
 lookin for, anyhow? If you re a spotter, say so; 
 I ain t worryin . If you re just loony you re in 
 the wrong hotel." 
 
 " But, my good fellow " 
 
 "Forget it!" retorted the janitor wrathfully. 
 " Your good fellow ! Look here, Percy, I ain t 
 your good fellow, nor I ain t your dear old college 
 chum, an no buttin in goes. See?" 
 
 " I m not attempting to offend you ! " exclaimed 
 Smith desperately. 
 
 " That s all right, too," said the janitor uncon 
 vinced. " You seen me talkin to Miss Stevens an 
 you make a play like you owned the buildin . 
 Here, me good man, sez you, fix this an fix 
 
 that, an be d d quick about it, too, sez 
 
 you " 
 
 "I didn t," retorted Smith indignantly; "at 
 least I didn t mean to say " 
 
 " What you are," interrupted the janitor delib 
 erately, " God knows an I don t. You may be 
 makin phony stuff up there fur all I know." 
 
 "What s phony stuff?" demanded Smith, get 
 ting hotter. 
 
 97 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " Look into the dictionary, Clarence," retorted 
 the janitor, and slammed the door of his office in 
 Smith s face. 
 
 " That man," thought Smith to himself, as he 
 started up the stairs, " is a singularly impudent 
 man, but he s probably faithful enough. I shall 
 not do anything about it. But I wish I could get 
 into my vacant lot." 
 
 The remainder of the afternoon he spent draw 
 ing magnificently unbuildable plans for his tower. 
 
 Then he pulled his chair out into the fire escape 
 and sat there through the sunset hour and into the 
 smoky June twilight. 
 
 Suddenly, as he sat there, dreaming, a faint 
 sound at his door brought him to his feet and into 
 the room. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he said. " I was out on 
 the fire escape. Did you knock more than once? " 
 
 " It doesn t matter," she said, smiling under the 
 shadow of her big straw hat and taking her key 
 from him. 
 
 " I m terribly sorry," he repeated, " and I really 
 am very grateful for letting me cook on your 
 range " 
 
 " Is yours fixed yet? " she asked diffidently. 
 
 " By George ! " he said. " I d forgotten that ! 
 But it doesn t matter," he added, determined to dine 
 98 
 
THE TREE OF DREAMS 
 
 on the remainder of his rolls and milk, for he sim 
 ply would not begin by running to a restaurant 
 at the first mishap. 
 
 She hesitated, not knowing whether again to 
 offer her salt and fire ; then, finding it too difficult, 
 she said " Good night " in a low voice, and crossed 
 the hallway to her own abode. And there she sat 
 down, fair face tense, gaze concentrated on space, 
 her big straw hat still on her head, her portfolio 
 and papers in her lap. 
 
 Minutes ticked away on the little nickel alarm 
 clock. She pondered on, and, sometimes, her 
 straight, delicate brows contracted, and, sometimes, 
 her teeth worried the edge of her lower lip; and 
 once she smiled and lifted her eyes as though she 
 could see through her closed door into his room 
 across the hall. 
 
 After that she rose, made her toilet, cooked her 
 own supper; and when, at length, the dishes had 
 been laid away and her pretty hands rinsed, care 
 fully examined, and soothed with glycerine and 
 cream of almonds luxuries she preferred to a 
 varied menu she laid a pile of yellow manuscript 
 paper on her table, and, dipping her pen into the 
 ink, began to scribble like mad. For, at last, her 
 chance in life had come. 
 
 Meanwhile, Smith, doggedly munching his but- 
 99 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 tered rolls, drank his milk and considered plans 
 for doing good to his tenants without either injur 
 ing their self-respect or bankrupting himself. 
 
 " Buy up block after block, cover em with hand 
 some sanitary tenements, with a big, grassy court 
 and a fountain in the middle that s the decent and 
 self-respecting way to invest one s surplus ! That s 
 the only way a rich man can keep his own respect 
 and administer his stewardship. I d be ashamed 
 to make any more money! I won t! I d be 
 ashamed to keep what I have if I didn t use the 
 income to help somebody. Clean, airy, sunny 
 homes within the means of the poorest working 
 people ! It can be done without making it a char 
 ity. It s got to be done. I m going to build that 
 tower if my janitor ever lets me into the lot 
 
 After he had completed his ablutions and was 
 ready for bed he stood a moment at the open 
 window looking out over the city. 
 
 " That girl she was very nice to me. . . . I ve 
 the oddest notion that I ve seen her before . . . 
 somewhere. Wonderfully ah decorative her 
 eyes a graceful way of er moving." 
 
 He lay down on his bed and pulled up the sheet. 
 
 A few minutes later he murmured drowsily: 
 " Build handsome tower spite of Kerns. . . . 
 Nobody pay rent. . . . Strordinary eyes that girl 
 100 
 
THE TREE OF DREAMS 
 
 . . . pretty blue very blue for a "a, -ga.\. ., ; : J 
 Strordinary rot I m talking. ... G night, Smith; 
 . . . night!" 
 
 The next morning a pessimistic gasfitter re 
 paired Smith s range. That night it blew up 
 again. Two days later it was again in commis 
 sion, then remained quiescent for a week. After 
 that the range worked fitfully, intimidating Smith 
 until it had him so thoroughly cowed that he never 
 attempted to light it except with the match in 
 serted in the end of a broom handle. Between the 
 range and the cookery he was almost famished. 
 
 However, it was a matter of too little importance 
 to disturb him in his purpose; the days were full 
 days indeed, no matter how empty he went. Hour 
 after hour he sat cramped over the table, drawing 
 impossible plans and elevations for the completion 
 of his model tenements. Hour after hour he 
 tramped the hot streets in search of likely sites for 
 further philanthropic operations. 
 
 Almost every morning and evening he was sure 
 to encounter his blue-eyed neighbor on the landing 
 or stairs ; and, after a while, he began to spend a 
 few minutes of the day in looking forward to these 
 brief meetings. 
 
 Matters were not going very well with his blue- 
 101 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 ey^d neighbor ; but he didn t know it. Her work, 
 always precarious and dependent on the whims of 
 several underpaid people, was not sufficient to keep 
 her very well nourished during the hot months of 
 midsummer. She defaulted on the July payment 
 for her small piano, and they took it away. The 
 little desk went later ; an armchair followed. 
 
 Alone in her room, palely considering the why 
 and wherefore of the disagreeable, she invariably 
 almost fell a prey to temptation; but, so far, the 
 victory had remained with her. Temptation came 
 when somebody refused her work or when some 
 body removed an article of furniture for nonpay 
 ment of the installment due, and the temptation 
 confronted her in the shape of a packet of yellow 
 manuscript. 
 
 She was the author of the manuscript ; it lay in a 
 drawer of her table. 
 
 Sometimes, when they frightened her by giving 
 her no work or by lugging off a chair, she would 
 sit down, white and desperate, and take out her 
 manuscript and read it through. 
 
 She knew where she could place it in an hour. 
 She had been promised a permanent position on the 
 strength of just such work. It was well done, of 
 its sort. It fairly bristled with double-leaded head 
 lines ; it was yellow enough for the yellowest a 
 102 
 
THE TREE OF DREAMS 
 
 " beat," a " scoop," a story that would be copied in 
 every newspaper of the country. The title of it 
 was " A Millionaire in Disguise." The subject, 
 Smith. She had only to show it to the city editor 
 who had promised to take her on the first time she 
 displayed any ability. All she had to do was to 
 tuck the yellow sheets under her arm and start 
 downtown, and that would end all this removing 
 of furniture and scarcity of foodstuffs all this 
 sleeplessness, this perplexed dismay all these 
 heavy-hearted journeys to the offices of the fashion 
 papers where sometimes she was paid for her arti 
 cles on domestic affairs and sometimes not. 
 
 After these experiences she usually returned to 
 the temptation of her yellow manuscript, read it 
 through, wept a little, cast it from her into the 
 table drawer once more, and buried her face in her 
 slim hands. Later, she usually dried her eyes, hur 
 riedly gathered up her papers and portfolio, and, 
 locking the door on the outside, descended to the 
 cellar. 
 
 In this profound crypt a small iron door and a 
 few stone steps ascending permitted her access to 
 the vacant lot which the janitor had forbidden 
 Smith to enter. And here she was accustomed to 
 sit in the long, rank grass under a big ailantus 
 tree, writing for the fashion papers, to which she 
 8 103 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 contributed such predigested pabulum as the weak- 
 minded might assimilate. In this manner she paid 
 for lodging, board, and almond cream. 
 
 Meanwhile, she was growing shyer and more 
 formal with Smith when they chanced to meet on 
 stairs or landing. Beginning with the politely 
 pleasant exchange of a few words concerning the 
 initial episode which had excused their acquaint 
 ance, they had ventured on a little laughter at his 
 expense a shade less of the impersonal. But, 
 little by little, the pretty, fearless gaze which he 
 found so attractive changed to something more 
 reserved and far less expressive. Her laughter, 
 always edging lips and eyes, her untroubled voice, 
 with its winningly careless sweetness, changed, too. 
 He noticed this. Sometimes he wondered whether 
 she was quite well. He had been aware from the 
 first that she did not belong in her surroundings 
 any more than did he, and at times he speculated 
 on the subject, wondering what crumbling of her 
 social and financial fabric had landed her here on 
 her own resources, stranded along the outer edges 
 of things. 
 
 One scorching day he had been drawing an 
 
 elevation for his tower, which partook impartially 
 
 of the worst in both Manhattan, Gothic, and 
 
 Chinese architecture a new crinkle in his theory 
 
 104 
 
THE TREE OF DREAMS 
 
 being that the poor had a right to the best in art, 
 and that they should have it in spite of Kerns. 
 For an hour he had been trying to estimate the 
 cost of such a masterpiece, and had grown cross 
 and discouraged in the effort. 
 
 July was fast going. August already had been 
 discounted by the monthly magazines; he had 
 purchased one which contained an article on con 
 crete construction, and, tired of his sweltering 
 room, he put on his hat, pocketed the magazine, 
 and went out to seek a bit of shade in Central 
 Park. 
 
 As he passed his neighbor s door he glanced at 
 it a trifle wistfully. He had not seen her now for 
 nearly a week. He actually missed her, even 
 though now she seldom seemed to have the leisure 
 or inclination to chat with him. 
 
 The last time, he reflected, that they had ex 
 changed a dozen words, he had, lured by her recep 
 tively intelligent attitude, drifted into an almost 
 enthusiastic dissertation upon model lodgings for 
 the poor. He had kept her standing before her 
 door for almost half an hour while he, forgetting 
 everything except the subject and the acquies 
 cence of his audience, had aired his theories with 
 a warmth and brilliancy which, later, it slightly 
 astonished him to remember. 
 105 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 Since that they had exchanged scarcely a word. 
 And now, as he passed her door, he looked wist 
 fully at it, thinking of his slender neighbor. 
 
 And, thinking of her, he descended the stairs, 
 and, still immersed in this agreeable reverie, he did 
 not notice that he had passed the ground floor and 
 was descending the cellar stairs, until he came to 
 in front of an iron door. This seemed unfamiliar. 
 He took out his handkerchief to rub his glasses, 
 looked around at the furnaces and coal bins, passed 
 his hand over his eyes, replaced the glasses, gazed 
 at the iron door which was partly ajar, and caught 
 a glimpse of green grass outside. 
 
 " I ll bet that s my vacant lot," he said aloud, 
 and, opening the door, he ascended the stone steps 
 into his own property. 
 
 There was green grass everywhere; south and 
 west a high board fence ; north and east the brick, 
 windowless, rearward cliffs of the tenements ; in the 
 middle of the lot an ailantus tree in full foliage. 
 
 And, under it, a young girl lying in the grass, 
 her wide straw hat hanging from a leafy branch 
 above. Even before he stirred in his tracks she 
 sat up, instinctively looking across the grass at 
 him. It was his duty to make his excuses and go. 
 But, for almost the first time in his life, he de 
 liberately neglected duty. 
 106 
 
THE TREE OF DREAMS 
 
 " So this is where you come every day to work 
 out of doors ! " he exclaimed, smiling, as he halted 
 beside her where she remained, seated in the grass, 
 looking up at him. 
 
 There was color in her face and in his, too. He 
 had had absolutely no idea how pleasant it could 
 be to meet his neighbor again after so many days 
 seven in number but a great many all the 
 same. 
 
 Then he told her, laughingly, how he came to 
 discover the cellar door that led to Paradise. 
 " Paradise," he repeated ; " for, you see, the Tree 
 of Ten Thousand Dreams is here. Did you know 
 that the ailantus tree is the Chinese Tree of 
 Paradise the fabled Tree of Dreams ? Have you 
 never heard of the Feng-Shui? Dragons live deep 
 in the earth among the tree roots. You didn t 
 know that, did you? " 
 
 " No," he said, smiling, " I didn t know 
 that." 
 
 He looked at her. Her manner was not very 
 cordial, and he decided not to ask permission to 
 seat himself just yet. But he had nothing in 
 particular to say to her and he was very anxious 
 to say it. 
 
 The Fung-Hwang also perches in the branches 
 of the Dream Tree," he continued, for lack of a 
 
 107 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 better topic ; " it s an imperial as well as a celestial 
 tree. Are you interested in Chinese mythology? 
 If you are not, it s all right, because I am inter 
 ested in anything you like." 
 
 She looked up at the foliage above her. " It 
 is a curious tree," she said. " In early June these 
 branches were full of great olive and rose-colored 
 moths, enormous ones, flopping about at sunset 
 like big, soft bats. In the daytime they hang to 
 the leaves and bark, wings wide such beautiful, 
 such miraculous wings set with silvery quarter- 
 moons ! " 
 
 She raised both hands to the nape of her neck 
 to smooth and secure her hair a most fascinating 
 gesture, he thought, watching her seated there 
 in the grass, slim and graceful as the lovely lotus- 
 bearing goddess, Kwan-Yin. 
 
 " Silvery quarter-moons," she repeated, " and 
 now, look! The silver has changed into metal 
 pendants!" She pointed upward where, among 
 the foliage, shining, white cocoons swung from 
 silk-wound stems, each wrapped in its single green 
 leaf. 
 
 " Wonderful fairy fruit your Tree of Dreams 
 bears ! " he said. " And how thickly it hangs ! I 
 don t know much about such things. I was in 
 clined to be fond of all that until I read some 
 108 
 
THE TREE OF DREAMS 
 
 modern nature books. So I fell back on real 
 myths again." 
 
 She began to laugh and, meeting in her eyes all 
 the old-tirne friendliness, he ventured to ask if he 
 might seat himself. 
 
 " Yes," she said gravely, " but I must be 
 going." 
 
 " Then I don t care to stay here," he said, un 
 prepared to hear himself utter any such senti 
 ment. His astonishment at himself overcame even 
 the reaction which turned his face red. She, too, 
 surprised, looked at him unconvinced. 
 
 " What have I to do with it ? " she inquired. 
 
 " The fact is," he said impressively, as though 
 the intelligence were well worth sharing with her, 
 " I have been rather lonely." 
 
 " Have you? " she asked, wide-eyed. " So have 
 I. But I usually am." 
 
 " I wish you had said so ! " 
 
 " How could I? And to whom? " 
 
 They said nothing more for a while. The sun 
 light, filtering through the Tree of Dreams, glim 
 mered on her hair. Her eyes, darker in the 
 shadow, dwelt tranquilly upon the waste of thick, 
 tall grass which the languid breezes furrowed now 
 and then. 
 
 " Do you mind my offering you my f riend- 
 109 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 ship? " he asked at length; " for that s what I m 
 doing." 
 
 " No, I don t mind," she replied listlessly. 
 " Other men have done that." 
 
 " Will you accept this time ? " 
 
 " Shall I ? " she asked, raising her clear eyes. 
 " Shall I? I have been here two years and I have 
 made no friends." 
 
 She folded her unringed hands on her knees, 
 examined them with calm inattention, and said: 
 " After a while, I suppose, a girl becomes 
 partly stupefied under the strain of it all the 
 tension of self-respecting silence. Two years 
 of self-suppression! Even pickpockets receive 
 a sentence more humane. Shall I try your 
 remedy ? " 
 
 " It would be very j oily to see each other, now 
 and then," he said, so pleasantly that she smiled at 
 his simplicity. 
 
 " What about the conventions ? " she inquired, 
 amused. " Still, after all, what has a girl to do 
 with conventions who lives as I live? Her problem 
 is a great deal simpler than to bother with usages." 
 There was a defiant smile hovering about eyes and 
 lips a hint of recklessness in the bright color 
 rising under his gaze : " A girl can t live and 
 flourish on silence." 
 
 110 
 
THE TREE OF DREAMS 
 
 " You always hurry past me when we meet " 
 
 " But surely you didn t expect me to invite you 
 to a seat on the stairs, did you? " 
 
 " I wish you had." 
 
 " Then why didn t you invite me ? " she asked 
 with a gay audacity new to him. For, in the 
 summer sunshine of the moment, she was forget 
 ting all except the pleasure of the moment and 
 its pretense that the old order of things had re 
 turned. Sunshine and green grass and the sophis 
 ticated city breeze in the leaves above youth, 
 and ardent health, and one of her own kind 
 to speak to after the arid silence of these sad 
 months what wonder that she willfully for 
 got? What wonder that she dared to breathe 
 and laugh again, drifting and relaxing in the 
 moment s merciful relief from a tension that 
 had benumbed her to the verge of actual stu 
 pidity ? 
 
 Afterwards, in her room, the relaxed strain 
 tightened again. She realized their acquaintance 
 was only an episode she knew his advent here was 
 but a caprice. But it was an interim that gave 
 her a chance a brief vacation in which she might 
 breathe for a moment before the inevitable re 
 turned again to submerge her. And she meant to 
 enjoy it with all her heart every moment, every 
 111 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 atom of sunshine, every bright second of respite 
 from what she actually dared look forward to no 
 longer. 
 
 That first meeting under the ailantus tree was 
 only one of a sequence. 
 
 At first, when he came sauntering across the 
 grass, she politely laid aside her work disserta 
 tion on flounces and napkins and old mahogany 
 and the care of infants, and what Heppelwhite 
 knew about table legs, and why Sheraton is usually 
 saluted as Chippendale. 
 
 Later, she continued her work unembarrassed 
 as long as she was able to concentrate her mind 
 under the agreeable little shock of pleasure which 
 his advent always brought to her. 
 
 " How did you find out all about such things ? " 
 he asked curiously, looking over her manuscripts 
 with her shrugged permission. 
 
 " All about what things? " 
 
 " These ah crooked-legged tables and squat 
 ty chairs ? " 
 
 " I had them once." 
 
 " I see," he said gravely. Then, with embar 
 rassed hesitation, but very nicely : " There must 
 have been a pretty bad smash-up ? " 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 112 
 
THE TREE OF DREAMS 
 
 " Ah I m awfully sorry ! Hope it s going to 
 come out all right some day." 
 
 " Thank you." But she continued to be brief 
 and uncommunicative, never volunteering any 
 thing. 
 
 In the days when she became accustomed to his 
 coming to find her under the tree, she ventured to 
 continue her writing, merely greeting him with 
 a nod of confidence and pleasure. And so he fell 
 into the habit of bringing his own impossible plans 
 and elevations to the vacant lot. And often, biting 
 her pencil reflectively, she would cast side glances 
 at him where he lay, flat in the grassy shade, 
 drawing board under his nose, patiently construct 
 ing lines and angles and Corinthian capitals and 
 Romanesque back doors. He was a very, very 
 poor draughtsman ; even she could see that. 
 
 " I m doing this for a man who means to build 
 a big tower on this lot," he explained cheerfully. 
 " I ve a notion he will be delighted with this plan 
 of mine." 
 
 " Oh, is he going to cut down your Tree of 
 Dreams ! " she exclaimed, raising her eyes in dis 
 may. 
 
 He looked up at the tree, then at her. " By 
 Jove! It is a pity, isn t it? " he said, " after the 
 jolly hours we have spent out here." 
 113 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " Perhaps he won t build his tower until after 
 after " 
 
 "After what?" 
 
 " After we you and I have forgotten all about 
 this tree She hesitated. Then calmly " and 
 each other. Which, of course," she laughed, 
 " means no tower at all." 
 
 He sat so long silent, preoccupied with his 
 drawing, looking at it half dreamily, that she 
 thought he had forgotten her rather foolish ob 
 servations. 
 
 But he hadn t; for he said in a troubled voice: 
 " There s a way a way of taking up big trees. 
 I ll ask him to do it. I don t want it chopped 
 down." 
 
 " You re afraid of angering the dragon ! " she 
 said, laughing. " What use could such a man have 
 for an old ailantus tree? Besides, where could he 
 plant it?" 
 
 " There s a place I know of," he said. " I ll 
 speak to him. . . . No ; it wouldn t do to have our 
 Tree of Dreams cut down 
 
 " It s not my tree," she said, looking down at 
 her pencil ; " it s yours." 
 
 " It is yours," he insisted. " You found it, and 
 I found you under it." 
 
 " Oh, it s mine because I found it ? " she mocked 
 114 
 
THE TREE OF DREAMS 
 
 gayly, " and, I suppose, I m yours because you 
 found me under it." 
 
 Her tongue had run away that time. She 
 checked her badinage, picked up her pencil 
 with an admirable self-possession that admitted 
 nothing, and scribbled away in calm insouci 
 ance. Only the heightened brilliancy of her cheeks 
 could have undeceived the adept. Smith was no 
 adept; besides, he was thinking of other mat 
 ters. 
 
 " Do you know," he said solemnly, " that I am 
 going away for about a week? " 
 
 She congratulated him without raising her head 
 from her writing pad. That was pure instinct, 
 for the emotion she had detected in Smith s voice 
 was perfectly apparent in his features. 
 
 Smith gazed at her for a long time, during 
 which she grew busier and busier with her pencil, 
 and more oblivious of him. 
 
 The intellectual processes of Smith were, at 
 times, childlike in their circuitous simplicity. 
 
 " Do you think I m a good draughtsman ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " I don t know ; are you ? " she asked, number 
 ing a fresh sheet of her pad. 
 
 " Why, you ve seen my drawing ! " he reminded 
 her, a little hurt. " I think I am a good draughts- 
 115 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 man. I could probably earn about a hundred and 
 twenty dollars a month." 
 
 " You are very fortunate," she murmured, rub 
 bing out a sentence. 
 
 " A hundred and twenty dollars a month is 
 enough for anybody to marry on," he continued. 
 " Don t you think so? " 
 
 " It is probably sufficient," she said carelessly. 
 
 "Do#ow think it is?" 
 
 " I haven t considered such matters very seri 
 ously," she said. " It will be time when I am earn 
 ing a hundred and twenty dollars a month. And 
 I m not likely to earn it if you continue to inter 
 rupt me." 
 
 Smith turned red ; presently he tucked his draw 
 ing board under his arm and stood up. 
 
 " I m going," he said. " Good-by." 
 
 She nodded her adieux pleasantly, scarcely rais 
 ing her head from her work. 
 
 But when Smith had disappeared she straight 
 ened up with a quick, indrawn breath and stared 
 across the grass at the blank, brick walls. After 
 a long while she dropped her tired shoulders back 
 against the trunk of the Tree of Dreams, reclining 
 there inert, blue eyes brooding in vacancy. 
 
 Meanwhile, Smith had locked up his room, gone 
 116 
 
THE TREE OF DREAMS 
 
 home for the first time in two months, telephoned 
 for a stateroom on the Western Limited, and 
 sent for Kerns, who presently arrived in an electric 
 cab. 
 
 " I m going to Illinois," said Smith, " to-night." 
 
 " The nation must know of this," insisted 
 Kerns ; " let me telegraph for fireworks." 
 
 " There ll be fireworks," observed Smith" fire 
 works to burn, presently. I m going to get mar 
 ried to a working girl." 
 
 " Oh, piffle ! " said Kerns faintly ; " let s go and 
 sit on the third rail and talk it over." 
 
 " Not with you, idiot. Did you ever hear of 
 Stanley Stevens, who tried to corner wheat? I 
 think it s his daughter I m going to marry. I m 
 going to Chicago to find out. Good heavens, 
 Kerns ! It s the most pitiful case, whoever she is ! 
 It s a case to stir the manhood in any man. I 
 tell you it s got to be righted. I am thoroughly 
 stirred up, and I won t stand any nonsense from 
 you." 
 
 Kerns looked at him. " Smith," he pleaded in 
 sepulchral tones ; " Smithy ! For the sake of de 
 cency and of common sense " 
 
 " Exactly," nodded Smith, picking up his hat 
 and gloves ; " for the sake of decency and of 
 common sense. Good-by, Tommy. And ah ! " 
 
 117 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 indicating a parcel of papers on the desk " just 
 have an architect look over these sketches with a 
 view to estimating the ah cost of construction. 
 And find some good landscape gardener to figure 
 up what it will cost to remove a big ailantus tree 
 from New York to the Berkshires. You can tell 
 him I ll sue him if he injures the tree, but that I 
 don t care what it costs to move it." 
 
 "Smith!" faltered Kerns, appalled, "you re 
 as mad as Hamlet ! " 
 
 " It s one of my ambitions to be madder," re 
 torted Smith, going out and running nimbly 
 downstairs. 
 
 " Help ! " observed Kerns feebly as the front 
 door slammed. And, as nobody responded, he sat 
 down in the bachelor quarters of J. Abingdon 
 Smith, a prey to melancholy amazement. 
 
 When Smith had been gone a week Kerns wrote 
 him, when he had been gone two weeks he tele 
 graphed him, when the third week ended he 
 telephoned him, and when the month was up he 
 prepared to leave for darkest Chicago; in fact 
 he was actually leaving his house, suit case in 
 hand, when Smith drove up in a hansom and glee 
 fully waved his hand. 
 
 Smith beckoned him to enter the cab. " I m 
 going home to put on my old clothes," he said. 
 118 
 
THE TREE OF DREAMS 
 
 " It s all right, Tom. I ve been collecting old 
 furniture, tons of antique chairs and things. 
 They were pretty widely scattered at the sale two 
 years ago 
 
 "What sale, in the name of sanity?" shouted 
 Kerns. 
 
 " Why, when Stanley Stevens failed to corner 
 wheat he shot his head off before they pounced on 
 his effects. I managed to find most of the things. 
 I ve sent them to my place, Abingdon, and now I m 
 going to ask her to marry me." 
 
 "Oh, are you?" 
 
 " Certainly. And, Kerns, if she will have me 
 it will be for my own sake. Do you know what 
 she thinks? She thinks I m a draughtsman at 
 thirty dollars a week. Isn t it delightful? Isn t 
 it perfectly splendid ? " 
 
 " Dazzling," whispered Kerns, unable to utter 
 another word. 
 
 Smith s progress was certainly rapid. When he 
 arrived at the door of his tenement lodgings he 
 fairly soared up the stairs, flight on flight, until 
 he came to the top. 
 
 The door of his neighbor s room stood open 
 
 and he impulsively crossed the hallway, but there 
 
 were only two men there moving out a table, and 
 
 his slender blue-eyed neighbor was nowhere visible. 
 
 9 119 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 "What s that for?" he inquired. "Is Miss 
 Stevens moving? " 
 
 " No, but her table is," said one of the men. 
 
 Something about the proceeding kept Smith 
 silent. He saw one of the men drop his end of the 
 table, close the door, lock it, and hang the key 
 on a nail outside. 
 
 "That isn t safe," said Smith. "I ll take 
 charge of the key until Miss Stevens returns." 
 
 He unhooked it, and, turning, let himself into 
 his own room, but left the door ajar. 
 
 Two flights down the table drawer dropped out, 
 dumping a pile of yellow manuscript on the stairs. 
 
 " Glory ! " panted one of the movers ; " that s 
 hers. Take it up and leave it with the guy in the 
 glasses, Bill." 
 
 And so it happened that Smith, standing out 
 side on his fire escape for a breath of air, returned 
 to find a mass of yellow manuscript littering his 
 bed. 
 
 Wondering, he picked up the first sheet, saw his 
 own name in her handwriting, stared, and sat down 
 in astonishment to read. Suddenly his face burned 
 fiery red, and, as long as he sat there, the deep 
 color remained throbbing, scorching him anew with 
 every page he turned. 
 
 After a long while he dropped the sheets and 
 120 
 
THE TREE OF DREAMS 
 
 returned to the first page. It was dated in June, 
 the day after his arrival. 
 
 He was slowly beginning to understand the mat 
 ter now. He was beginning to realize that this 
 manuscript had been placed in his room by mis 
 take; that it had never been intended for him to 
 read ; that, if it had been written with a purpose, 
 it had never been used for any purpose. 
 
 Then he remembered the moving of her table. 
 Clearly the men had found it and, as he had as 
 sumed possession of her key, no doubt they had 
 returned and flung the papers on his bed. 
 
 "In that case," said Smith thoughtfully, "I 
 think I ll go down to the ailantus tree, and see 
 if, by any chance, she is there." 
 
 She was there, seated in a chair, very intent 
 on her writing pad. He was quite near her before 
 she noticed him, and then she seemed dazed for 
 a moment, rising and holding out her hand me 
 chanically, looking at him in silence as he held her 
 fingers imprisoned. 
 
 " I did not think you would return," she said. 
 " It is a month at least 
 
 " Are you glad to see me ? " 
 
 " Of course," she said simply, reseating herself. 
 " Have you been well? " 
 
 121 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 "Yes; and you?" 
 
 " Perfectly, thank you." 
 
 He looked around at the long grass withered 
 in patches ; at the leafless tree. " Do you remem 
 ber our first encounter here?" he said. 
 
 " Perfectly. You told me that there was a 
 dragon under the tree, and a Chinese bird sat in 
 its branches. That was in August, I think. This 
 is November. Look up at the branches. All the 
 leaves are gone. Only the silvery cocoons are 
 hanging in clusters everywhere." And, bending 
 slowly above her work again, " When are you 
 going to turn our Tree of Dreams into a tower 
 of bricks?" 
 
 But he only sat silent, smiling, watching her 
 white fingers flying over the pad on her knees. 
 
 " I wonder," she said carelessly, " how long you 
 are going to stay here this time." 
 
 " I wonder, too," he said. 
 
 " Don t you know? " she asked, raising her eyes 
 and laughing faintly. 
 
 " No, I don t. Besides, why should I leave this 
 lodging house? I like it." 
 
 " Can t you afford to leave after all that 
 lucrative tower designing?" 
 
 He said, looking at her deliberately : ." You 
 know perfectly well that I can afford to." 
 122 
 
THE TREE OF DREAMS 
 
 Something in the quiet voice and gaze of the 
 man startled her, but only a delicate glow of ris 
 ing color in her cheeks betrayed any lack of self- 
 possession. " I don t think I understand you," she 
 said. 
 
 " I think you do," he insisted, seating himself 
 at her feet in the grass. 
 
 She wrote a word or two on her pad, then looked 
 down to meet his changed smile. A moment more, 
 and she resumed her work in flushed confusion. 
 
 " You know who I am," he said calmly. " I 
 didn t think you did until an hour ago. Shall I 
 tell you what happened an hour ago ? " 
 
 She managed to meet his gaze without expres 
 sion, but she did not answer. 
 
 " Then I will tell you what happened," he con 
 tinued. 
 
 " Some men carried out a table from your room. 
 A few moments later one of the men deposited a 
 lot of loose manuscript which he had, I suppose, 
 found in the table drawer. This all occurred while 
 I was out on the balcony. When I returned to 
 the room I found the papers on my bed. I could 
 not avoid seeing my own name at the head of this 
 breezy newspaper article. It is very cleverly 
 written." 
 
 Wave after wave of scarlet flooded her face. 
 123 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " So you have known who I am all this time? " 
 he nodded slowly. 
 
 " Y-yes." 
 
 " It was a good chance a legitimate chance 
 for an article. You thought so, and you wrote 
 it. The papers would have given it three columns 
 and double leads. . . . Why didn t you use it? " 
 
 The tears flashed in her eyes. " I did not use 
 it for the same reason that I am here with you 
 now ! Some things can be done, and some cannot. 
 Good-by." 
 
 Good-by? " he repeated slowly. 
 
 He stepped back ; she passed before him, halted, 
 turned, and spoke again, steadying her voice which 
 broke deliciously in spite of her : " I did not mean 
 to ridicule you. When I wrote that article I had 
 known you only a day or two and I was desperate 
 frightened half-starved. The chance came, 
 and I took it or tried to. But I couldn t. I never 
 could have. So that is all." 
 
 "T knew all that, too," he said. "I only 
 thought I d speak of it. I wanted to ask you 
 something else " 
 
 She had halted. 
 
 " Ask it," she said, exercising every atom of 
 self-command. 
 
 " Won t you turn around? " 
 124 
 
THE TREE OF DREAMS 
 
 " No. I I cannot. What is it you wish, Mr. 
 Smith?" 
 
 " Ah about this tree. It s to be taken up, I 
 believe. They ve a method of doing it, you know. 
 I ah have considered arrangements." 
 
 She made no movement. 
 
 " Fact is," he ventured, " I ve a sort of a coun 
 try place in the Berkshires. Do you think that our 
 tree would do well in the Berkshires ? " 
 
 " I don t know, Mr. Smith." 
 
 " Oh, I thought, perhaps, you d be likely to 
 know!" 
 
 There was a pause of a full minute. " Is that 
 all? " she asked, turning toward him with tear- 
 flushed self-possession but she had no idea that he 
 was so close to her no idea of what he was doing 
 with her hands so suddenly imprisoned in his. 
 
 " Can you stand such a-a m-man as I am ? " he 
 stammered, the ancestral sentimental streak in 
 the ascendency. " Would yo ah mind marry 
 ing me? " 
 
 Her face was pale enough now. 
 
 " Do you mean you love me ? " she said, dazed. 
 And the next moment she had released her hands, 
 stepping toward the tree. 
 
 " Yes, I mean that," he repeated ; " I love you." 
 
 " But but I do not love you, Mr. Smith " 
 
 125 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " I I know it. P-perhaps you could try. 
 D-do you mind trying a little " 
 
 He had followed her to the ailantus. She re 
 treated, facing him, and now stood backed up 
 against the tree, her hands flat against the trunk 
 behind her. 
 
 " Couldn t you try? " he asked. " I love you 
 I love you dearly. I know you re younger I 
 know you think me m-more or less of a " 
 
 "I don t!" 
 
 " I suppose I really haven t many brains," he 
 said ; " but yours are still intact." 
 
 Her blue eyes filled and grew starry. 
 
 " Did you read that entire article ? " she asked 
 unsteadily " did you ? " 
 
 " Yes in bits before I knew you had not 
 meant me to. ... I guess I am the sort of a man 
 you make fun of " 
 
 Her eyes met his fairly for a moment, were 
 lowered, then again raised. Something within 
 them gave him courage, or perhaps the splendid 
 rising color in her face, or perhaps the provoca 
 tion of her mouth. And he kissed her. She did 
 not stir ; her lips were stiffly unresponsive. 
 
 But when, once more, he bent above her, she 
 caught both his hands with a sob and met his lips 
 with heart and soul, closing her wet eyes. 
 126 
 
THE TREE OF DREAMS 
 
 " D-darling," said J. Abingdon Smith, bending 
 his head over hers where it lay buried in his 
 shoulder, " I don t mind being an ass really I 
 don t " 
 
 Her hands crushed his, signaling silence. 
 
 " It isn t the funny things you wrote about me," 
 he persisted ; " but I really am that sort of a man. 
 And likely to continue. You don t care, do you, 
 dear?" 
 
 " W-when I love you ! " she sobbed ; " how can 
 you say such things ! D-do you think I d love an 
 idiot?" 
 
 He was discreetly silent for a while, then : 
 " Anyway, I ve found all your furniture the 
 bandy-legged chairs and things," he whispered 
 cheerfully. " They are waiting for you at a 
 Abingdon a place I have in the country. Are 
 you pleased ? " 
 
 She lifted her face and made an effort to speak. 
 
 " Never mind," he said, dizzy with happiness, 
 " we ll talk it over to-morrow. I think," he 
 added, " that I ll have the men here to-morrow to 
 remove our tree. There s a splendid place for it 
 on the lawn." 
 
 She turned, her hands clasped in his, and looked 
 up at the Tree of Dreams. Then, very gently, she 
 bent and laid her lips against the bark. 
 127 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 THE BRIDAL PAIR 
 
 " IF I were you," said the elder man, " I should 
 take three months solid rest." 
 
 " A month is enough," said the younger man. 
 " Ozone will do it ; the first brace of grouse I bag 
 will do it " He broke off abruptly, staring at 
 the line of dimly lighted cars, where negro por 
 ters stood by the vestibuled sleepers, directing 
 passengers to staterooms and berths. 
 
 "Dog all right, doctor?" inquired the elder 
 man pleasantly. 
 
 " All right, doctor," replied the younger ; " I 
 spoke to the baggage master." 
 
 There was a silence; the elder man chewed an 
 unlighted cigar reflectively, watching his compan 
 ion with keen narrowing eyes. 
 
 The younger physician stood full in the white 
 electric light, lean head lowered, apparently pre 
 occupied with a study of his own shadow swim 
 ming and quivering on the asphalt at his feet. 
 128 
 
THE BRIDAL PAIR 
 
 " So you fear I may break down ? " he observed, 
 without raising his head. 
 
 " I think you re tired out," said the other. 
 
 " That s a more agreeable way of expressing it," 
 said the young fellow. " I hear " he hesitated, 
 with a faint trace of irritation " I understand 
 that Forbes Stanly thinks me mentally unsound." 
 
 " He probably suspects what you re up to," 
 said the elder man soberly. 
 
 " Well, what will he do when I announce my 
 germ theory? Put me in a strait- jacket? " 
 
 " He ll say you re mad, until you prove it ; 
 every physician will agree with him until your 
 radium test shows us the microbe of insanity." 
 
 " Doctor," said the young man abruptly, " I m 
 going to admit something to you" 
 
 " All right ; go ahead and admit it." 
 
 " Well, I am a bit worried about my own con 
 dition." 
 
 " It s time you were," observed the other. 
 
 " Yes it s about time. Doctor, I am seriously 
 affected." 
 
 The elder man looked up sharply. 
 
 " Yes, I m in love." 
 
 " Ah ! " muttered the elder physician, amused 
 and a trifle disgusted ; " so that s your malady, 
 is it?" 
 
 129 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " A malady yes ; not explainable by our germ 
 theory not affected by radio-activity. Doctor, 
 I m speaking lightly enough, but there s no hap 
 piness in it." 
 
 " Never is," commented the other, striking a 
 match and lighting his ragged cigar. After a 
 puff or two the cigar went out. " All I have 
 to say," he added, " is, don t do it just now. 
 Show me a scale of pure radium and I ll give 
 you leave to marry every spinster in New York. 
 In the mean time go and shoot a few dozen 
 harmless, happy grouse ; they can t shoot back. 
 But let love alone. . . . By the way, who is 
 she?" 
 
 " I don t know." 
 
 " You know her name, I suppose ? " 
 
 The young fellow shook his head. " I don t 
 even know where she lives," he said finally. 
 
 After a pause the elder man took him gently 
 by the arm: "Are you subject to this sort of 
 thing? Are you susceptible?" 
 
 " No, not at all." 
 
 " Ever before in love? " 
 
 " Yes once." 
 
 "When?" 
 
 " When I was about ten years old. Her name 
 was Rosamund aged eight. I never had the 
 130 
 
THE BRIDAL PAIR 
 
 courage to speak to her. She died recently, I 
 believe." 
 
 The reply was so quietly serious, so destitute 
 of any suspicion of humor, that the elder man s 
 smile faded; and again he cast one of his swift, 
 keen glances at his companion. 
 
 " Won t you stay away three months ? " he 
 asked patiently. 
 
 But the other only shook his head, tracing with 
 the point of his walking stick the outline of his 
 own shadow on the asphalt. 
 
 A moment later he glanced at his watch, closed 
 it with a snap, silently shook hands with his 
 equally silent friend, and stepped aboard the 
 sleeping car. 
 
 Neither had noticed the name of the sleeping 
 car. 
 
 It happened to be the Rosamund. 
 
 Loungers and passengers on Wildwood station 
 drew back from the platform s edge as the tower 
 ing locomotive shot by them, stunning their ears 
 with the clangor of its melancholy bell. 
 
 Slower, slower glided the dusty train, then 
 stopped, jolting; eddying circles of humanity 
 closed around the cars, through which descending 
 passengers pushed. 
 
 131 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " Wildwood ! Wildwood ! " cried the trainmen ; 
 trunks tumbling out of the forward car de 
 scended with a bang ! a yelping, wagging set 
 ter dog landed on the platform, hysterically 
 grateful to be free; and at the same moment a 
 young fellow in tweed shooting clothes, carrying 
 gripsack and gun case, made his way forward 
 toward the baggage master, who was being 
 jerked all over the platform by the frantic 
 dog. 
 
 "Much obliged; I ll take the dog," he said, 
 slipping a bit of silver into the official s hand, and 
 receiving the dog s chain in return. 
 
 " Hope you ll have good sport," replied the 
 baggage master. " There s a lot o birds in this 
 country, they tell me. You ve got a good dog 
 there." 
 
 The young man smiled and nodded, released the 
 chain from his dog s collar, and started off up 
 the dusty village street, followed by an urchin 
 carrying his luggage. 
 
 The landlord of the Wildwood Inn stood on the 
 veranda, prepared to receive guests. When a 
 young man, a white setter dog, and a small boy 
 loomed up, his speculative eyes became suffused 
 with benevolence. 
 
 " How-de-do, sir ? " he said cordially. " Guess 
 132 
 
THE BRIDAL PAIR 
 
 you was with us three year since stayed to sup 
 per. Ain t that so ? " 
 
 " It certainly is," said his guest cheerfully. 
 " I am surprised that you remember me." 
 
 " Be ye? " rejoined the landlord, gratified. 
 " Say ! I can tell the name of every man, woman, 
 an child that has ever set down to eat with us. 
 You was here with a pair o red bird dawgs ; shot 
 a mess o birds before dark, come back pegged 
 out, an took the ten-thirty to Noo York. Hey? 
 Yaas, an you was cussin round because you 
 couldn t stay an shoot for a month." 
 
 " I had to work hard in those days," laughed 
 the young man. " You are right ; it was three 
 years ago this month." 
 
 " Time s a flyer ; it s fitted with triple screws 
 these days," said the landlord. " Come right in 
 an make yourself to home. Ed! O Ed! Take 
 this bag to 13! We re all full, sir. You ain t 
 scared at No. 13, be ye? Say! if I ain t a liar 
 you had 13 three years ago! Waal, now! ain t 
 that the dumbdest But you can have what you 
 want Monday. How long was you calkerlatin to 
 stay?" 
 
 " A month if the shooting is good." 
 
 " It s all right. Orrin Plummer come in last 
 night with a mess o pa t ridges. He says the 
 133 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 woodcock is droppin in to the birches south o 
 Sweetbrier Hill." 
 
 The young man nodded, and began to remove 
 his gun from the service-worn case of sole leather. 
 
 " Ain t startin right off, be ye? " inquired his 
 host, laughing. 
 
 " I can t begin too quickly," said the young 
 man, busy locking barrels to stock, while the dog 
 looked on, thumping the veranda floor with his 
 plumy tail. 
 
 The landlord admired the slim, polished weapon. 
 " That s the instrooment ! " he observed. " That 
 there s a slick bird dawg, too. Guess I d better fill 
 my ice box. Your limit s thirty of each cock 
 an pa tridge. After that there s ducks." 
 
 " It s a good, sane law," said the young man, 
 dropping his gun under one arm. 
 
 The landlord scratched his ear reflectively. 
 " Lemme see," he mused; "wasn t you a doctor? 
 I heard tell that you made up pieces for the pa 
 pers about the idjits an loony ticks of Rome an 
 Roosia an furrin climes." 
 
 " I have written a little on European and Asi 
 atic insanity," replied the doctor good-humoredly. 
 
 " Was you over to them parts ? " 
 
 " For three years." He whistled the dog in 
 from the road, where several yellow curs were 
 134 
 
THE BRIDAL PAIR 
 
 walking round and round him, every hair on 
 end. 
 
 The landlord said : " You look a little peaked 
 yourself. Take it easy the fust, is my advice." 
 
 His guest nodded abstractedly, lingering on the 
 veranda, preoccupied with the beauty of the vil 
 lage street, which stretched away westward under 
 tall elms. Autumn- tin ted hills closed the vista; 
 beyond them spread the blue sky. 
 
 " The cemetery lies that way, does it not ? " 
 inquired the young man. 
 
 " Straight ahead," said the landlord. " Take 
 the road to the Holler." 
 
 " Do you " the doctor hesitated " do you re 
 call a funeral there three years ago ? " 
 
 " Whose ? " asked his host bluntly. 
 
 " I don t know." 
 
 " I ll ask my woman ; she saves them funeral 
 pieces an makes a album. . . . Friend o yours 
 buried there? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 The landlord sauntered toward the barroom, 
 where two fellow taxpayers stood shuffling their 
 feet impatiently. 
 
 " Waal, good luck, Doc," he said, without in 
 tentional offense ; " supper s at six. We ll try an 
 make you comfortable." 
 
 10 135 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " Thank you," replied the doctor, stepping out 
 into the road, and motioning the white setter to heel. 
 
 " I remember now," he muttered, as he turned 
 northward, where the road forked ; " the cemetery 
 lies to the westward ; there should be a lane at the 
 next turning " 
 
 He hesitated and stopped, then resumed his 
 course, mumbling to himself : " I can pass the 
 cemetery later; she would not be there; I don t 
 think I shall ever see her again. . . . I I won 
 der whether I am perfectly well " 
 
 The words were suddenly lost in a sharp in 
 drawn breath; his heart ceased beating, fluttered, 
 then throbbed on violently; and he shook from 
 head to foot. 
 
 There was a glimmer of a summer gown under 
 the trees; a figure passed from shadow to sun 
 shine, and again into the cool dusk of a leafy lane. 
 
 The pallor of the young fellow s face changed ; 
 a heavy flush spread from forehead to neck; he 
 strode forward, dazed, deafened by the tumult of 
 his drumming pulses. The dog, alert, suspicious, 
 led the way, wheeling into the bramble-bordered 
 lane, only to halt, turn back, and fall in behind 
 his master again. 
 
 In the lane ahead the light summer gown flut 
 tered under the foliage, bright in the sunlight, 
 136 
 
THE BRIDAL PAIR 
 
 almost lost in the shadows. Then he saw her 
 on the hill s breezy crest, poised for a moment 
 against the sky. 
 
 When at length he reached the hill, he found 
 her seated in the shade of a pine. She looked up 
 serenely, as though she had expected him, and 
 they faced each other. A moment later his dog 
 left him, sneaking away without a sound. 
 
 When he strove to speak, his voice had an un 
 known tone to him. Her upturned face was his 
 only answer. The breeze in the pinetops, which 
 had been stirring lazily and monotonously, ceased. 
 
 Her delicate face was like a blossom lifted in 
 the still air; her upward glance chained him to 
 silence. The first breeze broke the spell : he spoke 
 a word, then speech died on his lips; he stood 
 twisting his shooting cap, confused, not daring 
 to continue. 
 
 The girl leaned back, supporting her weight on 
 one arm, fingers almost buried in the deep green 
 moss. 
 
 " It is three years to-day," he said, in the dull 
 voice of one who dreams ; " three years to-day. 
 May I not speak? " 
 
 In her lowered head and eyes he read acquies 
 cence; in her silence, consent. 
 137 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " Three years ago to-day," he repeated ; " the 
 anniversary has given me courage to speak to you. 
 Surely you will not take offense; we have trav 
 eled so far together ! from the end of the world 
 to the end of it, and back again, here to this 
 place of all places in the world ! And now to find 
 you here on this day of all days here within a 
 step of our first meeting place three years ago 
 to-day ! And all the world we have traveled over 
 since, never speaking, yet ever passing on paths 
 parallel paths which for thousands of miles ran 
 almost within arm s distance " 
 
 She raised her head slowly, looking out from 
 the shadows of the pines into the sunshine. Her 
 dreamy eyes rested on acres of golden-rod and 
 hillside brambles quivering in the September heat ; 
 on fern-choked gullies edged with alder ; on brown 
 and purple grasses ; on pine thickets where slim 
 silver birches glimmered. 
 
 " Will you speak to me? " he asked. " I have 
 never even heard the sound of your voice." 
 
 She turned and looked at him, touching with 
 idle fingers the soft hair curling on her temples. 
 Then she bent her head once more, the faintest 
 shadow of a smile in her eyes. 
 
 " Because," he said humbly, " these long years 
 of silent recognition count for something! And 
 138 
 
THE BRIDAL PAIR 
 
 then the strangeness of it! the fate of it the 
 quiet destiny that ruled our lives that rules them 
 now now as I am speaking, weighting every sec 
 ond with its tiny burden of fate." 
 
 She straightened up, lifting her half-buried 
 hand from the moss ; and he saw the imprint there 
 where the palm and fingers had rested. 
 
 " Three years that end to-day end with the 
 new moon," he said. " Do you remember? " 
 
 " Yes," she said. 
 
 He quivered at the sound of her voice. " You 
 were there, just beyond those oaks," he said 
 eagerly ; " we can see them from here. The road 
 turns there " 
 
 " Turns by the cemetery," she murmured. 
 
 " Yes, yes, by the cemetery ! You had been 
 there, I think." 
 
 " Do you remember that ? " she asked. 
 
 " I have never forgotten never ! " he repeated, 
 striving to hold her eyes to his own ; " it was not 
 twilight ; there was a glimmer of day in the west, 
 but the woods were darkening, and the new moon 
 lay in the sky, and the evening was very clear 
 and still." 
 
 Impulsively he dropped on one knee beside her 
 to see her face ; and as he spoke, curbing his emo 
 tion and impatience with tha subtle deference 
 139 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 which is inbred in men or never acquired, she stole 
 a glance at him ; and his worn visage brightened 
 as though touched with sunlight. 
 
 " The second time I saw you was in New York," 
 he said " only a glimpse of your face in the 
 crowd but I knew you." 
 
 " I saw you," she mused. 
 
 " Did you ? " he cried, enchanted. " I dared 
 not believe that you recognized me." 
 
 " Yes, I knew you. . . . Tell me more." 
 
 The thrilling voice set him aflame ; faint danger 
 signals tinted her face and neck. 
 
 " In December," he went on unsteadily, " I saw 
 you in Paris I saw only you amid the thousand 
 faces in the candlelight of Notre Dame." 
 
 " And I saw you. . . . And then ? " 
 
 " And then two months of darkness. . . . And 
 at last a light moonlight and you on the ter 
 race at Amara." 
 
 " There was only a flower bed a few spikes of 
 white hyacinths between us," she said dreamily. 
 
 He strove to speak coolly. " Day and night 
 have built many a wall between us; was that you 
 who passed me in the starlight, so close that our 
 shoulders touched, in that narrow street in Samar- 
 cand? And the dark figure with you " 
 
 " Yes, it was I and my attendant." 
 140 
 
THE BRIDAL PAIR 
 
 44 And . . . you, there in the fog " 
 
 " At Archangel? Yes, it was I." 
 "On theGoryn?" 
 
 " It was I. ... And I am here at last with 
 you. It is our destiny." 
 
 So, kneeling there beside her in the shadow of 
 the pines, she absolved him in their dim confes 
 sional, holding him guiltless under the destiny that 
 awaits us all. 
 
 Again that illumination touched his haggard 
 face as though brightened by a sun ray stealing 
 through the still foliage above. He grew younger 
 under the level beauty of her gaze ; care fell from 
 him like a mask; the shadows that had haunted 
 his eyes faded; youth awoke, transfiguring him 
 and all his eyes beheld. 
 
 Made prisoner by love, adoring her, fearing 
 her, he knelt beside her, knowing already that she 
 had surrendered, though fearful yet by word or 
 gesture or a glance to claim what destiny was 
 holding for him holding securely, inexorably, for 
 him alone. 
 
 He spoke of her kindness in understanding him, 
 and of his gratitude; of her generosity, of his 
 wonder that she had ever noticed him on his way 
 through the world. 
 
 141 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " I cannot believe that we have never before 
 spoken to each other," he said ; " that I do not 
 even know your name. Surely there was once a 
 corner in the land of childhood where we sat to 
 gether when the world was younger." 
 
 She said, dreamily : " Have you forgotten ? " 
 
 "Forgotten?" 
 
 " That sunny corner in the land of child 
 hood." 
 
 " Had you been there, I should not have for 
 gotten," he replied, troubled. 
 
 " Look at me," she said. Her lovely eyes met 
 his; under the penetrating sweetness of her gaze 
 his heart quickened and grew restless and his un 
 easy soul stirred, awaking memories. 
 
 " There was a child," she said, " years ago ; a 
 child at school. You sometimes looked at her; 
 you never spoke. Do you remember? " 
 
 He rose to his feet, staring down at her. 
 
 " Do you remember? " she asked again. 
 
 "Rosamund! Do you mean Rosamund? How 
 should you know that? " he faltered. 
 
 The struggle for memory focused all his grop 
 ing senses ; his eyes seemed to look her through 
 and through. 
 
 " How can you know? " he repeated unsteadily. 
 "You are not Rosamund. . . . Are you? . . . 
 142 
 
THE BRIDAL PAIR 
 
 She is dead. I heard that she was dead. . . . Are 
 you Rosamund? " 
 
 " Do you not know? " 
 
 " Yes ; you are not Rosamund. . . . What do 
 you know of her ? " 
 
 " I think she loved you." 
 
 "Is she dead?" 
 
 The girl looked up at him, smiling, following 
 with delicate perception the sequence of his 
 thoughts ; and already his thoughts were far from 
 the child Rosamund, a sweetheart of a day long 
 since immortal ; already he had forgotten his ques 
 tion, though the question was of life or death. 
 
 Sadness and unrest and the passing of souls 
 concerned not him ; she knew that all his thoughts 
 were centered on her; that he was already living 
 over once more the last three years, with all 
 their mystery and charm, savoring their fra 
 grance anew in the exquisite enchantment of her 
 presence. 
 
 Through the autumn silence the pines began to 
 sway in a wind unfelt below. She raised her eyes 
 and saw their green crests shimmering and swim 
 ming in a cool current ; a thrilling sound stole out, 
 and with it floated the pine perfume, exhaling in 
 the sunshine. He heard the dreamy harmony 
 above, looked up; then, troubled, somber, moved 
 143 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 by he knew not what, he knelt once more in the 
 shadow beside her close beside her. 
 
 She did not stir. Their destiny was close upon 
 them. It came in the guise of love. 
 
 He bent nearer. " I love you," he said. " I 
 loved you from the first. And shall forever. 
 You knew it long ago." 
 
 She did not move. 
 
 " You knew I loved you? " 
 
 " Yes, I knew it." 
 
 The emotion in her voice, in every delicate con 
 tour of her face, pleaded for mercy. He gave 
 her none, and she bent her head in silence, clasped 
 hands tightening. 
 
 And when at last he had had his say, the burn 
 ing words still rang in her ears through the 
 silence. A curious faintness stole upon her, com 
 ing stealthily like a hateful thing. She strove to 
 put it from her, to listen, to remember and under 
 stand the words he had spoken, but the dull con 
 fusion grew with the sound of the pines. 
 
 " Will you love me? Will you try to love 
 me?" 
 
 " I love you," she said ; " I have loved you so 
 many, many years ; I I am Rosamund " 
 
 She bowed her head and covered her face with 
 both hands. 
 
THE BRIDAL PAIR 
 
 " Rosamund ! Rosamund ! " he breathed, enrap 
 tured. 
 
 She dropped her hands with a little cry; the 
 frightened sweetness of her eyes held back his out 
 stretched arms. " Do not touch me," she whis 
 pered ; " you will not touch me, will you ? not 
 yet not now. Wait till I understand ! " She 
 pressed her hands to her eyes, then again let them 
 fall, staring straight at him. " I loved you so ! " 
 she whispered. " Why did you wait ? " 
 
 " Rosamund ! Rosamund ! " he cried sorrow 
 fully, "what are you saying? I do not under 
 stand; I can understand nothing save that I wor 
 ship you. May I not touch you? touch your 
 hand, Rosamund? I love you so." 
 
 " And I love you. I beg you not to touch 
 me not yet. There is something some reason 
 why 
 
 " Tell me, sweetheart." 
 
 " Do you not know? " 
 
 " By Heaven, I do not ! " he said, troubled and 
 amazed. 
 
 She cast one desperate, unhappy glance at him, 
 then rose to her full height, gazing out over the 
 hazy valleys to where the mountains began, piled 
 up like dim sun-tipped clouds in the north. 
 
 The hill wind stirred her hair and fluttered the 
 145 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 white ribbons at waist and shoulder. The golden- 
 rod swayed in the sunshine. Below, amid yellow 
 treetops, the roofs and chimneys of the village 
 glimmered. 
 
 "Dear, do you not understand?" she said. 
 " How can I make you understand that I love 
 you too late? " 
 
 " Give yourself to me, Rosamund ; let me touch 
 you let me take you " 
 
 " Will you love me always ? " 
 
 " In life, in death, which cannot part us. Will 
 you marry me, Rosamund? " 
 
 She looked straight into his eyes. " Dear, do 
 you not understand? Have you forgotten? I 
 died three years ago to-day." 
 
 The unearthly sweetness of her white face 
 startled him. A terrible light broke in on him; 
 his heart stood still. 
 
 In his dull brain words were sounding his own 
 words, written years ago : " When God takes the 
 mind and leaves the body alive, there grows in it, 
 sometimes, a beauty almost supernatural." 
 
 He had seen it in his practice. A thrill of 
 fright penetrated him, piercing every vein with 
 its chill. He strove to speak; his lips seemed 
 frozen ; he stood there before her, a ghastly smile 
 stamped on his face, and in his heart, terror. 
 146 
 
THE BRIDAL PAIR 
 
 "What do you mean, Rosamund?" he said at 
 last. 
 
 " That I am dead, dear. Did you not under 
 stand that? I I thought you knew it when 
 you first saw me at the cemetery, after all those 
 years since childhood. . . . Did you not know 
 it ? " she asked wistfully. " I must wait for my 
 bridal." 
 
 Misery whitened his face as he raised his head 
 and looked out across the sunlit world. Some 
 thing had smeared and marred the fair earth ; the 
 sun grew gray as he stared. 
 
 Stupefied by the crash, the ruins of life around 
 him, he stood mute, erect, facing the west. 
 
 She whispered, "Do you understand?" 
 
 " Yes," he said ; " we will wed later. You have 
 been ill, dear; but it is all right now and will 
 always be God help us! Love is stronger than 
 all stronger than death." 
 
 " I know it is stronger than death," she said, 
 looking out dreamily over the misty valley. 
 
 He followed her gaze, calmly, serenely review 
 ing all that he must renounce, the happiness of 
 wedlock, children all that a man desires. 
 
 Suddenly instinct stirred, awaking man s only 
 friend hope. A lifetime for the battle! for a 
 cure! Hopeless? He laughed in his excitement. 
 147 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 Despair? when the cure lay almost within his 
 grasp ! the work he had given his life to ! A 
 month more in the laboratory two months 
 three perhaps a year. What of it? It must 
 surely come how could he fail when the work of 
 his life meant all in life for her? 
 
 The light of exaltation slowly faded from his 
 face ; ominous, foreboding thoughts crept in ; fear 
 laid a shaky hand on his head which fell heavily 
 forward on his breast. 
 
 Science and man s cunning and the wisdom of 
 the world! 
 
 " O God," he groaned, " for Him who cured by 
 laying on His hands ! " 
 
 Now that he had learned her name, and that 
 her father was alive, he stood mutely beside her, 
 staring steadily at the chimneys and stately dor- 
 mered roof almost hidden behind the crimson 
 maple foliage across the valley her home. 
 
 She had seated herself once more upon the moss, 
 hands clasped upon one knee, looking out into the 
 west with dreamy eyes. 
 
 " I shall not be long," he said gently. " Will 
 you wait here for me? I will bring your father 
 with me." 
 
 " I will wait for you. But you must come be- 
 148 
 
THE BRIDAL PAIR 
 
 fore the new moon. Will you? I must go when 
 the new moon lies in the west." 
 
 "Go, dearest? Where?" 
 
 " I may not tell you," she sighed, " but you 
 will know very soon very soon now. And there 
 will be no more sorrow, I think," she added 
 timidly. 
 
 " There will be no more sorrow," he repeated 
 quietly. 
 
 " For the former things are passing away," she 
 said. 
 
 He broke a heavy spray of golden-rod and 
 laid it across her knees; she held out a blossom 
 to him a blind gentian, blue as her eyes. He 
 kissed it. 
 
 " Be with me when the new moon comes," she 
 whispered. " It will be so sweet. I will teach 
 you how divine is death, if you will come." 
 
 " You shall teach me the sweetness of life," he 
 said tremulously. 
 
 " Yes life. I did not know you called it by 
 its truest name." 
 
 So he went away, trudging sturdily down the 
 lane, gun glistening on his shoulder. 
 
 Where the lane joins the shadowy village 
 street his dog skulked up to him, sniffing at his 
 heels. 
 
 149 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 A mill whistle was sounding; through the red 
 rays of the setting sun people were passing. 
 Along the row of village shops loungers followed 
 him with vacant eyes. He saw nothing, heard 
 nothing, though a kindly voice called after him, 
 and a young girl smiled at him on her short jour 
 ney through the world. 
 
 The landlord of the Wildwood Inn sat sunning 
 himself in the red evening glow. 
 
 " Well, doctor," he said, " you look tired to 
 death. Eh? What s that you say? " 
 
 The young man repeated his question in a low 
 voice. The landlord shook his head. 
 
 " No, sir. The big house on the hill is empty 
 been empty these three years. No, sir, there ain t 
 no family there now. The old gentleman moved 
 away three years ago." 
 
 " You are mistaken," said the doctor ; " his 
 daughter tells me he lives there." 
 
 "His his daughter?" repeated the landlord. 
 " Why, doctor, she s dead." He turned to his 
 wife, who sat sewing by the open window : " Ain t 
 it three years, Marthy ? " 
 
 " Three years to-day," said the woman, biting 
 off her thread. " She s buried in the family vault 
 over the hill. She was a right pretty little thing, 
 too." 
 
 150 
 
THE BRIDAL PAIR 
 
 " Turned nineteen," mused the landlord, fold 
 ing his newspaper reflectively. 
 
 The great gray house on the hill was closed, 
 windows and doors boarded over, lawn, shrubbery, 
 and hedges tangled with weeds. A few scarlet 
 poppies glimmered above the brown grass. Save 
 for these, and clumps of tall wild phlox, there were 
 no blossoms among the weeds. 
 
 His dog, which had sneaked after him, cowered 
 as he turned northward across the fields. Swifter 
 and swifter he strode ; and as he stumbled on, the 
 long sunset clouds faded, the golden light in the 
 west died out, leaving a calm, clear sky tinged 
 with faintest green. 
 
 Pines hid the west as he crept toward the hill 
 where she awaited him. As he climbed through 
 dusky purple grasses, higher, higher, he saw the 
 new moon s crescent tipping above the hills ; and 
 he crushed back the deathly fright that clutched 
 at him and staggered on. 
 
 "Rosamund!" 
 
 The pines answered him. 
 
 " Rosamund ! " 
 
 The pines replied, answering together. Then 
 the wind died away, and there was no answer when 
 he called. 
 
 11 151 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 East and south the darkening thickets, sway 
 ing, grew still. He saw the slim silver birches 
 glimmering like the ghosts of young trees dead; 
 he saw on the moss at his feet a broken stalk of 
 golden-rod. 
 
 The new moon had drawn a veil across her face ; 
 sky and earth were very still. 
 
 While the moon lasted he lay, eyes open, listen 
 ing, his face pillowed on the moss. It was long 
 after sunrise when his dog came to him ; later still 
 when men came. 
 
 And at first they thought he was asleep. 
 
 152 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 EX CURIA 
 
 AND now, at his attorney s request, and before 
 his report was made, they decided to run through 
 the documents in the case once more, reviewing 
 everything from the very beginning. So young 
 Courtlandt, his attorney, lighted a cigar and un 
 wrapped the pink tape from the bundle of papers. 
 
 There was enough daylight left to read by, for 
 wall and ceiling still bore the faded imprint of 
 the red winter sunset. Edgerton sat before the 
 fire, his well-shaped head buried in his hands ; 
 Courtlandt, lounging on a sofa by the window, 
 unfolded the first paper, puffed thoughtfully at 
 his cigar, and presently began to read without in 
 flection or apparent interest: 
 
 PARIS, December 24, 1902. 
 JOHN EDGERTON, Esq. 
 
 Sir : My client, Michael Innis, is seriously ill, and I 
 am writing you on his behalf and at his urgent so 
 licitation. 
 
 It would appear that, during the panic of 1884, my 
 
 153 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 client came to your father s assistance, at a time when 
 your father s financial ruin, involving also, I believe, 
 the ruin of many of his friends, was apparently only a 
 question of hours. 
 
 It would also appear that, upon your father s death, 
 you wrote Mr. Innis, voluntarily assuming your father s 
 unpaid obligations. (Copy of your letter herewith in 
 closed.) 
 
 It further appears that Mr. Innis, accepting the as 
 surance of your personal gratitude, generously offered 
 to wait for the sums due him, permitting you to pay at 
 your own convenience. (Copy of Mr. Innis s letter in 
 closed herewith.) 
 
 In the conclusion of this last letter (No. 2 on file) Mr. 
 Innis mentions his lifelong respect for your father and 
 his family, humorously drawing the social distinction 
 between the late Winthrop Edgerton, Esq., and Michael 
 Innis, the Tammany contractor; and rather wistfully 
 contrasting the future prospects of Mr. Edgerton s son, 
 yourself, and the chances of the child of Michael Innis. 
 
 To this letter you replied (copy herewith), repeating 
 in a manly fashion your assurance of gratitude, holding 
 yourself at the service of Mr. Innis. 
 
 Now, sir, if your assurances meant more than mere 
 civility, you have an opportunity to erase the deep ob 
 ligations that your father assumed. 
 
 Mr. Innis is a man broken in mind and body. His 
 fortune was invested, against my advice, in Madagascar 
 Railways. To-day he could not realize a thousand dol 
 lars from the investment. 
 
 For twenty years his one absorbing passion has been 
 
 154 
 
EX CURIA 
 
 the education and fitting of his only child for a position 
 in the world which he himself could never hope to at 
 tain. Wealth and education, linked with an agreeable 
 personality, may go anywhere in this century. And 
 his daughter has had the best that Europe can afford. 
 
 Within a month all is changed. Sir, it is sad to see 
 the stricken man lying here, watching his daughter. 
 
 And now, knowing that impending dissolution is 
 near, terror of the future for her has wrung an appeal 
 from him to you a strange appeal, Mr. Edgerton. 
 Money alone is little ; he asks more ; he asks your pro 
 tection for her not the perfunctory protection of a 
 guardian for a ward, but the guidance of a father, the 
 companionship of a brother, the loyalty of a husband. 
 
 The man is blinded by worship of his own child ; 
 your father s son represents to him all that is noblest, 
 most honorable, most desirable in the world. 
 
 Sir, this is a strange request, an overdrawn draft 
 upon your gratitude, I fear. Yet I write you as I am 
 bidden. An answer should be returned by cable with 
 as little delay as possible. He will live until he re 
 ceives it. Marriage by proxy is legal. Special dis 
 pensation is certain. 
 
 I am, sir, with great respect, 
 
 Your very humble servant, 
 
 WILLIAM CAMPBELL. 
 Att y and Counselor at Law, 
 7 rue d Issy. 
 
 When Courtlandt finished reading he folded the 
 letter, glancing across at Edgerton : " That was 
 155 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 written two years ago to-day, you remember? 
 this foreclosure of his mortgage upon your grati 
 tude!" 
 
 " I remember," said Edgerton. 
 
 " From the gratitude of the conscientious, good 
 Lord deliver us ! " murmured Courtlandt, unfold 
 ing another paper. " This is a copy of the asinine 
 cablegram you sent, without consulting me." And 
 he read: 
 
 INNIS, 
 
 23 rue d Abdul Hamid, Paris. 
 
 I assume all responsibility for your daughter s future. 
 Utterly impossible for me to leave New York. If you 
 believe marriage advisable, arrange for special dispensa 
 tion and ceremony by proxy. 
 
 JOHN EDGERTON. 
 
 Courtlandt rose and walked over to the fire 
 where Edgerton was sitting. His client raised his 
 head, eyes a trifle dazed from the pressure of his 
 fingers on the closed lids. 
 
 " What the merry deuce did you send that cable 
 for ? " muttered Courtlandt under his breath. 
 
 " I don t know a debt of gratitude and he 
 did not want it paid in money. I an appeal like 
 that had to be honored, you see. I was ashamed 
 to haggle at the day of reckoning. A man can 
 not appraise his own gratitude." 
 156 
 
EX CURIA 
 
 " Such things cannot be asked of gratitude," 
 growled the attorney. " The business of the 
 world is not run on impulse! What is grati 
 tude?" 
 
 " It is not gratitude if it asks that question," 
 returned Edgerton ; " and I fear that after all it 
 was not exactly gratitude. Gratitude gives; a 
 debt of honor exacts. There is no profit in fol 
 lowing this line further, is there, Billy ? " 
 
 " No," assented Courtlandt, " unless it s going 
 to help us disentangle the unfortunate affair." 
 He unfolded another paper. " It s too dark to 
 read," he observed, leaning forward into the fire 
 light. The red reflection of the coals played over 
 his face and the black-edged notepaper he was 
 scanning. And he read, slowly : 
 
 January 3, 1903. 
 
 DEAR MR. EDGERTON : For your very gentle letter 
 to me I beg to thank you ; I deeply appreciate your 
 delicacy at a time when kindness is most needed. Had 
 you not written as you have, I should have found it 
 difficult to discuss a situation which I am only just be 
 ginning to realize must be as embarrassing to you as it 
 is to me. 
 
 In the grief and distress which overwhelmed me 
 when I was so suddenly summoned from the convent 
 to find my father so ill, I did not, could not realize the 
 step I was asked to take. All I knew was that he de- 
 
 157 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 sired it, begged for it, and it meant to me nothing 
 this ceremony which made you my husband nothing 
 except a little happiness for the father I loved. 
 
 He made the responses for you, I kneeling at his 
 bedside, scarce able to speak in my grief. There were 
 two brief ceremonies, the civil and religious. He died 
 very quietly that night. 
 
 Pray believe me that I understand how impossible it 
 is for you to leave affairs of importance to come to 
 Paris at this time. My aunt, who is with the Ursulines, 
 has received me. It is very quiet, very peaceful ; I 
 have opportunity for meditation, and for studies which 
 I left uncompleted. Mr. Campbell, whom you have so 
 considerately retained for my legal guidance, is kind 
 and tactful. He has, I believe, communicated with 
 you in regard to the most generous provision you have 
 made for me. Pray believe that I require very, very 
 little. I regret the loss of my father s fortune only 
 because it should have perhaps compensated you a 
 trifle for your kindness to my father in his last hours. 
 
 I hesitate I feel the greatest reluctance and deli 
 cacy in addressing you upon a matter that troubles me. 
 It is this, Mr. Edgerton : if, through gratitude to my 
 father for service done your father, you offered to be 
 come responsible for me, perhaps I do not know 
 perhaps, as you have done me the honor of protecting 
 me with your name, it is all that could be expected 
 and I hasten to assure you that I am content. In 
 deed, had I realized, had I even begun to comprehend 
 what I was doing Yet what could I do but obey 
 him at such a time ? 
 
 158 
 
EX CURIA 
 
 So, if you think it well that we remain apart for a 
 while, I am content and happy to obey your wishes. 
 Your name, which I now bear, I honor ; your wishes, 
 monsieur, are my commands. 
 
 With gratitude, confidence, and respect, I remain, 
 Faithfully yours, 
 
 KATHLEEN INNIS EDGERTON. 
 
 Convent of the Ursulines, 
 rue Daumont. 
 
 Courtlandt refolded the letter, and sat rubbing 
 his eyes. " For Heaven s sake let s have a light ! " 
 he grumbled, leaning over and pushing the electric 
 button. 
 
 The light broke out overhead, flooding the 
 library, glistening among gay evergreen wreaths 
 tied with bunches of Christmas holly which hung 
 against the library windows. 
 
 Edgerton raised his pale face, then his head 
 sank on his breast; he folded his arms, gazing 
 absently into the fire. " Go on," he said. 
 
 So Courtlandt read other letters from Mrs. 
 Edgerton, brief notes, perfunctory, reserved, and 
 naive; and he read letters from Campbell, the at 
 torney, acknowledging provisions made for his 
 young client. 
 
 When he finished he refolded all the papers, 
 retied them with pink tape, and laid them on the 
 159 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 table at Edgerton s elbow. " Now," he said, 
 " comes the question. You have arrived at the 
 conclusion that Mrs. Edgerton desires and de 
 serves her freedom. And you want to know what 
 I think." 
 
 " Yes," said Edgerton. 
 
 " You gave me a month to look up the matter." 
 
 " Yes, a month." 
 
 " And now you want me to report, don t you, 
 Jack?" 
 
 Edgerton glanced up. " If you re ready," he 
 said. 
 
 " I m ready. First I want to ask you a ques 
 tion. Is there any woman you have met, before 
 or since your marriage, whom you might fall in 
 love with if you were free to do so ? " 
 
 " No, I believe not I don t know. I am I was 
 not actuated by selfishness." 
 
 " All right. Still, you are capable of loving 
 somebody, are you not ? " 
 
 " I fancy so. I should like to have a chance to 
 marry for love." 
 
 " But you never met the right one ? " 
 
 " There is I have caught a glimpse once 
 one woman " 
 
 "Is that all?" laughed Courtlandt. "That s 
 not enough to bowl you over." 
 160 
 
EX CURIA 
 
 " It was almost enough ! " retorted Edgerton. 
 Through his voice rang an undertone of impa 
 tience. His attorney looked up quickly. 
 
 " Oh, is it as serious as that ? No wonder you 
 want your freedom ! Who is the woman ? " 
 
 " I don t know what you mean," retorted the 
 younger man sullenly. " I told you that I saw 
 a woman once, whom I should like to have 
 had a chance to see again. What of it? I never 
 shall." 
 
 " When was this, Jack? " 
 
 " Yesterday if you want to know." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " Driving in the park." 
 
 "Who is she?" 
 
 " You could answer that question," said Edger 
 ton, wheeling around on his friend. " You were 
 driving with her." 
 
 Courtlandt stared, slowly turning redder and 
 redder. 
 
 " You wanted to know," observed Edgerton, 
 eying him. " It means nothing, of course I 
 was riding along the bridle path and I caught a 
 glimpse of you, and I saw her face. I thought 
 her beautiful, that s all. Drop the subject." 
 
 " Certainly," answered Courtlandt. He opened 
 his match box and relighted his cigar ; then he fell 
 161 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 to musing, breaking the burnt match up into 
 little pieces and tossing the morsels, one by one, 
 into the fire. 
 
 " Jack," he drawled, still busy with the match, 
 " you gave me a month to report upon this mat 
 ter concerning the dissolution of your marriage. 
 It might interest you to learn the first step I 
 took." 
 
 . "What was it?" inquired Edgerton, raising 
 his troubled eyes. 
 
 " I went to Paris." 
 
 " To to see " 
 
 " Certainly, to see Mrs. Edgerton." 
 
 The men s eyes met; the lawyer shrugged his 
 shoulders. 
 
 " Mrs. Edgerton is very inexperienced, very 
 young," he said. " She is, of course, a Catholic. 
 But if she desired her freedom a thousand times 
 as fervently as you might desire yours, the law 
 of her religion bars her way. You knew that of 
 course." 
 
 " I thought sometimes " began the other. 
 
 " You are wrong." 
 
 Edgerton stared into the glowing coals. 
 
 " So you left it to me to see what could be 
 done," added the attorney dryly. 
 
 Edgerton assented. 
 
 162 
 
EX CURIA 
 
 "Well," said Courtlandt, "I shouldn t have 
 accepted such a commission had I not known it 
 was quite unselfish on your part. You told me 
 that her letters to you were pitifully loyal and 
 conscientious; that you felt like a jailer watching 
 an innocent life prisoner; that if you only knew 
 how to do it you would give her the liberty God 
 meant her to enjoy liberty to love and be loved. 
 And you allowed me a month to find the way to 
 settle this wretched affair." 
 
 " Yes. Is there a way? " 
 
 " Only one," replied Courtlandt gravely. He 
 rose, offering his hand. 
 
 Edgerton also rose, tall, clean cut, closely 
 cropped hair just tinged with gray at the temples. 
 
 " Only one way," repeated Courtlandt deliber 
 ately, " and that is for you to discuss the situation 
 with Mrs. Edgerton. 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed Edgerton sharply, drop 
 ping his friend s hand. " You know I can t leave 
 town to go to Paris." 
 
 Courtlandt coolly consulted his watch. " I neg 
 lected to say that Mrs. Edgerton is in town. I 
 believe " he glanced at his watch again, then 
 closed it with a snap " I suggested that she waive 
 ceremony and meet us here." 
 
 "Here!" muttered Edgerton. "Wait a mo- 
 163 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 ment, will you? Do you mean to say that she is 
 coming here to-night ? " 
 
 " Why not ? " said Courtlandt, his gray eyes 
 narrowing. " If she chooses to accept my advice, 
 if she is woman enough to overlook what is due 
 her from her husband, why should she not come 
 here as freely as you come ? " 
 
 " Are you my attorney or hers ? " demanded the 
 other in astonishment. 
 
 " Yours, Jack acting for your interest 
 which is hers, too which must be hers. Where 
 is your sense of honor? Where is your sense of 
 justice? Has the glimpse of a woman s face in 
 the park seared your eyes? Is it true that an 
 indifferent man can be just, but a man in love is 
 a partisan? You could be coldly considerate and 
 deal out passionless justice until yesterday. Now 
 for the first time the fetters gall you. Is this the 
 crisis where you flinch? " 
 
 He stood, jerking on his gloves, scanning Edg- 
 erton s face. 
 
 " I told her that the proper place to discuss the 
 situation was under her own roof ; and I am right. 
 Do you consider a public hotel the suitable en 
 vironment for such a conference? Her pride and 
 intelligence comprehended me. That s all I have 
 to say." 
 
 164 
 
EX CURIA 
 
 " Why did you not tell me before this that she 
 was in town? I understand the requirements of 
 civilization, do I not? " 
 
 " I did not tell you, because we landed only 
 yesterday morning." 
 
 " She came over with you? " 
 
 " On my advice and at my earnest solicita 
 tion." 
 
 Edgerton stared at him, tugging at his short 
 mustache. 
 
 " What are we to discuss ? " he demanded sul 
 lenly. " As she is Catholic we cannot discuss 
 divorce. We could, of course, come to some con 
 clusion concerning a modus vivendi." 
 
 " I expect you to come to some such conclusion. 
 Two years ago you were twenty-eight an over 
 sensitive young man, impulsive, illogical, and mor 
 bid concerning personal obligations. Without 
 consulting your legal adviser you perpetrated a 
 crime for it is criminal to parody the highest 
 safeguard to civilization marriage. It was a 
 crime; your wife is your accomplice particeps 
 criminis, my friend. Neither you nor she deserves 
 mercy." 
 
 He turned away, buttoning his gloves. 
 
 " It s touched your temples with gray," he ob 
 served. " You have learned something at thirty, 
 165 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 Jack, even if it s cost you what you think a 
 mesalliance" 
 
 As he stepped to the door a maid appeared with 
 a card on a salver. Edgerton glanced at it, then 
 looked straight into Courtlandt s eyes. 
 
 " I m sorry I needed this lesson in decency," he 
 said. " It was all right for you to administer it. 
 You need not worry; I understand that I am at 
 my wife s disposal, not she at mine. I ve kept my 
 medicine waiting for two years, that s all." 
 
 " Oh, you re getting on," observed Courtlandt 
 carelessly. " Good night I ve a word to say to 
 Mrs. Edgerton before I go." 
 
 " You mean to stay, don t you ? " began the 
 other, flushing up. " It would be less trying for 
 her " 
 
 But Courtlandt hurried off down the stairs, 
 muttering vaguely of engagements for Christmas 
 Eve, leaving Edgerton staring after him through 
 the dimly lighted hallway. 
 
 He heard Courtlandt enter the drawing-room; 
 he could distinguish the quick, low exchange of 
 greeting; then he went down slowly, steadying 
 himself by the banisters. 
 
 A young girl in furs turned toward him as he 
 entered ; he caught a glimpse of blue eyes, a glint 
 of bright hair framed in fluffy fur; he heard 
 166 
 
EX CURIA 
 
 Courtlandt s cool, easy voice presenting him to 
 his wife; he took the slim gloved hand out 
 stretched, held it stupidly until it was withdrawn ; 
 then Courtlandt s voice again, promising to re 
 turn, and exacting her promise to wait here for 
 him if he should be detained. 
 
 " I m sorry I can t remain and dine with you 
 and Mr. Edgerton on this night before Christ 
 mas," added Courtlandt blandly, making for the 
 door. 
 
 " Oh ! " she said, surprised, " I did not under 
 stand that Mr. Edgerton invited us." 
 
 The color stung Edgerton s face, and he said 
 in a low voice : " You are at home, madam ; it is 
 for you to invite us. Perhaps Mr. Conrtlandt 
 will stay if you ask him ; I will if you ask me." 
 
 She gave him a confused, brilliant little smile, 
 a delicate tint mounting to her cheeks. 
 
 " Thank you," she said ; " you everybody is 
 so delightful to me. Will you stay, Mr. Court 
 landt ? I we beg of you ! No ? Then, until I 
 until we have the pleasure at nine, I believe? " 
 
 From force of habit she turned to the dazed 
 maid, who also instinctively recognized authority, 
 and opened the door which a second later closed 
 upon the most profoundly excited young attorney 
 in Manhattan. 
 
 12 167 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 Mrs. Edgerton raised her blue eyes to her hus 
 band as a maid relieved her of her furs and little 
 gilt-edged tricorne. 
 
 " I I wonder if you are as embarrassed as I 
 am ? " she said, laughing and touching her golden 
 hair with a frank side glance at the mirror. 
 
 " Dreadfully embarrassed," admitted Edgerton, 
 scarcely conscious of what he uttered; oblivious, 
 too, of the usages of civilization until she sank 
 into an armchair with a shy " May I ? " 
 
 " It is for me to ask the privilege," he said, 
 biting his lip. 
 
 " Oh, if you please? " she smiled, with a ges 
 ture toward the chair beside her. 
 
 Seated there with him under the crystal chande 
 lier, she fell silent, meeting his gaze at moments 
 with a questioning smile, partly confident, partly 
 uncertain. 
 
 " I saw you in the park yesterday," he said 
 under his breath, never taking his eyes from her. 
 
 " I saw you, too," she replied quickly. " You 
 rode a bay. I never imagined " she bent her 
 head, thoughtfully studying the arabesques on the 
 rug. " You ride very well," she added. Then, 
 after a moment s silence : " And you remembered 
 me? " 
 
 " I recognized you at once," he said, " the in- 
 168 
 
EX CURIA 
 
 stant I entered this room. It was that which 
 startled me made me appear stupid " 
 
 " You did not appear stupid " 
 
 " I was awkward, dumb " 
 
 "I chattered sufficiently for two. Indeed, I 
 was not at all composed." 
 
 " Did did you recognize me at once? " 
 
 She looked at him, she glanced at the rug, 
 her blue eyes grew vague, lost in retrospective 
 reverie. 
 
 He did not repeat the question, but asked her 
 how long it was since she had been in America. 
 
 "Oh, many years I was only three when my 
 father went to France." Then the warm color 
 came into her face and she clasped her hands im 
 pulsively. " I do not believe," she said, " that I 
 have conveyed to you in letters my deep apprecia 
 tion of your loyalty to me. I I did not know 
 how to express it I do not now. Believe me, 
 monsieur, it does exist ! " 
 
 " What have you to thank me for? " he asked 
 almost brusquely. Then, in a rush of bitterness : 
 " Your sentiments honor yourself, not me, madam. 
 For two years I have been responsible for your 
 happiness. What have I done to secure it? " 
 
 She turned a trifle pale, unprepared for such a 
 question. But she answered very sweetly : " You 
 169 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 left me guarded by the honor of your own name. 
 I have never wanted for anything; I have had the 
 quiet and seclusion I desired. What more is there, 
 Mr. Edgerton?" 
 
 And as he remained silent, she raised her head 
 with a gay little smile : " You could not leave your 
 affairs to come to France; you did not suggest 
 that I come to New York. How could I know 
 that I should " 
 
 "What?" he urged. 
 
 But she closed her red lips, sitting mute, sud 
 denly shy again. 
 
 After a moment she said : " Mais he is absent 
 a long while, Mr. Courtlandt." 
 
 " He isn t coming until nine o clock," said Edg 
 erton. He glanced across at the clock. It was 
 half -past seven. 
 
 " So, in the meanwhile, we are to discuss matters 
 of importance," she suggested seriously. " Mr. 
 Courtlandt said so. What, monsieur, are we to 
 discuss ? " 
 
 " There is absolutely nothing that I know of to 
 discuss," replied Edgerton slowly. 
 
 " Nothing ? " she inquired, wide-eyed and in 
 nocent. 
 
 " Nothing, except your wishes, and they admit 
 of no discussion. You are at home now." 
 
 170 
 
EX CURIA 
 
 " But I but I am staying at the Holland 
 Edgerton touched a button ; a servant appeared. 
 
 " Mrs. Edgerton s luggage is at the Holland," 
 he said quietly. " Telephone for it." 
 
 Mrs. Edgerton half rose from her chair; then, 
 meeting her husband s grave eyes, she sank back, 
 crimson to the temples. 
 
 " We are merely about to exchange quarters," 
 he said pleasantly. " I shall be most comfortable 
 at the Holland." 
 
 " Oh, you shall not ! no, it is all wrong ! " she 
 pleaded, the color fading in her face. " I cannot 
 come into your house into your life " 
 
 " It is your house," he said gently. " Still, if 
 if you don t mind there is a better way still 
 of arranging matters. I have a whole floor on the 
 third story ; and perhaps you might not mind if 
 I retain it. I promise," he added, laughing, " to 
 be a model tenant and not keep coal in my bath 
 tub ! " 
 
 She laughed, too, a little uncertainly. 
 
 " You are so generous so kindly," she said. 
 " How can you endure to have a perfectly silly 
 girl march into your house " 
 
 "Your house!" 
 
 " Your house ! Carry it by assault, capture the 
 nicest suite, and drive you to the roof among the 
 
 171 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 sparrows ! No, it is shameful ! More than that, 
 it is absurd ! " 
 
 " I never have occupied the rooms on the second 
 floor," he protested. " They have been vacant 
 since I took this house." 
 
 "Truly?" 
 
 " Truly. They are too pretty for a man who 
 smokes a pipe all rococo, and furniture with 
 beagle legs, you know." 
 
 " For whom were they intended ? " she asked 
 innocently. 
 
 He reddened. " I bought the house after our 
 wedding," he hesitated ; " then, afterwards, from 
 your letters, I fancied that you might prefer to 
 remain abroad. So I said nothing." 
 
 She bent her head. " I I thought it fairer 
 to you," she said in a low voice. " I would have 
 come had you asked me. I how was I to know, 
 Mr. Edgerton?" 
 
 They sat silent, eyes bent on the floor. Pres 
 ently he went on : " So I had that suite fixed up 
 for you. And I moved upstairs. I am very 
 happy that you are to occupy it." 
 
 " Do you really desire it ? " 
 
 " You have no idea how pretty it is," he urged. 
 
 "Is it so pretty?" 
 
 " Come up and look at it ! " 
 172 
 
EX CURIA 
 
 She sprang to her feet on the impulse, smiling, 
 confident of his kindness. And they mounted the 
 stairs together, sans fapon, arriving on the second 
 floor breathless. 
 
 " Oh," she cried softly, as she entered, " it is 
 perfectly charming ! " She stood a moment, gaz 
 ing around, then with a delightful gesture bade 
 him enter. 
 
 "Is this really mine?" she repeated. "How 
 delicious ! " She passed from room to room, paus 
 ing before bits of furniture that attracted her, 
 touching and lifting the silver on dresser and 
 table. " My own initials ! " she said under her 
 breath. " And what is this ? " laying her white 
 fingers on a jewel case. "Am I to open it? 
 Really! Oh, the beauty of it all! I I am per 
 fectly overwhelmed, mom Mr. Edgerton ! " And 
 she sat down on the edge of the bed, pressing her 
 hands to her eyes. 
 
 A maid came to the door ; the luggage from the 
 Holland had arrived. Presently two burly ex 
 pressmen entered, staggering under the first of a 
 series of trunks. Her maid directed the men; 
 Mrs. Edgerton sat, hands folded, smiling, blue 
 eyes a trifle dim, while her husband, standing be 
 side her, watched the operations. 
 
 The silvery chime of a clock sounded, striking 
 173 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 eight times, and on either side of the dial gilt 
 cupids fluttered their burnished wings. 
 
 " Impossible ! " exclaimed Edgerton. Then 
 with a laugh almost boyish, he said : " We re sup 
 posed to dine at eight." 
 
 She looked vacantly at her husband. " Dinner 
 already ! Can it be possible time has flown like 
 that? And I behold me! Have I time to 
 dress?" 
 
 " Time is yours to dispose of," he said, smiling 
 back into her eyes ; " all here are yours to dispose 
 of as you see fit." 
 
 "Even you, monsieur?" She laughed in her 
 excitement and happiness, not weighing words and 
 their meaning until their echo returned again to 
 appall her while her maid aided her to dress 
 and the echo of his answer, too, rang persistently 
 in her ears : " Yes, to pardon, to dispose of, to 
 command, always, as long as I have life to serve 
 you." 
 
 And now she was ready, smiling nervously back 
 at her own flushed reflection in the mirror a 
 young girl stirred to the soul by kindness, almost 
 intoxicated at a glimpse of her own undreamed 
 of beauty, surprised there in the depths of the 
 mirror. 
 
 The banisters were decorated with twisted ropes 
 174 
 

 "At the foot of the stairs siie . . made him a low reverence. 
 
EX CURIA 
 
 of evergreens ; she descended slowly, cheeks burn 
 ing, eyes fixed steadily on her husband, who stood 
 motionless below to receive her. A tiny light here 
 and there caught the thick tendrils of her heavy 
 burnished hair and glimmered on her smooth, full 
 neck and arms. 
 
 At the foot of the stairs she paused, made him 
 a low reverence, then, gathering her silken -train, 
 she looked fearlessly into his face and laid her 
 hand lightly in his. 
 
 So, moving serenely side by side, they passed 
 under holly and mistletoe and ropes of evergreen, 
 through the long drawing-room, through the 
 music room, slowly, more slowly, until the great 
 velvet hangings barred their way. 
 
 There they paused, turning face to face, her 
 small hand scarcely touching his. 
 
 " Can you forgive me? " he asked under his 
 breath. 
 
 " Forgive you ? " she repeated tremulously ; " I 
 can do more than that. . . . Ask me." 
 
 But there was no time, for the butler, bowing, 
 had drawn the portieres to the full length of the 
 golden cords. 
 
 175 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE GOLDEN POOL 
 
 So the doctor, finding his patient s quarters 
 untenanted for the first time in many months, 
 hastened downstairs and out to the veranda, where 
 he discovered a lean, soldierly looking young fel 
 low clad in fishing coat fussing with rod and reel. 
 
 " Oho, my enterprising friend ! " he said. 
 "What mischief are you hatching now?" 
 
 " I m going to try for your big trout in the 
 Golden Pool," said his patient calmly. 
 
 This unlooked-for energy appeared to embar 
 rass the doctor. His grim mouth tightened. 
 
 " Don t go now," he said ; " it s too late in the 
 morning." 
 
 " I m going anyhow," retorted his patient. 
 
 " Don t be obstinate ; that fish won t rise til] 
 evening." 
 
 " I know it, but I m going." 
 
 " Against my orders ! " demanded the exasper 
 ated doctor. 
 
 " With pleasure," replied the young man gayly. 
 176 
 
THE GOLDEN POOL 
 
 " And it s your own doing, too. Do you remem 
 ber what you said last night? " 
 
 " I said I saw a big fish rising in that pool," 
 growled the doctor. 
 
 " Exactly ; and that has done more to brace me 
 up than all your purple pills for peculiar people." 
 
 " Don t go to the Golden Pool now ! " said the 
 doctor with emphasis. " I have a particular rea 
 son for making this request." 
 
 "What reason?" 
 
 " I won t tell you." 
 
 " You re after that fish yourself ! No, you 
 don t!" 
 
 " That s idiotic." 
 
 " Well, anyhow, good-by." 
 
 " You shan t ! " exclaimed the doctor wrath- 
 f ully. " Give me that rod ! " 
 
 But his patient clung to the rod, laughing. 
 
 " Now what the devil possesses you to make for 
 the Golden Pool at this particular minute ? " de 
 manded the vexed doctor. " You ve been an in 
 valid for a year and more, and up to this moment 
 you ve done what I told you." 
 
 His patient continued to laugh that same 
 light-hearted, infectious laugh which the doctor 
 had not heard in many a month, and he looked at 
 him keenly. 
 
 177 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " All the same, you re not well yet, and you 
 know it," he said. 
 
 " My aversion to women ? " 
 
 " Partly." 
 
 " You mean my memory still fails me ? Well, 
 then, what do you think happened this morning? " 
 
 "What?" inquired the doctor sulkily. 
 
 " This : I went out to the stables and recog 
 nized Phelan and Riley! How s that for a start? 
 Then " he glanced across the lawn where an old 
 gardener pottered about among the petunias 
 " there s Dawson, isn t it? And this is my own 
 place Gleniris! Isn t it? Besides," he added, 
 " my aversion to women is disappearing ; I saw a 
 girl on the lawn from my window this morning. 
 Who is she?" 
 
 " Was she dressed in white? " asked the doctor. 
 
 ** Don t remember." 
 
 " You never before saw her ? " 
 
 " No I don t know. I didn t see her face." 
 
 " So it seems you can t recollect the back of a 
 relative or a neighbor! Now what do you think 
 of yourself? " 
 
 " Relative? Nonsense," he laughed ; " I haven t 
 
 any. As for the neighbors, give me time, for 
 
 Heaven s sake ! I m doing beautifully. There are 
 
 millions of things that set me thinking and worry- 
 
 178 
 
THE GOLDEN POOL 
 
 ing now funny flashes of memory hints of the 
 past, vague glimpses that excite me to effort ; but 
 nothing absolutely nothing yet of that blank 
 year. Was it a year? " 
 
 " More ; never mind that ! " 
 
 "How long was it?" asked his patient wist 
 fully. 
 
 " Sixteen months." 
 
 " You said I was shot, I think." 
 
 " No, I didn t. You think you were, but it was 
 done with a Malay kris. Now, what can you re 
 member about it? " 
 
 The young man stood silent, fumbling with his 
 rod. 
 
 " And you tell me you re cured ! " observed the 
 doctor sarcastically, " and you can t even recollect 
 how you got swiped with a Malay kris ! " 
 
 " 1 might if I could see the Malay or the kris." 
 
 The doctor, who had begun to pace the veranda, 
 halted and glanced sharply at his patient. 
 
 The best way to remember things is to see 
 em? Is that your idea?" 
 
 " I think so. It s true I ve seen Phelan many 
 times without remembering him, but to-day I rec 
 ognized him. Isn t that good medicine? " 
 
 The doctor thought a moment, fished out his 
 watch from the fob pocket, regarded it absently, 
 179 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 and came down the steps to the lawn, where his 
 patient stood making practice casts with his light 
 bamboo rod. 
 
 " I ll tell you why I didn t want you to go to 
 the Golden Pool," he said. 
 
 "Well, why?" 
 
 " Poachers," replied the doctor, watching him. 
 " They fish in the pools, and they use your canoe, 
 and they even have the impudence to go bathing 
 in the Golden Pool. ... I didn t want you to 
 worry." 
 
 " I think the poacher I catch will do the worry 
 ing," said the young man, laughing. " Is that 
 all?" 
 
 " That is all. Go ahead if you want to. If 
 you run across that girl invite her to dinner. 
 She s a friend of mine." And the doctor walked 
 off, shoving his hands deep into his capacious 
 pockets. 
 
 His patient reeled in the line, smiling to him 
 self, and started off across the meadow at a good 
 swinging pace. He entered the forest by the 
 meadow bridge, where a lank yokel was mowing 
 grass. 
 
 " Mornin ! " ventured the native, with a doubt 
 ful grin of recognition. 
 
 " Look here," said the young man, halting in 
 180 
 
THE GOLDEN POOL 
 
 the path of the scythe, " ought I to know your 
 name? Tell me the truth." 
 
 " I cal late yew orter," replied the yokel. " I ve 
 been chorin for yew close tew ten year." 
 
 A shadow fell over the master s lean face, and 
 he went on through the underbrush, muttering to 
 himself, passing his thin hand again and again 
 across his forehead. 
 
 "Oh, well, I ll stick to it," he said aloud; "a 
 man can t dance on a broken leg nor think with a 
 broken head; they ve got to be mended first well 
 mended." 
 
 Walking on through the fragrant forest, the 
 shadow of care slipped from his face again, leav 
 ing it placid once more. The scent of the June 
 woods, the far, dull throbbing of a partridge 
 drumming in leafy depths, the happy sighing of 
 a woodland world astir, all these were gentle stimu 
 lants to that sanity toward the shadowy borders 
 of which he had so long been struggling from the 
 region of dreadful night. 
 
 Spreading branches, dew-spangled, slapped his 
 face as he passed; the moist rich odor of clean 
 earth filled throat and lungs; a subdued, almost 
 breathless expectancy brooded in the wake of the 
 south wind. 
 
 When he emerged from the forest and entered 
 181 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 the long glade, mountain and thicket were swim 
 ming in crystalline light ; ferns hung weighted 
 with dew ; the outrush of bird music was incessant. 
 
 Far in the wet woods he could hear the river 
 flowing or was it the breeze freshening in the 
 pines ? 
 
 Listening, enraptured, boyish recollections 
 awoke, and he instinctively took his bearings from 
 the blue peak in the east. So the Ousel Pool lay to 
 the west. He would fish that uncertain water 
 later; but first the Golden Pool, where the great 
 trout had been seen, rising as recklessly as a min 
 now in a meadow brook. 
 
 Now, all excitement and expectancy, he waded 
 on, knee-deep in drenched grasses, watching the 
 soft mothlike flutter of the bluebirds among the 
 iris. They had always hovered over this spot in 
 June, he remembered now. Truly summer skies 
 were healing him of his hurt; he recognized the 
 belt of blue-beech saplings all crossbarred with 
 sunlight, and he heard the familiar rush of waters 
 below. 
 
 Suddenly, beyond the sprayed undergrowth, he 
 caught a glow of color, a glimpse of that rich 
 sunny foliage which gave the Golden Pool its 
 name ; and now the familiar water lay glimmering 
 before him through the trees, and he began th* 
 182 
 
THE GOLDEN POOL 
 
 descent, stepping quietly as a deer entering a 
 strange covert. 
 
 At the water s edge he paused, cautiously; but 
 there was no canoe lying under the alders. Mem 
 ory halted short, then began groping backward 
 through the years. 
 
 Where was the canoe? There had always been 
 one here in his boyhood and ever since up to 
 that obscured and cloudy space of time 
 
 He dropped to his knees and parted the leafy 
 thicket with his hands. There was no canoe there, 
 nothing except a book lying on a luncheon basket ; 
 and what was this? and this? 
 
 He stared stupidly for a moment, then rose and 
 stepped through the thicket to the edge of the 
 water. A canoe glittered out there, pulled up on 
 a flat, sunny rock in midstream, and upon the rock 
 lay a girl in a dripping bathing dress drying her 
 hair in the sun. 
 
 Instantly an odd sense of it all having happened 
 before seized him the sun on the water, the canoe, 
 the slim figure lying there. And when she indo 
 lently raised her hand, stifling a dainty yawn, and 
 stretched her arms luxuriously, it seemed to him 
 the repetition of a forgotten scene too familiar to 
 surprise him. 
 
 Then, as she sat up, leisurely twisting her sun- 
 13 183 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 bronzed hair, a chance turn of her head brought 
 him into direct line of vision. They stared at one 
 another across the sunny water. 
 
 For one second the thought flashed on him that 
 he knew her ; then in the same moment all that had 
 seemed familiar in the situation faded into strange 
 ness and apprehension, and he was aware that he 
 had never before looked upon her face. 
 
 Yet, curiously enough, his long and melancholy 
 aversion to women had not returned at sight of 
 her. She had risen in surprise, wide dark eyes 
 on him; and he spoke immediately, saying he had 
 not meant to disturb her, and that she was quite 
 welcome to use the canoe. 
 
 Her first stammered words annoyed him. " Did 
 the doctor come with you? Are you are you 
 alone?" 
 
 " I suppose the entire countryside knows I have 
 been ill," he said ; " but I m perfectly able to be 
 about without a doctor." He began to laugh. 
 " But those are not the questions. The questions 
 are what are people doing in these woods with 
 luncheon baskets and summer novels, and how am 
 I to fish this pool if people swim in it; and how 
 am I to fish at all if an attractive stranger takes 
 possession of my canoe? " 
 
 " I I had no idea you were coming here," she 
 184 
 
THE GOLDEN POOL 
 
 faltered. " I bathe here every morning, and then 
 I lunch here and read." 
 
 He laughed outright at her innocent acknowl 
 edgment of the trespass. 
 
 " I have a clear case against you," he said. 
 " Haven t you read all my notices nailed up on 
 trees? * Warning! All trespassers will be dealt 
 with to the full extent of the law and much 
 more to similar effect? And do you know what a 
 very dreadful thing it is to be dealt with to the 
 full extent of the law?" 
 
 " But I am not not trespassing," she said. 
 " Can you not remember ? " 
 
 " I m afraid I can t," he replied, smiling ; " I m 
 afraid I have a clear case against you. The doc 
 tor warned me that trespassers were about." 
 
 " Did he know you were coming here ? " she 
 asked incredulously. 
 
 " He did. And I m afraid somebody has been 
 caught m flagrant delit \ What do you think ? " 
 
 He stood there, amused, curiously noting the 
 play of emotions over her delicate features. Con 
 sternation, dismay, had given place to quick re 
 sentment ; that in turn died out, leaving something 
 of comprehension in her perplexed face. 
 
 " So he sent you to catch a trespasser? " she 
 said. 
 
 185 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " I was coming to fish. Well, yes ; he said I 
 might find one." 
 
 " A trespasser ? A stranger ? " She hesitated ; 
 there was hurt astonishment in her voice. Sud 
 denly her face took a deeper flush, as though 
 she had come to an unexpected decision; her en 
 tire manner changed to serene self-possession. 
 " What are you going to do with me? " she asked 
 curiously. 
 
 " I m afraid I can t put you in jail," he ad 
 mitted. " You see, there s no punishment for 
 swimming in favorite trout pools and spoiling a 
 man s morning sport. Now, if you had only 
 thought of catching one of my trout I could ar 
 range to have you imprisoned." 
 
 " Please arrange it immediately, then," she said, 
 lifting an enormous trout from the canoe and 
 holding it up by the gills with both hands. 
 
 " Good Lord," he gasped, " it s the big one ! " 
 And he sat down suddenly on a log. 
 
 Her smiling defiance softened a trifle. " Did 
 you really wish to catch this fish very much ? " she 
 asked. " I I never supposed you would come 
 here to-day." 
 
 " The enormity of your crime stuns me," he 
 said. " First you invade my domain, then you 
 abstract my canoe, then you swim in my favorite 
 186 
 
THE GOLDEN POOL 
 
 pool, then you catch the biggest fish that ever 
 came out of it." 
 
 " No," she said, " I was not such a goose as to 
 swim first. I caught the fish first." 
 
 " Recount to me the battle," he said with a 
 groan. " Fish like that only rise once in a life 
 time. Tell me how you but that s useless. It 
 was the usual case of a twig and a bent pin, I 
 suppose? " 
 
 She smiled uncertainly, and lifted a rod from 
 the canoe. 
 
 " By Jove, that looks like one of my rods ! " he 
 exclaimed. " Where did you get it ? " 
 
 Her eyes were bright with excitement ; she shook 
 her head, laughing. 
 
 " Are you in league with my doctor? Who are 
 you ? " he insisted. 
 
 " Only a poacher," she admitted. " I creep 
 about and lurk outside windows where doctors talk 
 in loud voices about big trout they have seen. 
 Then I go and catch them." 
 
 They were both laughing now; she standing 
 beside the canoe, rod in hand, he balanced on a 
 rock opposite. 
 
 Yet, even while laughing, his thin face sobered, 
 darkening as though a gray shadow had crept 
 across it. 
 
 187 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " Are you a neighbor of mine? " he asked. " If 
 you are, you will know why I ask it. If you are 
 not, never mind," he added wearily. 
 
 She shook her head. His face cleared. 
 
 " I thought you were not a neighbor ; I was 
 certain that I had never seen you as certain as 
 a man can be awakening from from illness, with 
 his mind his memory shaky almost blank." 
 He bent his head, gazing into the water. Then 
 he looked up. " You know the doctor ? I think 
 I saw you on the lawn this morning." 
 
 " Are you sure you have never before seen me? " 
 she asked, with a ghost of a smile. 
 
 " I thought at first for an instant the canoe 
 on the rock, and the sunshine, and you " He 
 fell silent, groping through the darkened corridors 
 of thought for the key to memory. 
 
 In the sunlit hush a rippling noise sounded far 
 out across the pool; then up out of the glassy 
 water shot a sinuous shape, dark against the sun 
 a fish in silhouette, curving over with a flapping 
 splash. Widening circles spread from a center 
 where a few bubbles floated; the pool became 
 placid once more a mirror for the tapestry of 
 golden thickets set with the heavenly hue above. 
 
 The long-dormant passion which sleeps but 
 never dies awoke in him; the flush on his lean 
 188 
 
THE GOLDEN POOL 
 
 cheeks deepened as he turned and looked across 
 the pool where the pretty intruder stood watching 
 him, an eager question dancing in her eyes. 
 
 " I d like to try," he said. " Do you mind? " 
 
 " Tell me what to do." 
 
 " Paddle very quietly over here very carefully 
 and without a splash. Can you do it ? " 
 
 She loosened the canoe noiselessly, a lithe figure 
 in her wet brown skirt and stockings. The mellow 
 glow enveloped her as she moved into the shadows ; 
 and she seemed, in the soft forest light, part of 
 the woodland harmony, blending with it as tawny- 
 tinted shadows blend. 
 
 The canoe slipped into the pool; she knelt in 
 the stern; then, with one silent push, sent it like 
 an arrow across the water. He caught and stead 
 ied the frail craft ; she stepped from it and sprang 
 without a sound into the green shadows beside him. 
 
 He was muttering to himself : " I ve forgotten 
 some things but not how to throw a fly, I think. 
 Let us see let us see." 
 
 She stood motionless as he embarked, watching 
 him raise his rod and send the tiny brightly 
 colored flies out over the water. The delicate 
 accuracy seemed to fascinate her; her dark eyes 
 followed the long upward loop of the back cast, 
 the whistling flight of the silken line, the instant s 
 189 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 suspense as the leader curved, straightened out, 
 and fell, dropping three flies softly on the still 
 surface of the pool. 
 
 As the canoe drifted nearer, nearer to the spot 
 where the trout had leaped, the sharp dry click of 
 the reel, the windlike whistle of the line, grew 
 fainter. Suddenly, far ahead of the floating flies, 
 a dark lump broke the water ; there came a spatter 
 of spray, a flash of pink and silver, and that was 
 all all, though for two hours the silken line 
 darted out across the water, and many feathered 
 flies of many hues fell vainly across the glassy 
 mirror of the Golden Pool. 
 
 She was still standing in the same place when 
 he returned. He drew a long deep breath of dis 
 appointment as he stepped ashore, and she echoed 
 his sigh. The tension had ended. 
 
 " Showed color, but wouldn t fight," he said in 
 a low voice. " Biggest trout I ever saw." 
 
 " Can t you possibly do something? " she asked 
 tremulously. 
 
 " Not now ; I must rest him. You can t force 
 a fish like that by persistent worry. There s a 
 chance he may come again ; he s not serious yet. 
 I dare not bother him for an hour or two." 
 
 He looked into her sensitive face; then, sud- 
 190 
 
THE GOLDEN POOL 
 
 denly conscious of its youthful beauty, he fell 
 silent, reeling in his wet line inch by inch. 
 
 Through the heated stillness dragon flies 
 darted ; the mounting perfume of brake and fern, 
 the almost imperceptible odor of earth and water, 
 seemed to envelop him in a delicate spell, sooth 
 ing, healing, while pulseless moments drifted away 
 in the smooth flow of a summer hour. 
 
 The rod slipped from his hand ; his musing eyes 
 rested on her. She was seated on a mossy log, 
 head bent, slender stockinged feet trailing in the 
 pool. 
 
 " All this has happened before," he said quietly. 
 But there was no conviction in his voice. 
 
 She raised her dreamy eyes, the color came and 
 went in throat and cheeks; through her half- 
 parted lips the breath scarcely stirred. 
 
 He rose with a restless laugh, and stood a mo 
 ment, his thin hand pressed across his forehead. 
 Her eyes fell, were lifted to his, then fell again. 
 
 " Can t you help me ? " he said wistfully. 
 
 " Can you not remember ? " she breathed. 
 
 " Then we we have known one another. Have 
 we?" 
 
 " I once knew a friend of yours a close friend 
 named Escourt." 
 
 " Escourt," he repeated blankly. 
 191 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 And after a long silence he turned away with 
 a gesture that seemed to frighten her. But into 
 her face came a flash of determination, reddening 
 her cheeks again. 
 
 " It does not matter," she said ; " nothing mat 
 ters on a summer day like this. ... I did not 
 mean to trouble you." 
 
 He turned in his steps and stood looking at her. 
 
 " You say my friend s name was Escourt ? Is 
 my friend dead ? " 
 
 " Please don t let it matter." 
 
 " It does matter. I it is a fancy, perhaps, 
 but the name of Escourt was once familiar and 
 pleasant. It is not your name, is it ? " 
 
 " Yes," she said. 
 
 At last he began fretfully: "That is the 
 strangest thing in the world. I have never before 
 seen you, and yet I am perfectly conscious that 
 your name has haunted me for years. Escourt 
 Escourt ! for years, I tell you," he went on in 
 a sort of impatient astonishment ; " ever since I 
 can remember anything I can remember that 
 name." 
 
 " And my first name? " Flushed, voice scarcely 
 steady, she avoided his troubled gaze. 
 
 And as he did not answer, she said : " You once 
 knew my husband. Can you not remember? " 
 192 
 
THE GOLDEN POOL 
 
 He shook his head, studying her intently. 
 
 " No," he said in a dull voice, " I have forgot 
 ten ; I have been very ill. The name troubles me ; 
 it is strange how the name troubles me." 
 
 " If it troubles you, let us talk of other things, 
 will you ? " she asked, almost timidly. " I did 
 not think to awaken the memory of anything 
 sad." 
 
 " It is not sad," resting his sunken, perplexed 
 eyes on her ; " it is something intimate almost 
 part of my life that I seem to have forgotten " 
 His hand sought the same spot over his right eye. 
 " What were we doing when you interrupted every 
 thing ? " His wandering glance fell on the canoe 
 and the rod lying in the bottom, and his face 
 cleared. 
 
 " I ought to be worrying that trout again," he 
 said. " You won t go away, will you ? " 
 
 " No ; but I wish you would go," she said, laugh 
 ing ; " I d dress if you would give me half an 
 hour." 
 
 "You won t go you will wait?" he repeated 
 almost childishly. 
 
 " Yes, I will wait." 
 
 She shook her head, watching him embark; 
 standing there looking out across the water where 
 the paddle bubbles marked his course long after 
 193 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 the canoe had vanished around the curved shore of 
 the Golden Pool. 
 
 Suddenly her eyes filled; but she set her lips 
 resolutely, groping with white hands for her 
 knotted hair; the heavy shining twist, loosened, 
 fell, veiling face and shoulders a golden mask for 
 sorrow and falling tears. 
 
 It was high noon when his far hail brought her 
 to the water s edge, and she answered with a clear, 
 prettily modulated call. 
 
 " Do you observe? " she asked, as he climbed 
 the bank; and she made a little gesture of invita 
 tion toward a white napkin spread upon the moss. 
 
 A jug of milk, lettuce, bread, and a great bunch 
 of hothouse grapes and a hostess in a summer 
 gown, smiling an invitation ; what wonder that the 
 haggard lines in his visage softened till something 
 of the afterglow of youth lay like a ray of sun 
 across his face. 
 
 66 This is perfectly charming," he said, drop 
 ping to his knees beside her. " I I am very 
 happy that you waited for me." 
 
 She sat silent for a moment, with lowered eyes, 
 then raised them shyly. " Let us eat bread and 
 salt together, will you? that nothing break our 
 friendship." 
 
 194 
 
THE GOLDEN POOL 
 
 " From your hands," he said. 
 
 She leaned over, took a tiny pinch of salt be 
 tween her thumb and forefinger, and offered it to 
 him on a bit of bread. He gravely broke the 
 bread, returned half to her, and they ate, watch 
 ing one another in silence. 
 
 " By the bread and salt I have shared with 
 you," he said, half seriously, half smiling, " I 
 promise to cherish this forest friendship. Let this 
 day begin it." 
 
 " Let it," she said. 
 
 " Let pleasant years continue it. 59 
 
 66 Yes the coming years. So be it. 55 
 
 " Let nothing end it nothing not even " 
 
 " Nothing and, amen," she said faintly. 
 
 Again, unbidden, the ghosts of the past stirred, 
 whispering together within him ; echoes of unquiet 
 days awoke, blind consciousness of that somber 
 year where darkness dwelt, where memory lay 
 slain forever. 
 
 She sat watching him there on the moss, sup 
 porting her weight on one arm. 
 
 " I am striving," he said, " to trace my 
 thoughts." There was dull apology in his voice. 
 " All this is not accident you and I here to 
 gether. I am haunted by something long forgot 
 ten, something that I am almost conscious of. 
 195 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 When your voice sounds I seem to be quivering 
 on the verge of memory. . . . Do you know what 
 it is I have forgotten ? " 
 
 She trembled to her lips. " Have you for 
 gotten?" 
 
 " Yes a great deal. Is it you I have forgot 
 ten?" 
 
 " Try to remember," she said under her breath. 
 
 " Remember ? God knows I am trying. Begin 
 with me, will you ? " 
 
 " Yes ; let us begin together. You were hurt." 
 
 " Yes, I was hurt." 
 
 " In a battle." 
 
 " I was hurt in a skirmish." 
 
 " Where ? " she whispered. 
 
 " Why, on the Subig," he answered, surprised ; 
 " I was in the Philippine scouts." 
 
 He sat bolt upright, electrified, and struck his 
 knee sharply with the flat of his wasted hand. 
 
 " Do you know," he said excitedly, " that until 
 this very instant I have not thought of the Philip 
 pine scouts. Isn t that extraordinary ? " 
 
 She strove to speak; her breast rose and fell, 
 and she closed her lips convulsively. 
 
 He sat there, head drooping, passing his hand 
 repeatedly across the scar over his right temple. 
 
 She waited, whitening under the tension. His 
 196 
 
THE GOLDEN POOL 
 
 face became placid; he looked up at her; and a 
 smile touched her wet lashes in response. 
 
 The contentment of convalescence seemed to 
 banish his restlessness ; her voice broke the silence, 
 and its low, even tones satisfied the half -aroused 
 longing for dead echoes. 
 
 So the ghost of happiness arose and sat between 
 them; and she lay back, resting against a tree, 
 smiling replies to his lazy badinage. And after 
 a long while her laughter awoke to echo his, laugh 
 ter as delicate as the breeze stirring her bright 
 hair. 
 
 And afterward, long afterward, when the sun 
 shine painted orange patches on the westward tree 
 trunks and a haze veiled the taller spires, she re 
 minded him of the great trout; but he would not 
 go without her ; so together they descended to the 
 stream s edge. 
 
 Floating in the canoe there through the mellow 
 light, he remembered that he had left his rod 
 ashore, but would not go back, and she laughed 
 outright, through the thread of the song she had 
 been humming: 
 
 " Fate is a dragon, 
 
 Faith the slim shape that braves it : 
 Hope holds the stirrup-cup 
 Drain it who craves it . " 
 
 197 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 She smiled, singing carelessly: 
 
 " Who art thou, young and brave ? 
 
 La vie est un sommeil ; V amour en est le reve ! " 
 
 " There is more," he said, watching her intently. 
 " How do you know ? " 
 
 " I know that song. / remember it, and there 
 is more to it! " 
 
 " Is it this, then ? " and she sang again : 
 
 " Life is but slumber, 
 
 Love the sad dream that haunts it, 
 Death is thy waking gift ; 
 Take it who wants it ! 
 
 tc Who art thou, young and brave ? 
 La vie est un sommeil ; I amour en est le reve ! " 
 
 He sat for a long while, very still, head buried 
 in his hands. A violet mist veiled water and 
 trees ; through it the setting sun sent fiery shafts 
 through the mountain cleft. And when the last 
 crimson shaft was sped and tree and water faded 
 into darker harmony, the canoe had drifted far 
 downstream, and now lay still in the shoreward 
 sands; and they stood together on the water s 
 edge. 
 
 Her fingers had become interlocked with his ; 
 she half withdrew them, eyes lowered. 
 198 
 
THE GOLDEN POOL 
 
 " It is strange that our names should be the 
 same," he said. 
 
 "Is your name Escourt, too?" she faltered. 
 
 " Yes ; I know it now. ... I have been ill 
 very ill. God alone knows what my hurt has done 
 to me. There is a doctor at the house; he s been 
 with me for a long time a long time. I I won 
 der why? I wonder if it was because I had for 
 gotten even my own name. . . . Who are you 
 who bear my name ? " 
 
 She swayed almost imperceptibly where she 
 stood; he lifted both her hands and laid them 
 against his lips, looking deep into her eyes. 
 
 " Who are you, bearing my name ? " he whis 
 pered. " Unclose your eyes." 
 
 In the twilight her dark eyes opened ; she was in 
 his arms now, her head fallen a little backward, 
 yielding to his embrace crushing her. 
 
 " Try try to remember before you kiss me," 
 she breathed. " I wish you to love me I desire 
 it but not like this. Oh, try to remember before 
 before it is too late ! " 
 
 " I do remember ! Helen ! Helen ! " 
 
 Her lips on his stifled the cry; a long sigh, a 
 sob, and she lay quivering in her husband s arms. 
 
 14 199 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 OUT OF THE DEPTHS 
 
 DUST and wind had subsided; there seemed to 
 be a hint of rain in the starless west. 
 
 Because the August evening had become op 
 pressive, the club windows stood wide open as 
 though gaping for the outer air. Rugs and cur 
 tains had been removed; an incandescent light or 
 two accentuated the emptiness of the rooms ; here 
 and there shadowy servants prowled, gilt buttons 
 sparkling through the obscurity, their footsteps 
 on the bare floor intensifying the heavy quiet. 
 
 Into this week s-end void wandered young Shan 
 non, drifting aimlessly from library to corridor, 
 finally entering the long room where the portraits 
 of dead governors smirked through the windows 
 at the deserted avenue. 
 
 As his steps echoed on the rugless floor, a 
 shadowy something detached itself from the depths 
 of a padded armchair by the corner window, and 
 a voice he recognized greeted him by name. 
 200 
 
OUT OF THE DEPTHS 
 
 " You here, Harrod ! " he exclaimed. " Thought 
 you were at Bar Harbor." 
 
 " I was. I had business in town." 
 
 " Do you stay here long? " 
 
 " Not long," said Harrod slowly. 
 
 Shannon dropped into a chair with a yawn 
 which ended in a groan. 
 
 " Of all God-forsaken places," he began, " a 
 New York club in August." 
 
 Harrod touched an electric button, but no serv 
 ant answered the call; and presently Shannon, 
 sprawling in his chair, jabbed the button with the 
 ferrule of his walking stick, and a servant took 
 the order, repeating as though he had not under 
 stood: "Did you say two, sir?" 
 
 " With olives, dry," nodded Shannon irritably. 
 They sat there in silence until the tinkle of ice 
 aroused them, and 
 
 " Double luck to you," muttered Shannon ; then, 
 with a scarcely audible sigh : " Bring two more 
 and bring a dinner card." And, turning to the 
 older man: "You re dining, Harrod?" 
 
 " If you like." 
 
 A servant came and turned on an electric jet; 
 Shannon scanned the card under the pale radi 
 ance, scribbled on the pad, and handed it to the 
 servant. 
 
 201 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " Did you put down my name ? " asked Harrod 
 curiously. 
 
 " No ; you ll dine with me if you don t mind." 
 
 " I don t mind for this last time." 
 
 " Going away again ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Shannon signed the blank and glanced up at his 
 friend. " Are you well ? " he asked abruptly. 
 
 Harrod, lying deep in his leather chair, nodded. 
 
 " Oh, you re rather white around the gills 1 
 We ll have another." 
 
 " I thought you had cut that out, Shannon." 
 
 "Cut what out?" 
 
 " Drinking." 
 
 " Well, I haven t," said Shannon sulkily, lift 
 ing his glass and throwing one knee over the 
 other. 
 
 " The last time I saw you, you said you would 
 cut it," observed Harrod. 
 
 "Well, what of it?" 
 
 "But you haven t?" 
 
 " No, my friend." 
 
 "Can t you stop?" 
 
 " I could now. To-morrow I don t know ; 
 but I know well enough I couldn t day after to 
 morrow. And day after to-morrow I shall not 
 
 202 
 
OUT OF THE DEPTHS 
 
 A short silence and Harrod said : " That s why 
 I came back here." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " To stop you." 
 
 Shannon regarded him in sullen amazement. 
 
 A servant announcing dinner brought them to 
 their feet; together they walked out into the 
 empty dining room and seated themselves by an 
 open window. 
 
 Presently Shannon looked up with an impatient 
 laugh. 
 
 " For Heaven s sake let s be cheerful, Harrod. 
 If you knew how the damned town had got on my 
 nerves." 
 
 " That s what I came back for, too," said Har 
 rod with his strange white smile. " I knew the 
 world was fighting you to the ropes." 
 
 " It is ; here I stay on, day after day, on the 
 faint chance of something doing." He shrugged 
 his shoulders. " Business is worse than dead ; I 
 can t hold on much longer. You re right; the 
 world has hammered me to the ropes, and it will 
 be down and out for me unless " 
 
 " Unless you can borrow on your own terms? " 
 
 " Yes, but I can t." 
 
 " You are mistaken." 
 
 " Mistaken? Who will " 
 
 203 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " I will." 
 
 " You ! Why, man, do you know how much I 
 need? Do you know for how long I shall need 
 it? Do you know what the chances are of my 
 making good? You! Why, Harrod, I d swamp 
 you! You can t afford " 
 
 " I can afford anything now." 
 
 Shannon stared. " You have struck some 
 thing?" 
 
 " Something that puts me beyond want." He 
 fumbled in his breast pocket, drew out a portfolio, 
 and from the flat leather case he produced a num 
 bered check bearing his signature, but not filled 
 out. 
 
 " Tell them to bring pen and ink," he said. 
 
 Shannon, perplexed, signed to a waiter. When 
 the ink was brought, Harrod motioned Shannon 
 to take the pen. " Before I went to Bar Harbor," 
 he said, " I had a certain sum " He hesitated, 
 mentioned the sum in a low voice, and asked Shan 
 non to fill in the check for that amount. " Now 
 blot it, pocket it, and use it," he added listlessly, 
 looking out into the lamp-lighted street. 
 
 Shannon, whiter than his friend, stared at the 
 bit of perforated yellow paper. 
 
 " I can t take it," he stammered ; " my security 
 
 is rotten, I tell you " 
 
 204 
 
OUT OF THE DEPTHS 
 
 " I want no security ; I I am beyond want," 
 said Harrod. " Take it ; I came back here for 
 this partly for this." 
 
 " Came back here to to help me ! " 
 
 " To help you. Shannon, I had been a lonely 
 man in life; I think you never realized how much 
 your friendship has been to me. I had nobody 
 no intimacies. You never understood you with 
 all your friends that I cared more for our 
 casual companionship than for anything in the 
 world." 
 
 Shannon bent his head. " I did not know it," 
 he said. 
 
 Harrod raised his eyes and looked up at the 
 starless sky; Shannon ate in silence; into his 
 young face, already marred by dissipation, a 
 strange light had come. And little by little order 
 began to emerge from his whirling senses ; he saw 
 across an abyss a bridge glittering, and beyond 
 that, beckoning to him through a white glory, all 
 that his heart desired. 
 
 " I was at the ropes," he muttered ; " how could 
 you know it, Harrod? I I never whined " 
 
 " I know more than I did yesterday," said 
 Harrod, resting his pale face on one thin hand. 
 
 Shannon, nerves on edge, all aquiver, the blood 
 racing through every vein, began to speak ex- 
 205 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 citedly : " It s like a dream one of the blessed 
 sort Harrod! Harrod! the dreams I ve had 
 this last year ! And I try I try to understand 
 what has happened what you have done for me. 
 I can t I m shaking all over, and I suppose I m 
 sitting here eating and drinking, but- 
 
 He touched his glass blindly ; it tipped and 
 crashed to the floor, the breaking froth of the 
 wine hissing on the cloth. 
 
 " Harrod ! Harrod ! What sort of a man am 
 I to deserve this of you? What can I do " 
 
 " Keep your nerve for one thing." 
 
 " I will ! you mean that \ " touching the stem 
 of the new glass, which the waiter had brought 
 and was filling. He struck the glass till it rang 
 out a clear, thrilling, crystalline note, then struck 
 it more sharply. It splintered with a soft splash 
 ing crash. " Is that all? " he laughed. 
 
 " No, not all." 
 
 " What more will you let me do? " 
 
 " One thing more. Tell them to serve coffee 
 below." 
 
 So they passed out of the dining room, through 
 the deserted corridors, and descended the stairway 
 to the lounging room. It was unlighted and 
 empty; Shannon stepped back and the elder man 
 passed him and took the corner chair by the win- 
 206 
 
OUT OF THE DEPTHS 
 
 dow the same seat where Shannon had first seen 
 him sitting ten years before, and where he always 
 looked to find him after the ending of a business 
 day. And continuing his thoughts, the younger 
 man spoke aloud impulsively : " I remember per 
 fectly well how we met. Do you? You had just 
 come back to town from Bar Harbor, and I saw 
 you stroll in and seat yourself in that corner, 
 and, because I was sitting next you, you asked 
 if you might include me in your order do you 
 remember? " 
 
 " Yes, I remember." 
 
 " And I told you I was a new member here, and 
 you pointed out the portraits of all those dead 
 governors of the club, and told me what good fel 
 lows they had been. I found out later that you 
 yourself were a governor of the club." 
 
 Yes I was." 
 
 Harrod s shadowy face swerved toward the win 
 dow, his eyes resting on the familiar avenue, empty 
 now save for the policeman opposite, and the 
 ragged children of the poor. In August the high 
 tide from the slums washes Fifth Avenue, strand 
 ing a gasping flotsam at the thresholds of the 
 absent. 
 
 " And I remember, too, what you told me," con 
 tinued Shannon. 
 
 207 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 "What?" said Harrod, turning noiselessly to 
 confront his friend. 
 
 " About that child. Do you remember ? That 
 beautiful child you saw? Don t you remember 
 that you told me how she used to leave her gov 
 erness and talk to you on the rocks " 
 
 " Yes," said Harrod. " That , too, is why I 
 came back here to tell you the rest. For the evil 
 days have come to her, Shannon, and the years 
 draw nigh. Listen to me." 
 
 There was a silence; Shannon, mute and per 
 plexed, set his coffee on the window sill and leaned 
 back, flicking the ashes from his cigar ; Harrod 
 passed his hands slowly over his hollow temples: 
 " Her parents are dead ; she is not yet twenty ; she 
 is not equipped to support herself in life ; and 
 she is beautiful. What chance has she, Shannon ? " 
 
 The other was silent. 
 
 "What chance?" repeated Harrod. "And, 
 when I tell you that she is unsuspicious, and that 
 she reasons only with her heart, answer me what 
 chance has she with a man? For you know men, 
 and so do I, Shannon, so do I." 
 
 "Who is she, Harrod?" 
 
 " The victim of divorced parents awarded to 
 her mother. Let her parents answer ; they are 
 answering now, Shannon. But their plea is no 
 208 
 
OUT OF THE DEPTHS 
 
 concern of yours. What concerns you is the liv 
 ing. The child, grown to womanhood, is here, 
 advertising for employment here in New York, 
 asking for a chance. What chance has she? " 
 
 " When did you learn this ? " asked Shannon 
 soberly. 
 
 " I learned it to-night everything concerning 
 her to-night an hour before I I met you. 
 That is why I returned. Shannon, listen to me 
 attentively ; listen to every word I say. Do you 
 remember a passing fancy you had this spring for 
 a blue-eyed girl you met every morning on your 
 way downtown? Do you remember that, as the 
 days went on, little by little she came to return 
 your glance? then your smile? then, at last, 
 your greeting? And do you remember, once, that 
 you told me about it in a moment of depression 
 told me that you were close to infatuation, that 
 you believed her to be everything sweet and in 
 nocent, that you dared not drift any farther, 
 knowing the chances and knowing the end bit 
 ter unhappiness either way, whether in guilt or 
 innocence " 
 
 " I remember," said Shannon hoarsely. " But 
 that is not cannot be " 
 
 " That is the girl." 
 
 " Not the child you told me of " 
 
 209 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " How when did you know " 
 
 " To-night. I know more than that, Shannon. 
 You will learn it later. Now ask me again, what 
 it is that you may do." 
 
 " I ask it," said Shannon under his breath. 
 "What am I to do?" 
 
 For a long while Harrod sat silent, staring out 
 of the dark window ; then, " It is time for us 
 to go." 
 
 "You wish to go out?" 
 
 " Yes ; we will walk together for a little while 
 as we did in the old days, Shannon only a little 
 while, for I must be going back." 
 
 " Where are you going, Harrod? " 
 
 But the elder man had already risen and moved 
 toward the door; and Shannon picked up his hat 
 and followed him out across the dusky lamp- 
 lighted street. 
 
 Into the avenue they passed under the white, 
 unsteady radiance of arc lights which drooped like 
 huge lilies from stalks of bronze; here and there 
 the front of some hotel lifted like a cliff, its win 
 dow-pierced fa9ade pulsating with yellow light, or 
 a white marble mass, cold and burned out, spread 
 a sea of shadow over the glimmering asphalt. At 
 times the lighted lamps of cabs flashed in their 
 210 
 
OUT OF THE DEPTHS 
 
 faces ; at times figures passed like spectres ; but 
 into the street where they were now turning were 
 neither lamps nor people nor sound, nor any light, 
 save, far in the obscure vista, a dull hint of light 
 ning edging the west. 
 
 Twice Shannon had stopped, peering at Har- 
 rod, who neither halted nor slackened his steady, 
 noiseless pace; and the younger man, hesitating, 
 moved on again, quickening his steps to his 
 friend s side. 
 
 "Where are are you going?" 
 
 " Do you not know? " 
 
 The color died out of Shannon s face ; he spoke 
 again, forming his words slowly with dry lips: 
 
 " Harrod, why why do you come into this 
 street to-night? What do you know? How do 
 you know? I tell you I I cannot endure this 
 this tension 
 
 " She is enduring it." 
 
 "Good God!" 
 
 " Yes, God is good," said Harrod, turning his 
 haggard face as they halted. " Answer me, Shan 
 non, where are we going? " 
 
 " To her. You know it ! Harrod ! Harrod ! 
 
 How did you know? I I did not know myself 
 
 until an hour before I met you ; I had not seen her 
 
 in weeks I had not dared to for all trust in self 
 
 211 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 was dead. To-day, downtown, I faced the crash 
 and saw across to-morrow the end of all. Then, 
 in my journey hellward to-night, just at dusk, we 
 passed each other, and before I understood what 
 I had done we were side by side. And almost in 
 stantly I don t know how she seemed to sense 
 the ruin before us both for mine was heavy on 
 my soul, Harrod, as I stood, measuring damnation 
 with smiling eyes at the brink of it, there. And 
 she knew I was adrift at last." 
 
 He looked up at the house before him. " I said 
 I would come. She neither assented nor denied 
 me, nor asked a question. But in her eyes, Har 
 rod, I saw what one sees in the eyes of children, 
 and it stunned me. . . . What shall I do ? " 
 
 " Go to her and look again," said Harrod. 
 " That is what I have come back to ask of you. 
 Good-by." 
 
 He turned, his shadowy face drooping, and 
 Shannon followed to the avenue. There, in the 
 white outbreak of electric lamps, he saw Harrod 
 again as he had always known him, a hint of a 
 smile in his worn eyes, the well-shaped mouth 
 edged with laughter, and he was saying : " It s all 
 in a lifetime, Shannon and more than you sus 
 pect much more. You have not told me her 
 name yet? " 
 
 212 
 
OUT OF THE DEPTHS 
 
 " I do not know it." 
 
 " Ah, she will tell you if you ask ! Say to her 
 that I remember her there on the sea rocks. Say 
 to her that I have searched for her always, but 
 that it was only to-night I knew what to-morrow 
 she shall know and you, Shannon, you, too, shall 
 know. Good-by." 
 
 " Harrod ! wait. Don t don t go " 
 
 He turned and looked back at the younger man 
 with that familiar gesture he knew so well. 
 
 It was final, and Shannon swung blindly on his 
 heel and entered the street again, eyes raised to 
 the high lighted window under which he had halted 
 a moment before. Then he mounted the steps, 
 groped in the vestibule for the illuminated num 
 ber, and touched the electric knob. The door 
 swung open noiselessly as he entered, closing be 
 hind him with a soft click. 
 
 Up he sped, mounting stair on stair, threading 
 the narrow hallways, then upward again, until of 
 a sudden she stood confronting him, bent forward, 
 white hands tightening on the banisters. 
 
 Neither spoke. She straightened slowly, fingers 
 relaxing from the polished rail. Over her shoul 
 ders he saw a lamplighted room, and she turned 
 and looked backward at the threshold and covered 
 her face with both hands. 
 213 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 "What is H?" he whispered, bending close to 
 her. "Why do you tremble? You need not. 
 There is nothing in all the world you need fear. 
 Look into my eyes. Even a child may read them 
 now." 
 
 Her hands fell from her face and their eyes 
 met, and what she read in his, and he in hers, God 
 knows, for she swayed where she stood, lids clos 
 ing ; yielding hands and lips and throat and hair. 
 She cried, too, later, her hands on his shoulders 
 where he knelt beside her, holding him at arm s 
 length from her fresh young face to search his 
 for the menace she once had read there. But 
 it was gone that menace she had read and 
 vaguely understood, and she cried a little more, 
 one arm around his head pressed close to her 
 side. 
 
 " From the very first the first moment I saw 
 you," he said under his breath, answering the 
 question aquiver on her lips lips divinely merci 
 ful, repeating the lovers creed and the confession 
 of faith for which, perhaps, all souls in love are 
 shriven in the end. 
 
 "Naida! Naida!" for he had learned her 
 
 name and could not have enough of it " all that 
 
 the world holds for me of good is here, circled 
 
 by my arms. Not mine the manhood to win 
 
 214 
 
OUT OF THE DEPTHS 
 
 out, alone but there is a man who came to me 
 to-night and stood sponsor for the falling soul 
 within me. 
 
 " How he knew my peril and yours, God knows. 
 But he came like Fate and held his buckler before 
 me, and he led me here and set a flaming sword 
 before your door the door of the child he loved 
 there on the sea rocks ten years ago. Do you 
 remember? He said you would. And he is no 
 archangel this man among men, this friend with 
 whom, unknowing, I have this night wrestled face 
 to face. His name is Harrod." 
 
 " My name ! " She stood up straight and 
 pale, within the circle of his arms ; he rose, too, 
 speechless, uncertain then faced her, white and 
 appalled. 
 
 She said : " He he followed us to Bar Harbor. 
 I was a child, I remember. I hid from my gov 
 erness and talked with him on the rocks. Then 
 we went away. I I lost my father." Staring at 
 her, his stiffening lips formed a word, but no 
 sound came. 
 
 " Bring him to me ! " she whispered. " How 
 can he know I am here and stay away! Does he 
 think I have forgotten? Does he think shame of 
 me? Bring him to me!" 
 
 She caught his hands in hers and kissed them 
 is 215 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 passionately ; she framed his face in her small 
 hands of a child and looked deep, deep into his 
 eyes : " Oh, the happiness you have brought ! I 
 love you ! You with whom I am to enter Paradise ! 
 Now bring him to me ! " 
 
 Shaking, amazed, stunned in a whirl of happi 
 ness and doubt, he crept down the black stairway, 
 feeling his way. The doors swung noiselessly ; he 
 was almost running when he turned into the ave 
 nue. The trail of white lights starred his path; 
 the solitary street echoed his haste, and now he 
 sprang into the wide doorway of the club, and as 
 he passed, the desk clerk leaned forward, handing 
 him a telegram. He took it, halted, breathing 
 heavily, and asked for his friend. 
 
 "Mr. Harrod?" repeated the clerk. "Mr. 
 Harrod has not been here in a month, sir." 
 
 "What? I dined with Mr. Harrod here at 
 eight o clock ! " he laughed. 
 
 " Sir? I I beg your pardon, sir, but you 
 dined here alone to-night " 
 
 " Send for the steward ! " broke in Shannon im 
 patiently, slapping his open palm with the yellow 
 envelope. The steward came, followed by the but 
 ler, and to a quick question from the desk clerk, 
 replied : " Mr. Harrod has not been in the club 
 for six weeks." 
 
 216 
 
OUT OF THE DEPTHS 
 
 " But I dined with Mr. Harrod at eight ! Wil- 
 kins, did you not serve us ? " 
 
 " I served you, sir ; you dined alone " The 
 butler hesitated, coughed discreetly; and the 
 steward added : " You ordered for two, sir " 
 
 Something in the steward s troubled face si 
 lenced Shannon ; the butler ventured : " Beg par 
 don, sir, but we the waiters thought you might 
 be ill, seeing how you talked to yourself and 
 called for ink to write upon the cloth and broke 
 two glasses, laughing like " 
 
 Shannon staggered, turning a ghastly visage 
 from one to another. Then his dazed gaze cen 
 tered upon the telegram crushed in his hand, and 
 shaking from head to foot, he smoothed it out 
 and opened the envelope. 
 
 But it was purely a matter of business ; he was 
 requested to come to Bar Harbor and identify a 
 useless check, drawn to his order, and perhaps aid 
 to identify the body of a drowned man in the 
 morgue. 
 
 217 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE SWASTIKA 
 
 THIS is rather a curious story not nearly as 
 artistic as if it were fiction. Fact seldom is ar 
 tistic. 
 
 One thing is certain : Hildreth had never before 
 heard of a swastika ; he had heard of Judge Grey, 
 one of the Mixed Tribunal, and he knew that the 
 Sarna came from that magistrate as a wedding 
 gift to his father ; but he never for one moment 
 connected anything that ever happened in the Ori 
 ent with his stenographer and private secretary. 
 Nor did he suspect but this story is running away 
 from me backward. 
 
 Reclining in his uncle s emblazoned armchair, 
 the tips of his fingers joined, young Hildreth 
 gazed meditatively at the ceiling through the 
 drifting haze of his cigar. On the ceiling several 
 delicately tinted Cupids were attempting to as 
 phyxiate one another with piles of roses. The 
 room and its furniture also were gayly ornamental 
 218 
 
THE SWASTIKA 
 
 after the style popularly imputed to Louis XIV, 
 that monarch being in no condition to deny the 
 accusation. There was a view through one door 
 into a rococo library, through another into a break 
 fast room, and through the windows into a snow 
 storm at Thirtieth Street and Fifth Avenue. 
 However, the ensemble did not appear illogical if 
 you turned your back to the window; besides, 
 there was the stenographer to look at. But Hil- 
 dreth was gazing fixedly at the ceiling through 
 the stratified mist from his cigar. 
 
 The youthful stenographer, dimpled chin on 
 hand, drummed softly with her pencil tip and 
 watched him sidewise out of two very beautiful 
 eyes. Her cuffs were as immaculate as her cool, 
 white skin; her head, with its thick, bright hair, 
 harmonized with other pretty things ; and I do not 
 think that Louis XIV would have repudiated her, 
 at any rate. 
 
 Hildreth blew ring after ring of smoke at the 
 ceiling, passing his hand, at intervals, through his 
 hair, which was rather short and inclined to curl. 
 
 " Miss Grey," he said, " can t you think of any 
 thing else that rhymes with tin ? " 
 
 " Gin, din, thin," suggested the stenographer, 
 referring to a rhyming dictionary. 
 
 " We ve used din and thin already in the 
 219 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 second verse; don t you remember? And we can t 
 use gin in any combination whatever ; I ve tried 
 it. Isn t there anything else you can think of? " 
 
 " Sin ? " she inquired demurely. 
 
 " 4 Sin," he repeated. " Sin sounds inter 
 esting. We need something to flavor the poem. 
 Do you believe that you and I could make any 
 proper use of sin ? " 
 
 She appeared doubtful. 
 
 " Let us see, anyway. Read what you ve taken," 
 he said, composing himself to listen to his own lines 
 with the modest resignation of the true poet. 
 
 And the girl sorted her notes and read softly: 
 
 " Behold them packed so snug within 
 Their air-tight box of shining tin 
 Hildreth s Honey Wafers ! 
 
 " Ready for breakfast, lunch or din- 
 Ner ; crisp and fresh and sweet and thin 
 Hildreth s Honey Wafers ! " 
 
 She raised her blue eyes, looking at him inquir 
 ingly over the penciled sheets of manuscript. 
 
 " There ought to be another verse," he mused. 
 " Don t you think so? " 
 
 " I think two verses of this kind are sufficient, 
 Mr. Hildreth." 
 
 " You are mistaken ; the poem is still incomplete. 
 220 
 
THE SWASTIKA 
 
 The first verse, you see, is an impression a sort 
 of word-picture of the tin box a kind of prologue 
 to prepare people for what is inside the box in the 
 second verse. In the second I explain that Hil- 
 dreth s Honey Wafers are all ready to eat, and I 
 excite people s appetites. Now, the third verse 
 must gratify them. Don t you see?" 
 
 " Is it not good advertising to break off 
 abruptly and leave the public hungry ? " 
 
 " No ; that s only good literature ; but in ad 
 vertising you must not leave your public discon 
 tented. People like to look at pictures of other 
 people who are enjoying something to repletion 
 pitching into a generous trough of breakfast food, 
 or pausing to savor the delicious after-effects of 
 a nerve tonic. Besides," he added moodily, puff 
 ing his cigar, " my uncle requires three verses, 
 and that settles it. What was that rhyme you 
 suggested ? " 
 
 " I I ventured to suggest sin. 
 
 " Sin, " he repeated thoughtfully, pinching 
 his chin and staring at the snowy roofs across 
 Thirtieth Street. " Well, how would this do for 
 the third verse? 
 
 " They invigorate the hair and clear the skin, 
 And promote happiness in this world of sin 
 Hildreth s Honey Wa 
 221 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " But you have the meter all wrong again," 
 she expostulated. " You never pay any attention 
 to the meter." 
 
 " Oh, you can fix that as you fixed the other 
 verses ! " 
 
 " Besides, is it really true that Hildreth s 
 Honey Wafers do all those things ? " 
 
 He began an elaborate argument to prove that 
 falling hair and poor complexion were caused by 
 improper nourishment, and that the wafers were 
 proper nourishment ; but presently his voice dwin 
 dled to a grumble. He relighted his cigar, looking 
 at her askance. 
 
 " We might say," he resumed, " using poetic 
 license : 
 
 " Into this world of crime and sin 
 Like an angel above was wafted the box of tin ; 
 Hildreth s Ho 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "Why not?" he asked. 
 
 " You can t compare a tin box to an angel 
 above and you can t waft a tin box, you 
 know " 
 
 " Yes, I can. Poets license " 
 
 " That is one of the troubles with your verses, 
 Mr. Hildreth there is so much license and so little 
 
 so little " 
 
 222 
 
THE SWASTIKA 
 
 " You are rather rough on me," he said, color 
 ing up. 
 
 " I don t mean to be ; I only try to help you." 
 
 " I know it ; you are very kind very amiable. 
 I am perfectly aware that a stenographer s duties 
 do not include literary criticism. I ought to be 
 ashamed to ask your aid, but if I don t have it 
 I m done for." 
 
 " But I give it most freely, Mr. Hildreth." 
 
 " I know you do, and I m also aware that I am 
 imposing on you most shamefully. After this 
 week we ll let my verses go as I compose them. It 
 will probably put me out of business, but I can t 
 help that." 
 
 " Mr. Hildreth, we simply cannot let your verses 
 go unedited." 
 
 He looked at her for a moment in silence. 
 " Can t you stand my verses ? " he inquired. And, 
 as she made no reply : " If you can t if they are 
 really as bad as that, why, the public is going to 
 recoil, too, and I ll doubtless ruin the business for 
 my uncle. He has no more idea of good poetry 
 than I have. I ll ruin him ; and our rivals, The 
 Bunsen s Baby Biscuit Company, will call me 
 blessed!" 
 
 " Your uncle writes you that he likes the adver 
 tising verses you send him," she interrupted cheer- 
 223 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 ily. " He tells you that the verses have made the 
 wafers worth a fortune." 
 
 " Yes, but you always have revised my verses, 
 and he doesn t know that. Every poem I ve done 
 for the Honey Wafers Company you ve revised. 
 It is you who have made them sell all over this 
 continent.** 
 
 " What of it? " she answered, amused, " as long 
 as your uncle is satisfied. I don t mind the trouble 
 of editing your verses truly I don t." She rest 
 ed her cheek on her wrist, playing the while with 
 her pencil. " I am very happy to do what I can, 
 Mr. Hildreth. Shall we try once more? " 
 
 She seemed to grow more disturbingly pretty 
 every day ; he permitted himself to look at her long 
 enough to remember that he had something else 
 to do. " Din, pin, gin, sin," he repeated sullenly. 
 " What the mischief am I to write, anyway ? " 
 
 " I don t think we can use * sin, do you? " she 
 asked, lifting her blue eyes. 
 
 Perhaps he found inspiration in them ; he looked 
 at them hard; an inward struggle set his mouth 
 in an uncompromising line. And this is what he 
 evolved : 
 
 " Bright as blue eyes that are innocent of sin 
 Is the box of tin they re packed in 
 Hildreth s Honey W- 
 224 
 
THE SWASTIKA 
 
 " You can t compare a tin box to blue eyes, Mr. 
 Hildreth ! You surely must admit that." 
 
 " Tin is bright, isn t it ? Blue eyes are bright, 
 
 aren t they? Well, if one s bright and the others 
 nrp 
 
 cLJ. \J "" 
 
 She shook her head slowly ; her eyes had softened 
 to a violet tint. He noticed that phenomenon, but 
 he did not know that he had noticed it. His brows 
 met in a frown of intense intellectual concentra 
 tion; for five full minutes he remained rigid in 
 the agony of composition, then, with a long breath, 
 he delivered himself of another verse : 
 
 " Soft as the color of blue violets that grow in 
 The woods, is perfume from the box of tin ! 
 Hil " 
 
 " Oh, dear ! " said the stenographer with a sud 
 den little indrawing of her breath. 
 
 " If you want to laugh," he said, flushing, " go 
 ahead. I m not sensitive." 
 
 " I had no desire to laugh, Mr. Hildreth ; it s 
 far beyond a laughing matter." 
 
 He regarded her gloomily, relighted his cigar, 
 and gazed out of the frosty window. After a 
 moment a smile twitched his mouth. 
 
 " I suppose it s not good that last idea about 
 
 ingrowing violets " 
 
 225 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 She laughed : she could not help it ; he laughed, 
 too. 
 
 " How long have we been working together? " 
 he asked, leaning back in his chair. He knew, but 
 he wanted to know whether she knew. 
 
 She knew, but she pretended to think very hard 
 before answering, laying her pencil thoughtfully 
 across her lips, immersed in calculation. 
 
 " It must be nearly a month, Mr. Hil- 
 dreth." 
 
 " Impossible ! " he exclaimed, pretending sur 
 prise. 
 
 " Almost," she insisted. " Let me see ; I came 
 to you on the fifth " 
 
 " The ninth," he said quickly. He was easily 
 beguiled. 
 
 " Was it the ninth? " she asked wonderingly 
 though what there was to wonder at is not clear, 
 the date signalizing nothing in particular except 
 the day they first laid eyes on one another. " I 
 believe it was the ninth, after all. That would 
 make it almost a month " 
 
 " Exactly a month," he said triumphantly. 
 " This is our first anniversary and you didn t 
 know it ! " 
 
 He stopped; he hadn t meant to use words of 
 that sort. People employ such expressions for 
 226 
 
THE SWASTIKA 
 
 other matters, not to commemorate the date of a 
 purely business engagement. 
 
 " What you mean to say, Mr. Hildreth, is that 
 I have been in your employment exactly a month," 
 she said with amiable indifference. 
 
 " Exactly," he repeated, opening the inlaid 
 cover of a rococo desk and bringing forth a pack 
 age. Then he rose to his feet and made her a bow, 
 full of the charm of good breeding : " May I ven 
 ture to offer a little gift in memory of the for 
 tunate event ? " 
 
 She stood up, surprised, quiet, a trifle per 
 plexed. 
 
 "What fortunate event, Mr. Hildreth?" 
 
 " The annivers the pleasant occasion He 
 floundered, and she let him. It irritated him 
 to flounder, for his intentions were above re 
 proach. 
 
 " What I mean to say is simple enough," he 
 snapped. " You ve practically written my poems 
 for me, and you didn t have to, but if you hadn t 
 I either should have ruined my uncle s business or 
 lost my job, and I m grateful, and I wanted to 
 give you something to show it these books 
 
 She took them, a trifle uncertain, but guided 
 by inherited instinct. She looked at the beauti 
 fully bound and dreadfully expensive volumes. 
 227 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 The constraint lasted only a second; she thanked 
 him, glanced at the title-page, where he had writ 
 ten the date and her name, but not his own. His 
 good taste appealing to her, she smiled at him in 
 a delightfully friendly fashion ; and the charm of 
 the transfiguration so occupied him that, finding 
 himself staring, he neutralized the rudeness by 
 closing his eyes with a wise look as though intent 
 on pursuing elusive rhymes for commercial pur 
 poses. 
 
 She seated herself at her little flyaway gilded 
 desk once more ; he relapsed into his chair and sat 
 there drumming with his fingers on the golden 
 foliations of the carved arms. 
 
 She had, instinctively, picked up her pencil and 
 pad, ready for dictation when the sacred fire 
 should blaze up in him. The fire, however, ap 
 peared to be out. There was not a sputter. 
 
 " And in all this time," he mused, continuing 
 his cogitations aloud, " you have never asked me 
 why, in the name of common decency, I insisted on 
 trying to be a poet ! " 
 
 As she made no reply : 
 
 " Have you ? " he repeated. 
 
 " Of course I haven t " 
 
 " Is it because you are too civil to hurt a man s 
 feelings?" 
 
 228 
 
THE SWASTIKA 
 
 " It is because I am employed by you, Mr. Hil- 
 dreth " 
 
 " Because you are employed by me ? Nonsense ! 
 That s no reason why I should torture a cultivated 
 ear with unspeakable rhymes. I wonder, Miss 
 Grey, what you really think of me ? " 
 
 She could have told him thp.t she didn t think 
 of him at all except in a business sense, which would 
 have been an untruth, but the proper answer for 
 him. She thought of several answers, all reserved, 
 indifferent, discouraging the faintest hint of in 
 timacy, and therefore suitable. Then she said: 
 " Would it interest you to know what your ste 
 nographer thinks about you? " 
 
 He said it would interest him excessively, and 
 he desired information. 
 
 " I think," she said, not looking at him but at 
 her pencil, with which she was tracing arabesques 
 on the pad, " I think that you could do some things 
 much better than others. Oh, dear ! that sounds 
 like Tupper but it s true." 
 
 " You mean I d make a better bandit, for ex 
 ample, than I do a poet ? " 
 
 " I don t know what qualification you have for 
 the career you suggest," she replied demurely. 
 
 " I understand you," he said ; " it s as simple as 
 those profound lines : 
 
 229 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " A fool is bent upon a twig, but wise men shun a 
 
 bandit ; 
 Which is really very clever if you only understand it. " 
 
 That s what you intended to say, wasn t it? " 
 
 They were both laughing, she with more reserve 
 than he. 
 
 " If a bandit s life is not a happy one, what 
 must a poet s life resemble?" he demanded. 
 " Why, it s a perfect but the word is inadequate, 
 Miss Grey. Did you ever for one mad moment 
 suppose that I wrote rhymes for the pleasure it 
 gave me ? " 
 
 " No," she said, " I didn t." 
 
 " Or did you imagine I was infatuated with the 
 notion that my rhymes gave pleasure to others ? " 
 
 She laughed such a care-free laugh so sweet, 
 so entirely gay and innocent that he said im 
 pulsively : " I wish you d let me tell you how it 
 is. I do so hate to appear a fool to you." 
 
 Something checked her mirth, yet it scarcely 
 could be what he said, for his speech and manner 
 were quite free from offense. 
 
 "May I tell you?" he asked, conscious of the 
 shadow of constraint between them. 
 
 There was something in her silent acquiescence 
 which hinted : " My time is yours, Mr. Hildreth ; 
 but, considering the strictly business footing of 
 230 
 
THE SWASTIKA 
 
 our relations, hadn t you better begin to make your 
 third verse? " And no doubt the slight impatient 
 movement of his shoulders meant : " No, I won t 
 begin my third verse ; I desire to unburden to you 
 a soul too long misunderstood." But the inter 
 pretation of her silence and his shrug are purely 
 speculative on my part. 
 
 " I d quit this verse making in a moment if I 
 could," he said ; " but it s my livelihood. I always 
 loathed poetry, even my own ; but I ve simply got 
 to earn my living." 
 
 " Surely," she said, with an instinctive glance 
 around the exceedingly ornate apartment, " it 
 would be silly for you to give up making adver 
 tising verses for your uncle as long as as " 
 
 " As long as it permits me to live like this ? Do 
 you suppose that this is my apartment? that 
 anything in it belongs to me? that my income 
 from my wafer poetry would even pay for a single 
 week s rent here? There s the ghastly mockery 
 of it. Why, my salary is just twice what yours 
 is : in other words, I divide with you every week." 
 
 She regarded him with amazement. 
 
 " Apartment, servants everything belongs to 
 
 my uncle. My uncle has views," he said, waving 
 
 his hand. " Unfortunately, one of his views is 
 
 how to bring up his only nephew. Just fancy a 
 
 is 231 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 man fresh from Harvard flung neck and heels into 
 his uncle s wafer business on thirty dollars a 
 week!" 
 
 " Dreadful," she motioned with her lips. 
 
 " Neck and heels ! He said I was to find no 
 favors, no privileges ; that I must begin at the 
 lowest rung of the ladder, and, as he knew of 
 nothing lower than poetry, he set me to work writ 
 ing Honey Wafer ads. I m to be promoted next 
 year to be the artist that draws pictures for the 
 ads. After that I shall advance through the bak 
 ing, packing, and truck departments until I 
 become a traveling salesman. Meanwhile, I ve 
 emerged from my cheap boarding house to keep 
 his servants busy till he returns." 
 
 She sat very still, watching him with her beau 
 tiful, serious young eyes. 
 
 " Then, some day, I m to be taken into the con 
 cern and become a partner if 
 
 " If? " 
 
 " If I don t marry." 
 
 "Oh!" she said faintly. 
 
 " But if I do " 
 
 There was an ominous pause ; then she repeated 
 calmly : 
 
 "If you Jo?" 
 
 " I m down and out, and he leaves about five 
 232 
 
THE SWASTIKA 
 
 millions to the Society for Psychical Research. A 
 nice position for me if I should ever fall in love, 
 isn t it?" 
 
 The pause was longer this time. 
 
 " The Society for Psychical Research," she re 
 peated under her breath. 
 
 " Yes. You know they investigate spooks, 
 and tip tables, and go into trances, and see blond 
 gentlemen coming over the ocean to marry you, 
 and dark ladies hiding around the corner." 
 
 " Is he interested in such things your uncle ? " 
 
 " Mad about them. He s up at his country 
 place now with a bunch of Columbia professors 
 and Sixth Avenue clairvoyants, engaged in crystal- 
 gazing experiments. Later he s going to lecture 
 about em at Columbia University." 
 
 "What is crystal gazing?" she asked inno 
 cently. 
 
 " To tell you the truth, I don t know exactly. 
 My uncle and a fat clairvoyant in a pink teagown 
 sit at a table and squint into a big globe made of 
 rock crystal; and he tells me that he can sit in 
 his chair up there at Adrintha Lodge and see, in 
 the crystal, everything that he wants to see in 
 cluding how I m behaving myself down here in 
 town. He told me that if I ever ever kissed any 
 body he d see it and discharge me." 
 233 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " Does he say he can see you? " 
 
 " He does." 
 
 " And everything you are doing ? " 
 
 " Every blessed thing." 
 
 " Do you believe it? " she asked anxiously. 
 
 " No, of course not. But I let him think he 
 has me scared to death." 
 
 She leaned forward on the table, clasping both 
 hands under her chin. 
 
 " Is that what keeps you on your best be 
 havior? " 
 
 It was rather a curious thing to say. 
 
 " Suppose," she added, " that your uncle was 
 looking into his crystal at this very minute. I 
 think, if you please, we d better stop talking 
 and begin our work. . . . Don t you? I think 
 we ought at least to look as though we were 
 busy." 
 
 " You don t believe that he could see us, do 
 you? " demanded Hildreth. 
 
 " No ; . . . but suppose he could ? Don t you 
 think I d better copy your verses or be doing 
 something 
 
 She hastily placed a sheet of paper in the ma 
 chine, slid it into place, and struck several keys. 
 It was quite unconscious on her part, but when, 
 a moment later, she turned the sheet over she found 
 234 
 
THE SWASTIKA 
 
 that she had written his name about sixty times. 
 The portent of this, however, did not then strike 
 her. 
 
 Somewhere in the room little silvery chimes 
 sounded the hour. 
 
 " Can it be two o clock already ? " she exclaimed. 
 
 He examined his watch in assumed surprise. 
 " Why, we are just in time! " he said hazily. 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Hildreth in time for what?" 
 
 You you won t be offended where anything 
 but offense is meant will you ? " 
 
 She had risen to face him ; he, rather red about 
 the ears, began by making a mess of what he was 
 saying; and when she had grasped the import of 
 it she let him go on making a mess until his irrita 
 tion straightened out matters. 
 
 " It s only that you ve been so kind to help me 
 do all that advertising poetry, and I m so tremen 
 dously grateful, and it s our first annivers our 
 er the occasion You know what I mean. So 
 please stay to luncheon. Will you ? " 
 
 " Please don t ask me, Mr. Hildreth " 
 
 " Yes, I will ! You simply can t be offended ; 
 you simply cannot mistake my attitude, my mean- 
 ing- -" 
 
 " I am not offended. You are very thoughtful 
 
 amiable but I think I ought to go 
 
 235 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " Our anni the date, you know just to cele 
 brate a purely business arrangement which has 
 been so delight so profitable to me, I mean " 
 
 " No, I could not stay, Mr. Hildreth " 
 
 " But it s partly for business purposes," he 
 explained anxiously. " Why, you must know, 
 Miss Grey, that more business is transacted at 
 luncheon than before or after. That s what great 
 financiers do; they say to the head of a depart 
 ment : 4 Lunch with me, Mr. So-and-so. And Mr. 
 So-and-so understands at once." 
 
 " Does that great financier ever say : Lunch 
 with me, Miss So-and-so ? " 
 
 " Yes, often and often. And she understands ! " 
 
 " Are you sure she does ? " 
 
 " I am. Please let me be sure." 
 
 " Mr. Hildreth, I should should like to there, 
 I admit it ! But it is not convenable. I know it ; 
 you know it; it is not the thing for us to do. I 
 have no business here except as your stenographer. 
 I could not accept." 
 
 "Because you are a stenographer?" 
 
 " If I were not in your employment I should 
 not be here with you. You know that." 
 
 " But I should perhaps be at your house if 
 
 " You are speculating in impossibilities." She 
 bent her head, smiling across the table at him, and 
 236 
 
THE SWASTIKA 
 
 dropping her hand on the books he had given her. 
 " Your kindness must have some bounds ; let it 
 end in these bindings ; I I shall remember it with 
 each leaf I turn." And as he said nothing, but 
 looked rather miserable, she added : " Won t 
 you?" 
 
 There was another interval of silence ; she con 
 sidered his face anew. The unhappiness in it was 
 evident. 
 
 " Do you really want me ... to talk busi 
 ness?" 
 
 " I want you to stay. Will you ? " 
 
 She did not answer, though a little tremor 
 touched her lips. 
 
 "That s jolly!" he said gayly, and touched 
 an electric button behind him. And a moment 
 later a maid in cap and apron respectfully piloted 
 her out of sight. 
 
 About half past two a Japanese butler served 
 them in the colonial breakfast room, and she 
 laughed at the little silver trifle she found beside 
 her plate a tiny type-machine made to hold scents 
 in microscopic crystal vials. Her initials were en 
 graved upon it. 
 
 " You see," he said, " / do not regard our 
 poetical partnership lightly, even if you do. What 
 you have done for me is going to enable me to 
 237 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 enter the firm one day aided by your editing my 
 verses." 
 
 " I never before understood," she admitted, 
 " why you advertised for a stenographer who was 
 a graduate of Barnard College. And when I 
 applied to you I was perfectly astonished when 
 you asked me so anxiously whether I could rhyme 
 and draw pictures." 
 
 He examined his grape fruit and extracted a 
 minted cherry with great care. Presently he 
 swallowed it. 
 
 " I knew from the first instant I saw you that 
 my chance in life had come," he observed. 
 
 " You didn t know it before you questioned me." 
 
 " Yes, I did." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 He looked up at her : " I don t know how I knew 
 it." She was apparently interested in the aroma 
 of her wine. " But I knew it," he ended. 
 
 The vintage was doubtless worthy of the serious 
 attention she gave it. 
 
 " Do you know what wine that is ? " he asked, 
 amused. 
 
 " Yes ; it is Sarna," she said simply. 
 
 " How did you know? " he exclaimed in amaze 
 ment. 
 
 She lifted the glass with a pretty gesture : " Are 
 238 
 
THE SWASTIKA 
 
 you so astonished that your stenographer knows 
 the rarest wine in the world and the legend con 
 cerning it? A most inappropriate wine for such 
 a luncheon, Mr. Hildreth 
 
 " You are a constant series of endless astonish 
 ments to me," he said. " Where on earth you ever 
 heard of Sarna and how you should have known 
 it when you saw it this wine so rare that but one 
 in ten thousand experts ever heard of it 
 
 " Why did you have it served ? " she asked di 
 rectly. " Do you know what this wine of Sarna 
 signifies? Do you know every drop is worth ten 
 times its weight in gold? Do you know there 
 are not three other bottles of it known in the 
 world?" 
 
 " I knew all that. I believed that Sarna alone 
 was worthy of of " he met her level gaze " of 
 our first anniversary." 
 
 " No ; it is inappropriate," she replied steadily. 
 " Do you not know the legend ? " 
 
 " It is the only wine not forbidden by the Koran. 
 Is that what you mean? Or do you mean " He 
 hesitated. 
 
 " Yes, that. The last Khedive emptied the last 
 
 glass of the last but three bottles remaining in all 
 
 the world while his bride s lips were still wet with 
 
 the dew of Sarna. It is the custom of Emperors 
 
 239 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 and Sultans ask me for how long, and my an 
 swer is: as long as the saros; compute it, oh, 
 Heaven-born ! " She crossed her pretty hands 
 below her throat, a smile, half gay, half tender, 
 parting her lips. 
 
 " How did you know such things ? " he asked. 
 
 " My father was a judge of the Mixed Tri 
 bunal," she answered gravely. " My mother was 
 married there ; I was born in Cairo." 
 
 " Fate ! " he said excitedly" sheer Fate ! My 
 father was the ex-Confederate, Hildreth Pasha, 
 of the Khedival Court ! The Sarna that bottle 
 cradled there came from a judge of the Mixed 
 Tribunal ! Shall not their children touch the same 
 glass?" 
 
 They both were excited, flushed, a little be 
 wildered. 
 
 " Do you know the custom ? " he asked reck 
 lessly. 
 
 " Y-es." She held up one slender finger ; her 
 mother s betrothal ring, set with the diamond 
 scarab, sparkled on the white skin; and she drew 
 the thin circlet from her finger and held it sus 
 pended over the glass of golden Sarna. The single 
 brilliant flashed and flashed as though the sacred 
 beetle were struggling to be free. 
 
 "Shall I?" 
 
 240 
 
THE SWASTIKA 
 
 " Try it," he laughed. " Who knows what sign 
 of fortune the dead Sultans may send ? " 
 
 " They - - they only send a sign to to 
 brides " 
 
 " I know it. Try ! " 
 
 " But the mechanism is unknown to me ; it is 
 not possible that a bath of this scented wine could 
 start it " 
 
 "Try!" 
 
 There was a glimmer, a little clinking splash 
 in the slim wineglass. They inspected the ring 
 lying in the amber wine; they glanced at one an 
 other rather foolishly. Then, looking at him, she 
 raised the glass, tasted, passed it to him. He 
 tasted, his eyes on her, and set the half -empty 
 glass before her. 
 
 " I I believe there s something happening to 
 that ring," said Hildreth suddenly, rising and 
 passing around the table to her side. 
 
 Breathless, they bent over the glass, heads close 
 together. 
 
 " Doesn t it look to you as though that diamond 
 scarab were moving ? " he said in a low voice. 
 
 " Yes ; but it can t be how can it " 
 
 "Look!" 
 
 " Oh h ! " she whispered" see ! It it s 
 alive ! It is unfolding arms and legs like a crab." 
 241 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " What on earth " he stammered, but got no 
 further, for the girl caught him by the arm: 
 " Look ! Look ! The swastika! It means fortune ! 
 It means it means " 
 
 His hand shook as he lifted the glass and re 
 versed it. A shower of perfumed wine sprinkled 
 the lace centerpiece; the mystic swastika, glit 
 tering, magnificent, fell heavily upon the ma 
 hogany a dull, gem-incrusted lump of purest 
 gold. 
 
 " What is it? " he gasped. " I thought it was 
 alive, like one of those jeweled Egyptian beetles! 
 I thought those things were legs ! " 
 
 " It is the swastika," she whispered, laying it 
 in her pink palm. " Who wears it shall always 
 She stopped short, hesitated, then the color in her 
 face deepened, and she looked up over her shoulder 
 at him. "Will you do something for me?" she 
 asked. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Wear this. Will you? " She drew her tiny 
 handkerchief from her sleeve, tore a shred of 
 cambric from it, passed it through the swastika, 
 and, before he knew what she meant to do, had tied 
 it to his lapel. 
 
 " Just to see what happens," she said, laugh 
 ing almost hysterically. If there was the slightest 
 242 
 
THE SWASTIKA 
 
 chance of any luck in the world she wished it to 
 be his. It was all she had to give. 
 
 " You resign your chance of fortune to me ? " 
 he asked curiously and, as she only nodded: 
 " There is but one happiness Fortune can bring 
 me. Are you willing to trust it to me? " 
 
 Before she could reply a maid appeared with 
 a telegram; he asked her pardon, and opened it. 
 Twice he read it, read it again, nodded a dazed 
 dismissal to the maid, read it again very carefully, 
 and finally, with a smile that was somewhat sickly, 
 handed it across the table to her. 
 
 What she read was this : 
 
 ADRINTHA LODGE, 
 MOHAWK COUNTY, NEW YORK. 
 
 JOHN HILDRETH : I know what you re up to, and 
 you had better stop. PETER HILDRETH. 
 
 " Peter Hildreth," she repeated blankly. 
 
 " My uncle." 
 
 " But but what does he mean ? " 
 
 " That s what I d like to know," said the young 
 fellow uneasily. 
 
 " Is he in the habit of telegraphing you ? " 
 
 " No, he isn t ; he never did such a thing." 
 
 She turned the yellow leaf of paper over and 
 over thoughtfully. Then he suddenly encountered 
 her disturbed gaze. 
 
 243 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " He says that he knows what you re up to, and 
 you d better stop," she said. " What are you up 
 to, Mr. Hildreth?" 
 
 " Up to ? Absolutely nothing ! I m fairly tin 
 gling with the consciousness of innocence, right 
 eousness, and good intentions. / don t know 
 what that old crank means any more than you 
 know." 
 
 " I I am dreadfully afraid that 7 know what 
 he means." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " I think he means me." 
 
 "You! Why?" 
 
 " Because I m here here lunching with you. 
 He might draw dreadful conclusions." 
 
 " What on earth do you mean, Miss Grey ? 
 He never even heard of you. Plow can he know 
 you are here? " 
 
 " Suppose suppose he is is looking into his 
 crystal ! " 
 
 A sudden silence fell, lasting until the coffee was 
 served. 
 
 " It is nonsense to suppose that people can do 
 such things," said Hildreth abruptly. 
 
 " What things ? " she asked, watching him set 
 fire to a cigarette. 
 
 " Such things as looking into crystals and see- 
 244 
 
THE SWASTIKA 
 
 ing nephews. Anyway, what is there to see ? " 
 He waved his hands as though scattering suspi 
 cion to the four winds. " What is there to see 
 except a future financier and his principal chief 
 of department at a purely business luncheon " 
 
 With silver souvenirs and Sarna," she mur 
 mured. 
 
 They laughed, feeling the constraint subsiding 
 once more. 
 
 " Please let us talk a little business for form s 
 sake, if nothing else," she said. 
 
 " All right ; your salary is to be increased " 
 
 " Mr. Hildreth, you cannot afford any extrav 
 agances, and you know it." 
 
 " I am not going to let you write my verses, 
 and profit by it to your exclusion! Besides, this 
 swastika is going to enable me to afford anything, 
 I understand." 
 
 " But you already divide your salary with me. 
 You can t do more ! " 
 
 " Yes, I can." 
 
 " No, no, no ! Wait until you are promoted to 
 be the advertising artist. Wait until the swastika 
 begins to help us you." 
 
 " No ; because then you ll have to draw all my 
 pictures for me, and your salary must be increased 
 
 again." 
 
 245 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 "At that rate," she said, laughing, "I ll be 
 half partner when you are." 
 
 " Full partner if the swastika knows its busi 
 ness. I I wish he didn t have that crystal up 
 there at Adrintha. I ve a mind to buy a rabbit s 
 foot. With a rabbit s foot and a swastika we 
 ought to checkmate any crystal-gazing, pink-eyed 
 clairvoyants." 
 
 " But what have they to do with us ? " she 
 asked gently. 
 
 What he was about to say he only half divined 
 for she was bewilderingly pretty and perhaps 
 she dimly foresaw it, too, for they both flushed 
 with a sudden constraint that was abruptly broken 
 by the entrance of the maid with another telegram. 
 
 " What the deuce " stammered Hildreth, tear 
 ing open the yellow envelope; and he read: 
 
 ADRINTHA LODGE. 
 
 JOHN HILDRETH : I m watching you in my crystal. 
 If you want the Society for Psychical Research to become 
 my heirs, do exactly what you re doing with that girl. 
 
 PETER HILDRETH. 
 
 "Is is it anything alarming?" asked the 
 pretty stenographer as he crumpled the paper. 
 
 " Alarming ? I don t know no ! What the 
 mischief has got into that uncle of mine? " 
 246 
 
THE SWASTIKA 
 
 " Is it from him ? " she asked, turning pale. 
 
 " Yes it is. But if he thinks he can make me 
 believe that he sees me in his dinky little crys 
 tal " 
 
 " Oh, don t talk that way," she pleaded ; " there 
 may be things that we don t understand happen 
 ing all the while " 
 
 "There can t be!" 
 
 For a while she was dumb, mutely refusing to 
 be reassured, and presently, rising from the table, 
 they passed into the gay little room where her desk 
 stood. 
 
 The fire was glowing very brightly in the carved 
 fireplace of golden and pearl-tinted onyx. He 
 drew up his uncle s great chair for her ; she shook 
 her head and looked meaningly at her pad and 
 pencil, but after a silent struggle with indecision 
 and inclination she seated herself by the gilt fen 
 der, pretty hands folded in acquiescence. 
 
 " Now," he said, " let us speak of those things 
 that have come true." 
 
 " What has come true, Mr. Hildreth? " 
 
 " You." 
 
 The slightest of rose tints touched her cheeks. 
 
 " Did you believe me unreal ? " she asked. 
 
 He was leaning forward, looking up into her 
 face, which reflected the pink light of the fire. 
 17 247 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 And what he started to say Heaven alone knows, 
 for his voice was dreadfully unsteady. However, 
 it ceased quickly enough when the maid knocked 
 rather loudly and presented a third telegram to 
 her disconcerted master; and this was what he 
 
 read: 
 
 ADRINTHA LODGE. 
 
 JOHN HILDRETH : If you kiss that girl you re talking 
 to I ll disinherit you. PETER HILDRETH. 
 
 Stunned, the young man sat for a moment, 
 vacant eyes fixed on the writing that alternately 
 blurred and sprang into dreadful distinctness 
 under his gaze. Presently he heard a voice not 
 much like his own saying : " It s nonsense ; things 
 like this don t happen in 1907 in the borough of 
 Manhattan. Why, that s Fifth Avenue out there, 
 and there s Thirtieth Street, too; besides, the 
 town s full of police ; and they pinch star-readers 
 and astrologers these days. Anyway, we have the 
 swastika, and it will put any Sixth Avenue astrol 
 oger out of business " 
 
 " I I don t think I quite understand you," 
 faltered the girl. 
 
 He looked at her; the scared expression died 
 out. 
 
 " I ll get my uncle on the long-distance phone 
 in a moment," he said irritably. " Then we ll 
 248 
 
THE SWASTIKA 
 
 clear up this business. Meanwhile " He twisted 
 up the telegram as though to cast it on the 
 coals. 
 
 " Let me see it," she said calmly. 
 
 " I it is no I can t " 
 
 " Then it concerns me? " 
 
 He was silent. 
 
 " Very well," she said. " Don t burn it ; leave 
 it for a moment." 
 
 He laid the telegram on the arm of his chair. 
 " It s more crystal-gazing," he said, trying to 
 laugh easily, and failing. " It is rather extraor 
 dinary, too. But see here, Miss Grey, it s utter 
 nonsense to believe that my uncle can actually see 
 us here in this room ! 
 
 " I concede that it is rather odd, even, perhaps, 
 exceedingly remarkable," he added slowly ; " but 
 I cannot believe that my uncle, two hundred miles 
 north of us, can see you and me in his confounded 
 crystal. My explanation of his telegrams is this : 
 he has merely taken the precaution, at intervals, 
 to try to frighten me, assuming that I am in mis 
 chief. It s coincidence " 
 
 "Mr. Hildreth!" 
 
 " Not that I admit for one moment that you 
 and I are in mischief ! " he explained hastily. 
 
 " But 7 admit it. It is all wrong, and we both 
 249 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 know it. If I am not here officially I ought not 
 to be here at all." 
 
 " Can t I talk to you except on business ? " 
 
 "Why should you?" 
 
 " Because I want to because it is pleasant 
 because it s the pleasantest thing that has ever 
 come into my life ! " 
 
 "That cannot be," she said, paling. "You 
 know many people, you go everywhere every 
 where that I do not " 
 
 " If I were not an advertising poet at thirty 
 dollars a week," he said, " I d not care where my 
 uncle left his millions. I d do what I pleased 
 what I ought to do what any man with a grain 
 of sense would do." 
 
 " What would you do, Mr. Hildreth? " 
 
 " Make love to the girl I love, and not be scared 
 away like a rabbit ! " 
 
 She was still paler when she said: "Are you 
 in love, then ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but I can t tell her." 
 
 She was silent, staring into the fire. 
 
 " I can t tell her, can I? I have nothing to offer 
 nothing except a prospect of losing my expecta 
 tions. A man can t tell a girl that he loves her 
 under such circumstances, can he ? " 
 
 " I don t know." 
 
 250 
 
THE SWASTIKA 
 
 " Do you suppose a a girl like that would wait 
 for him until he got into the firm? " 
 
 " If she loved him," said Miss Grey in a low 
 voice, " there is absolutely no telling what that 
 girl might do." 
 
 " Suppose," he said carelessly, " for the sake of 
 illustration, that I was, at this moment, with that 
 girl. For example " he waved his hand airily 
 " for example, suppose you were that girl. Now, 
 suppose that I told her I loved her ; do you imagine 
 that uncle of mine could see what I was about 
 if I worked the swastika on him vigorously ? " 
 
 " I don t know," she said, staring at the fire, 
 " how to work the swastika." 
 
 " If you if you would consent to aid me just 
 a little," he ventured, " I could soon prove whether 
 it was safe to speak to the the other girl." 
 
 "How, Mr. Hildreth?" 
 
 " By just just pretending that you were that 
 other girl." 
 
 " You mean that you might practice a declara 
 tion test it on me? Just to see how it might 
 affect your uncle? " 
 
 " Yes," he said eagerly, " and if my uncle 
 doesn t telegraph again that he disowns me, why, 
 I ll know that his other telegrams were merely 
 coincidences ! " 
 
 251 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " And if he does telegraph that he has seen 
 everything in his crystal?" 
 
 " Why we ll have to wait " 
 
 " The other girl and you? I see. You and I 
 can truthfully deny our apparent guilt, can t we? 
 ... I will do what I can, Mr. Hildreth." 
 
 She stood up, one little hand on the back of the 
 chair. He hesitated, then picked up the last tele 
 gram, opened it, and handed it to her, reading it 
 again over her shoulder: 
 
 " If you kiss that girl you re talking to I ll 
 disinherit you" 
 
 A bright blush stained her skin. 
 
 "It is only only to test his power," he man 
 aged to say, but the thumping of his heart jarred 
 his speech and scared him into silence. 
 
 "You is it necessary to kiss me?" 
 
 " Yes absolutely. 
 
 She met his gaze, standing erect, one hand on 
 the chair: Then she drew a long breath as he 
 lifted her hand ; her eyes closed. He said : " I 
 love you I loved you the moment I saw you a 
 month ago ! " This was no doubt a mistake ; he 
 was mixing the two girls. " What do I care for 
 a crystal-squinting uncle, or for those accursed 
 Honey Wafer verses? If he s looking at us now 
 let us convince him ; shall we sweetheart ? " 
 252 
 
THE SWASTIKA 
 
 She unclosed her eyes. " Am I to play my part 
 when you speak to me like that? I don t know 
 how " 
 
 " Do what I do," he stammered ; and he encir 
 cled her slender waist and kissed her until, cheeks 
 aflame, she swayed a moment in his arms, freed 
 herself, and sank breathless into the chair, cover 
 ing her face. And he knelt beside her by the gilt 
 fender, his lips to her fingers, stammering words 
 that almost stunned her and left her faint with 
 their passion and sweetness : 
 
 " You must have known that it was you I loved 
 that you were that other girl. You must have 
 seen it a thousand times ! " 
 
 She was crying silently; she could not speak, 
 but one arm tightened around his neck in tremulous 
 assent. 
 
 The telephone bell had been ringing for some 
 time in their ears, deaf to all sounds except each 
 other s whispers; but at length he stumbled 
 to his feet, cleared his eyes of enchantment, 
 and made his way across the room to the re 
 ceiver. 
 
 " What the deuce is the matter? " 
 
 " Who? " 
 
 253 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " Oh, is that you, Uncle Peter? " 
 
 " Yes, I did get your telegrams, but I 
 thought " 
 
 You mean to say you can see us now? " 
 " No, I don t deny it ; I did kiss her." 
 " Because I love her ! " 
 
 " I can t help it ; you can do as you please. 
 And I may as well tell you that I m not afraid of 
 your professors, or clairvoyants, or your crystals, 
 because I ve got a swastika " 
 
 * Yes, a swastika ! " 
 
 " You don t know what a swastika is ? Well, 
 let me tell you it s about five thousand times more 
 powerful than a rabbit s foot. . . . What? . . . 
 Yes, I ll hold the wire till you look it up in the 
 dictionary." 
 
 A throbbing silence. Then: 
 
 " Yes, Uncle Peter, I m here." 
 
 
 
 " Very well ; I m sorry you re angry, and I re 
 gret that you re not afraid of the swastika. I 
 254 
 
THE SWASTIKA 
 
 am quite willing to trust to it ; the swastika gave 
 me the girl I love. And, by the way, Uncle Peter, 
 didn t you write me that my advertising poems 
 made a fortune for you out of your wafers? . . . 
 All right; I only wanted to confess that she, not 
 I, wrote them." 
 
 " Don t believe it ? Why, I could no more write 
 those charming verses than you could ! " 
 
 " You may imagine that with her talent and 
 mine, and the swastika working away for us, we 
 are not going to starve " 
 
 " That s just what we intend to do. Bunsen s 
 Baby Biscuit Company will appreciate our talents. 
 Besides, she can draw " 
 
 4 You can call it blackmail if you choose. But 
 what do you offer us to refuse advances from 
 Bunsen?" 
 
 " No, I won t consider it. My price is full 
 partnership in the Hildreth s Honey Wafer Com 
 pany, a cordial blessing from you, use of your 
 apartments for a year, and the same old cozy place 
 in your testament." 
 
 255 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " Yes, in return we will write your poetry and 
 draw your pictures for you. And, besides, we ll 
 name after you our first 
 
 " Jack ! " she exclaimed, aghast. 
 
 " Dearest, for Heaven s sake let me deal with 
 him ! " whispered Hildreth ; then he shouted 
 through the transmitter: 
 
 " Is it aU right, Uncle Peter? " 
 
 " I promise you we promise you that we will 
 name him Peter! If you don t, by Heaven, I ll 
 name him Bunsen " 
 
 " That s all right, but we re desperate. Peter 
 or Bunsen ; take your choice ! " 
 
 " Yes ; and I ll have his photograph taken for 
 Bunsen, and under it I ll print : 4 A Bunsen s Baby 
 Biscuit Boy ! " 
 
 " Don t use such language ; they ll cut us off ! " 
 "What?" 
 
 " Good ! All right, Uncle Peter, you re a brick. 
 But just one thing more ; please put that crystal 
 
 away for an hour or two " 
 
 . . 
 
 256 
 
THE SWASTIKA 
 
 " Because we d like a little privacy ! " 
 
 " Of course I shall. Long engagements are 
 foolish " 
 
 "Jack!" 
 
 " Dearest, you know they are," he said, turning 
 toward her. " Shall I tell him in a week? " 
 
 Her blue eyes filled; again the little tremor of 
 acquiescence set her red mouth quivering. 
 
 " In a week, Uncle Peter ! " he shouted. 
 
 " What? I ll ask her. Hold the wire." 
 
 And to her he said : " Sweetheart, our kind 
 Uncle Peter desires to say something civil to you. 
 I I think it may be something about a check. 
 Will you speak to him? " 
 
 She rose and came toward him; he handed her 
 the receiver ; she raised her head, and he bent his. 
 They kissed while his uncle waited. 
 
 Then she raised the receiver to her pretty ear, 
 and said, very softly: 
 
 " Hello ! Hello, Uncle Peter ! " 
 
 257 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 As young Leeds entered the imposing bronze 
 and marble portico of the Algonquin Trust Build 
 ing, where he had a studio on the top floor, the 
 elevator boy handed him a telegram and he opened 
 it with instinctive foreboding of trouble. Mean 
 while, the Ghost of Chance, which had followed 
 him into the building, looked over his shoulder at 
 the telegram. 
 
 There was evidently trouble enough in it; he 
 had turned rather white as he stood there, eyes 
 riveted on the yellow paper. Minute after minute 
 sped; the elevators whizzed up and down in their 
 gilded cages ; people passed and repassed ; the or 
 namental marble pavement of the rotunda echoed 
 the clatter of footsteps. Several people he knew 
 nodded to him as they entered or left the ele 
 vators : an architect domiciled on the top floor in 
 the east wing, McManus, of the Belden Building 
 and Construction Company; young Farren, pri- 
 258 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 vate Secretary to De Peyster Thorne, president of 
 the great Algonquin Trust Company, and director 
 of about everything worth directing in the five 
 boroughs. 
 
 " Mr. Farren ! " called out Leeds ; and, as that 
 suave man checked his speed, wheeled, and came 
 back, " Mr. Farren, could I see Mr. Thorne for 
 half a second? " 
 
 Farren s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. " If it s 
 a favor you want to ask, don t ask it now " 
 
 " It is, and I ve got to " 
 
 " Better not ; he s in a devilish humor ; he d 
 foreclose on his own grandmother to-day." 
 
 " But I can t wait ! I ll use your telephone 
 while you re taking my card." 
 
 Farren shrugged, turned, and led the way 
 across the rotunda, ushered Leeds into the outer 
 office, and took his card. Leeds went to a desk 
 and used the telephone vigorously until Farren 
 reappeared, nodding; and Leeds walked into the 
 president s private room. De Peyster Thorne, 
 handsome, rather too elaborately groomed, and 
 ruddier of face and neck than usual, looked up to 
 return the young man s greeting with an expres 
 sionless word and nod. He did not see the Ghost 
 of Chance standing at Leeds s elbow. 
 
 " I m awfully sorry," said Leeds, " but I don t 
 259 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 see how I can finish the key panel on time, Mr. 
 Thome." 
 
 "Why not?" said Thorne, a darker flush 
 mounting his heavy face and neck. 
 
 " I ve a telegram this moment from my model ; 
 she s ill. I telephoned for another, but there s 
 scarcely a chance I can get one I want. Some 
 thing went wrong with the colors yesterday and 
 I scraped out all I had done, expecting to finish 
 to-day with a drier, dry to-morrow, and have Mr. 
 McManus set the key panel in the ballroom Thurs 
 day morning. Now, I ve probably got to spend 
 to-day chasing up a red-haired model ; and if I do, 
 I cannot finish by Thursday. Couldn t you give 
 me one day more? " 
 
 " Mr. Leeds," said Thorne, biting off his words 
 unpleasantly, " a contract is a contract. Can you 
 fulfill yours?" 
 
 " I ve told you," began Leeds, astonished for 
 never before had Thorne looked or spoken in that 
 way " I told you that my model " 
 
 " Can you keep your contract ? " repeated 
 Thorne sharply. 
 
 " There s a ghost of a chance if I can get a 
 proper model," replied Leeds, keeping his temper. 
 
 " Then you d better take that ghost of a chance, 
 Mr. Leeds. On reflection it will occur to you that 
 260 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 my housewarming can scarcely be postponed to 
 suit your rather erratic convenience. If the key 
 panel is not in place, the room will be as attractive 
 as a man in evening clothes without a collar. I d 
 rather tear out the entire frieze, and call the con 
 tract void ! and I ll do it, too, if the contract is 
 not fulfilled." 
 
 " Is that the language you employ in all your 
 commercial transactions ? " asked Leeds without a 
 trace of the passion that clutched at him. 
 
 " It is. An artist is as amenable to the com 
 mercial code of responsibility as any man I deal 
 with I don t care a damn who he is or how he 
 likes it. ... Is there anything more I can do for 
 you, Mr. Leeds ? " 
 
 " No," said Leeds thoughtfully, " unless you 
 choose to take a kindergarten course in the ele 
 ments of decency." 
 
 Leaving the door ajar as he went out, and far 
 too amazed and furious to notice Mr. Farren, the 
 amused secretary, he crossed the corridor, fol 
 lowed by the Ghost of Chance, entered an elevator, 
 and shot up to the top floor. Black rage and 
 astonishment still possessed him when he met Mc- 
 Manus in the hall, and he would have passed on 
 with a nod and a scowl had that genial Irishman 
 permitted. 
 
 261 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " Phwat the divil s up now, Misther Leeds?" 
 inquired the big contractor and builder. " I ll lay 
 twinty to wan ye ve joost come from Thorne." 
 
 Leeds laid his hand on the door knob of his 
 studio. 
 
 " I have ; I I m not in very good humor, Mr. 
 McManus He jerked open the door and 
 started to enter. 
 
 " Hould on ! don t be runnin away. Sure 
 haven t I come from him meself an kept me 
 temper, too, Irish that I am! Phwat s wrong 
 betchune you an Misther Thorne an the hy 
 drant? " 
 
 " Nothing much ; my model is ill and I can t 
 promise to give you that key panel to set. Thorne 
 said one or two things oh, I can t talk about 
 it ; he said one or two things " 
 
 " Bedad, thin, he said a dozen things to me ; 
 an me as cool as a Waldorf julep, an he dammin 
 the gildin whin I asked f r the sivinth installment 
 due this day. It s an expert I ll have f r to ex 
 amine it, sez he. * Projooce the wad, sez I, * an 
 af ther that I ll talk talks to anny expert ye name. 
 An he had to." 
 
 Leeds s heart turned heavy. " I don t know 
 what Thorne means to do," he said. " I m not 
 much on contracts ; I ve done my best. I suppose 
 262 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 he will rip it out if he wants to. If he does, and 
 if he cancels the contract, it will about ruin me. 
 I never had but four other commissions; it cost 
 me more to execute them than I was paid." 
 
 The big Irishman studied the younger man with 
 keen, kindly eyes. He knew what Leeds s frieze 
 really was a piece of work that for sheer in 
 spired beauty had not its equal in modern mural 
 art. He knew even his artisans knew. And he 
 knew, also, that in this fifth essay, a young man, 
 of whom the public had already heard, was step 
 ping half unconsciously into the highest place in 
 the Western world of art. All this McManus was 
 shrewdly aware of, and he was aware, too, that 
 Leeds was more or less conscious of it, and that 
 Thorne was utterly unconscious that, in his new 
 house, the golden ballroom already contained the 
 mural masterpiece of the twentieth century an 
 exquisite, gay riot of color and design, so lovely, 
 so fresh, that, concealed under the miracle of its 
 simplicity, the marvelous technical perfections of 
 color, drawing, and composition were almost un 
 noticed in the blinding brilliancy of the ensemble. 
 
 " Did that red-necked madman say he d rip 
 it out?" inquired McManus, his fiery blue eyes 
 aglitter. 
 
 " That s what he said. I don t know whether 
 18 263 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 the work is good or bad; I m two years stale on 
 it. I could paint a better one now. But if he 
 holds me to the letter of the contract and throws 
 back two years work on my hands, what can I 
 do? I I never imagined he was that sort of a 
 man ; I knew he didn t care much for painting 
 his architects got him to give me the work my 
 first commission that promised any profit " 
 
 Something tightened in his throat, and he 
 turned his head sharply to the window of the 
 corridor. 
 
 " Arrah, thin," said McManus hastily, " don t 
 be frettin . G wan, now, an paint like the divil. 
 Give him anny ould thing f r to ploog the key. 
 Sure, tis his f ri nds will tell him fasht enough the 
 bargain he s got in a frieze a frieze, begob ! that 
 no man twixt the two poles can paint like you ! 
 an that s the truth, Misther Leeds, though ye 
 don t know it, bein modestlike an misthrustin 
 av the powers God sinds ye. Ploog him up with 
 a key panel anny ould daub, I tell ye! f r to 
 clinch the contract come pay-day ! An I ll set it 
 accordin to conthract Thursday comin ; an 
 afther he s opened his big gilt house to the mil 
 lionaires he consorts with, an afther the bunch 
 has christened their muddy wits with the j yful 
 juice, go to him quietlike, yer foot in yer hand 
 264 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 an the tongue in the cheek o ye, an say mod- 
 estlike : Wisha, sorr, me mastherpiece is not quite 
 to me likin ; an I m thinkin to add a few millions 
 to its value wid a stroke av a badger brush. 
 
 The big Irishman laughed heartily and laid an 
 enormous paw on Leeds s shoulder a gesture so 
 kindly that the familiarity seemed without offense. 
 
 " Phwat does the like o youse care for Mr. 
 Thorne an his big red neck an the pants o him 
 wid the creases, an his collar buttoned by his 
 valley? F r all his scarf pin an his shiny shoes 
 an his Thrust Company an his millions, I seen a 
 bit of a lass give him the frozen face an hour ago." 
 
 Leeds looked up curiously. 
 
 " Arrah, thin, that s what crazed him. I was 
 there in his office discoorsin on conthracts, pwhen 
 the dure opened an a young lady sthepped in 
 not seein me pwhere I sat behind the dure. 
 
 " Naida ! sez he, joompin up, the Burrgundy 
 flush on the face an neck av him. 
 
 " I came to tell you that I can t do it, sez she, 
 her purty face like a rose in blush. I m sorry, 
 she sez, but I thought you ought to be told, an 
 I drove downtown in a hurry, sez she, f r to tell 
 you, she sez, that I was not in me right mind 
 when you asked me to marry you, sez she. 4 So 
 I m sorry I m so sorry, she sez, an good-by ! 
 265 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 an wid that the breath stopped in her an she 
 gulped, scairtlike. 
 
 " Phwat! sez he, bitin the worrud in two 
 halves. An she gulped an shook her head. 
 
 " Wid that he began in a wild way, clane f or- 
 gettin me in the corner, me hat on me two knees ; 
 an the young lady was a bit wild, too, bein very 
 young an excited ; an there they had it like John 
 Drew an his leadin lady quietlike an soft- 
 spoken, but turrible as a dress-shirt drama, till 
 she said: No! No! No! wid a little sob, an 
 out o the dure an off, he afther her. Sorra the 
 sight av her he got, with Farren hunting her, an 
 himself ridin up an down in the cages when the 
 porther tould him she d dodged an gone up to 
 the top floor." 
 
 " So that was why he was so ugly," said Leeds 
 curiously. 
 
 " It was. He was smooth enough till the lass 
 came in an left him her sweet little mitten. But 
 whin he came back, red as a bottle o Frinch wine, 
 an the two eyes o him like black holes burnt in 
 a blanket save us! All that was close an hard 
 an mean an sly an bitter an miserly came out in 
 the man, an the way he talked to me av honest 
 work done wud stir the neck hair on a fightin 
 pup. I was wild ; but I sez to meself , lave him talk 
 266 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 his talk; it s all wan on pay-day. An so it is, 
 Misther Leeds; it is so. GVan into ye re work 
 shop, an shpit on ye re hands, an we ll ploog that 
 key space by 5 P.M., come Thursday, bad cess to 
 the bad, an luck to the likes of us, glory be ! " 
 
 Leeds stood half inside his threshold, the edge 
 of the open door grasped in his hand, gazing 
 thoughtfully at the floor. 
 
 " All right, McManus," he said quietly ; " I ll 
 do what I can to save my bread, but " he looked 
 straight at the Irishman " it s bitter bread we 
 learn to eat sometimes we who are employed." 
 
 " Troth, I ve swallyed worse nor that ; I have 
 so, Misther Leeds. Bide the time, sorr. An* 
 phwin it comes ! paste him wan." 
 
 "Oh, I ll have forgotten him by that time," 
 said Leeds, laughing, as McManus, with a signifi 
 cant and powerful gesture, turned on his broad 
 heel and strode off toward his own rooms, where 
 Kenna, his partner, had been making frantic sig 
 nals to him for the last five minutes. 
 
 Leeds entered his studio, the Ghost of Chance 
 at his heels, closing the door behind him. Through 
 the golden gloom of the room his huge picture 
 loomed up, somber in the subdued light ; an aro 
 matic odor of wet colors and siccatif hung in 
 the air. 
 
 267 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 First, he laid aside his overcoat and hat, un 
 hooked from a door peg a short painting blouse 
 and pulled it over his head; then he moved about 
 briskly, opening ventilators to air the place, ma 
 nipulating the curtains for top and side lights, 
 dragging the carved mahogany model stand into 
 the position marked by the chalk crosses on the 
 polished floor. Presently he touched a spring; 
 the top shade rolled up with a click; a flood of 
 pure north light fell upon the gorgeous colors of 
 the canvas. He began to adjust the delicate ma 
 chinery of the complex easel, turning a silver 
 screw to regulate the pitch of the heavy canvas, 
 twisting a cogwheel here, a lever there, until he 
 had brought that part of the canvas within reach 
 whereon he expected to work. 
 
 He was one of those modest, dissatisfied young 
 men who can never be content with the work done, 
 perfectly aware of possibilities not yet attained, 
 willing to try for them, vaguely confident of at 
 taining them; a young man who would go far 
 had gone far farther than he realized. Yet, 
 although the critics were joyously bellowing his 
 praises as the coming man, his work so far had 
 barely given him a living. 
 
 He required great surfaces to cover, and the 
 beauty of the results was apparent in the new 
 268 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 marble library, the Hotel Oneida, the Theater 
 Regent, and the new Brooklyn Academy of Music. 
 Superb color, faultless taste, vigor, delicacy all 
 were his. The technique that sticks out like dry 
 bones, the spineless lack of construction, fads, 
 pitiful eccentricities to cover inability nothing 
 of these had ever, even in his student days, threat 
 ened him with the pitfall of common disaster. 
 Nor was there in his work the faintest hint of 
 physical weakness nothing unwholesome, smug, 
 suggestive nothing sugary, nothing insincerely 
 brutal; perhaps because he was a very normal 
 young man, inclined to normal pleasures, and 
 worldly enough to conform to the civilized code 
 outside the barriers of which genius is popularly 
 supposed to pasture. 
 
 And still, with all this, he had been paid so little 
 for his work heretofore, and to produce his work 
 had cost him so much in materials and in model 
 and studio hire, that he scarcely knew how to make 
 both ends meet in the most cruelly expensive 
 metropolis of all the world. 
 
 For the first time, when approached by Thome, 
 he had dared name a price for his work which 
 might give him a decent profit when the last brush 
 stroke was laid on; and, while Thome s big new 
 house slowly rose, stone on stone, overlooking the 
 269 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 Park, he had worked on the frieze of life-size fig 
 ures two hundred in all which was to complete 
 the golden ballroom with an exquisite, springlike 
 garland of youth and loveliness. 
 
 He had accepted Thome s cut-throat, cast-iron 
 contract with the deadly time clause; he had used 
 up every second of time, shirking nothing, spar 
 ing no expense; making life-size study after 
 study, scintillating with a cleverness that would 
 not only have satisfied but turned the heads of 
 ninety-nine painters in a hundred. But he was 
 the hundredth. 
 
 He had given himself just time to complete his 
 work and say : " I can do no better. I have done 
 all that was in me." But, though he had foreseen 
 trouble and delay from models, and the dozens of 
 vexations artists fall heir to, he could not have 
 foreseen that a young girl he never heard of 
 should, at a critical moment, bring out a side of 
 Thome s character he did not suspect existed in 
 him the sharp, ugly brutality of wounded ar 
 rogance, which vents itself where opportunity 
 offers ; the fiercely sullen desire to hurt, to stamp 
 its power upon those who have no defense. 
 
 And now, with the entire frieze all but com 
 pleted, the man had suddenly snarled at him for 
 no reason on earth save a willingness to crush and 
 270 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 dominate. There was not a day of grace named 
 in the contract; there was no grace to be ex 
 pected from Thome, who cared no more for the 
 frieze that hid part of his golden-lacquered panel 
 ing than for the gilded sconces below. If one or 
 the other did not suit him, he d tear them out 
 without a word and cover the raw space with ten 
 thousand dollars worth of hothouse roses for 
 his housewarming. Leeds understood that. He 
 was beginning to appreciate the man. He must 
 try to beat him. 
 
 He stood there confronting his defaced picture, 
 examining it as keenly as a physician might in 
 spect an interesting phase of human misfortune, 
 pondering the remedy. And, as he stood, silent, 
 preoccupied, his telephone bell rang, and he 
 stepped to the receiver. 
 
 " Hello ! Is this the Models League? " 
 
 " Yes, James Leeds. Yes, I wanted a model 
 with red hair, if possible, and good limbs." 
 
 " Well, that can t be helped. Send any model 
 as close to Miss Clancey s type as you can. Send 
 her now. She s to take a cab. I m in a desperate 
 hurry." 
 
 271 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " Yes, Miss Clancej is ill. I want a girl of her 
 type, but don t waste time hunting. Send me 
 
 somebody at once." 
 
 . . . 
 
 "All right. . . . Good-by!" 
 
 He hung up the receiver, walked back to 
 his canvas, and began to set a huge ivory-faced 
 palette table, squeezing out tube after tube of 
 color, rainbow fashion, ending in a curly mass of 
 silver white. Then he uncorked a jar of turpen 
 tine, filled a bowl with it, and began searching 
 among twisted tubes and scrapers for an ivory 
 palette knife, whistling thoughtfully the while. 
 
 A slight sound behind one of the great screens 
 attracted his attention, and he glanced up. Noth 
 ing stirred. He sorted some paint rags, and 
 picked up a bottle of drying medium. As he held 
 it to the light, again a sudden sound came from 
 the screen ; he turned squarely, surprised, and the 
 same instant a girl stepped out and raised a pair 
 of very lovely and frightened eyes to his. 
 
 "Do you want a model?" she asked sweetly, 
 but unsteadily. " Because, if you do " 
 
 " Good Heavens ! " he said, exasperated. " Have 
 you been behind that screen all this* time while 
 I ve been telephoning for a model?" 
 
 " Ye-s. I I came in. I heard you." 
 272 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 "But why didn t you come out? Why on 
 earth " 
 
 " I think I was a trifle frightened." 
 
 " Oh ! . . . I see . . . you have never before 
 posed?" 
 
 " Never. I I really have not made up my 
 mind to pose now. I suppose I had better do 
 do something. I ve the fact is, I ve got to do 
 something to earn my living." 
 
 She was red-haired, white-skinned, blue-eyed, 
 shod and gloved to perfection, and plainly scared. 
 He looked at her from head to foot. 
 
 " As a matter of fact," he said, delighted, " you 
 are a sort of God-sent miracle. Whether you 
 mean to pose or not for a living, I want you to 
 pose for me to-day. Don t be frightened; sit 
 down here in this chair. I m in desperate need of 
 somebody. Won t you help me? " 
 
 She looked at him in breathless silence. 
 
 " Won t you please sit here just a moment? " 
 he said. 
 
 She bent her head a trifle, and moved forward 
 to the offered chair with a grace that claimed his 
 instant and serious attention. But he had no time 
 to wonder or speculate on the reasons -for such a 
 woman with such a presence being in his studio 
 to seek employment; he took a chair opposite, 
 273 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 scrutinizing her fresh young beauty with frank 
 approval. Indeed, he heartily approved of every 
 thing about her the masses of red-gold hair, the 
 lovely azure-tinted eyes, the wonderfully paintable 
 white skin. 
 
 " Your coloring your figure your hands are 
 beautiful," he said slowly. " I can give you all 
 day to-day, and I ll take all the time you can give 
 me to-morrow. You see, that canvas must be fin 
 ished to-day, be dry by to-morrow, and be deliv 
 ered Thursday. Tell me, is it only head and 
 shoulders and costume, or will you pose without 
 drapery for " 
 
 A bright flush stained her face. " I I am not 
 a model ! " she stammered. 
 
 " Not a model," he repeated blankly. " Oh, no, 
 of course not I forgot." 
 
 " Did you do I look like" Words failed her ; 
 she glanced appalled at the canvas, then straight 
 at him, self-possessed again, but paler. 
 
 " I can t help what you think of me," she said. 
 " I am perfectly aware of my indiscretion but 
 your door was open and this this is my hour of 
 need." 
 
 " Certainly," he said, soothingly, " I see " 
 
 " No, you don t see ! I came in here to to 
 hide! By and by I shall go out." She sat up 
 274 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 very straight. " I am determined," she said, " to 
 remain concealed here until I can leave this build 
 ing without annoyance. May I? " She ended so 
 sweetly, so piteously, that Leeds caught his breath 
 in astonishment. 
 
 " So may I stay here for a while? " 
 
 " Well, there s a model coming to pose for that 
 figure if you refuse to pose " 
 
 " Which figure ? " demanded the girl. 
 
 " That one on the left the one that is scraped 
 down." 
 
 " You mean that I couldn t stay here while you 
 painted?" 
 
 " I don t believe you would care to. You 
 wouldn t bother me, but I don t think you d 
 care to." 
 
 " Why ? " The blue eyes met his so purely, so 
 fearlessly, that he gave her a frank and gentle 
 answer. 
 
 " Oh ! Then then hadn t you better dismiss 
 your model for the day ? " she said, " because I ve 
 got to stay." 
 
 " But I can t. The paint on that canvas is 
 exactly in the right condition, neither too wet nor 
 too dry. I ve simply got to use a drier, and paint 
 on it now. That picture must be dry to-morrow." 
 
 "Must it truly?" 
 
 275 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " It certainly must ! " 
 
 The girl rose, stood for a moment nervously 
 twisting her veil up over her hat ; then : " But I 
 can t go ! You don t understand. I ve I ve run 
 away ! " 
 
 "Run away! From whom?" 
 
 " Somebody," she said vaguely, looking about 
 the room. Suddenly he remembered the story 
 McManus told. And he spoke of it, watching her 
 curiously. 
 
 " Exactly," she said, nodding her pretty head, 
 while the tint of excitement deepened on her 
 cheeks, " I ran away from him ! You know who 
 I am, don t you? You know my sister, any 
 how." 
 
 She hesitated, searching his face; then im 
 pulsively : " I usually decide all matters very 
 quickly ! " She made an impatient little gesture 
 and seated herself, looking up at him with bright 
 eyes and heightened color : " For three months I ve 
 stood it " 
 
 "Stood what?" 
 
 " Being engaged. I had not really thought 
 much about it we re usually indifferent and obe 
 dient in my family and no doubt I d have gone 
 on and married just as my sisters have if some 
 thing had not happened." She dropped her head, 
 276 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 looking thoughtfully at the floor. Then : " I sim 
 ply could not stand him, Mr. Leeds; I woke up 
 this morning, understanding that I couldn t marry 
 him. I was so excited and dreadfully afraid of 
 telling him and I was so sorry for my mother, 
 but I couldn t do it ; I knew that, and it was time 
 he knew, too. 
 
 " So I told my mother, and there was trouble, 
 and I went out and found a cab and drove here 
 as fast as I could, and I said : Mr. Thorne, I 
 cannot do it ! You know what I said. That 
 Irishman told you 
 
 Leeds nodded. 
 
 " So that s all ; I simply ran away from him ; 
 and I won t go home and live on my mother, be 
 cause we are as poor as mice and rabbits, and if 
 I don t marry Mr. Thorne my mother will prob 
 ably expire of mortification, and if I don t marry 
 at all by Monday next, I ll lose what my grand 
 father left me in a horrid will, which forces me 
 to marry before I m twenty-one and that s next 
 Monday. All my sisters did it Mrs. Egerton, 
 and Mrs. Clay-Dwyning, and another you don t 
 know. But I won t, I won t, / won t ! And my 
 mother will probably starve unless I earn our liv 
 ing, so I d better begin at once." 
 
 " I think you had, too," said Leeds gravely. 
 277 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " Oh, I thought of that when I was running 
 away from Mr. Thorne; and when he came up in 
 one elevator, I came down; and when he came 
 down I went up, and I turned into the first cor 
 ridor I saw, and entered somebody s office and shut 
 the door. 
 
 " A man came to ask me what I wanted. And 
 I asked him if he required a stenographer, and he 
 said he did very offensively so I marched out 
 and walked about the hallways trying to find my 
 way out. Then I heard Mr. Thome s voice on 
 the stairs, and I opened your door and hid. And 
 before I had courage to leave, you came and 
 talked and talked with that Irishman. And now 
 what am I to do? You know who I am, and you 
 know my sisters or you did once, before you 
 went abroad to study for they ve told me they 
 knew you at Narragansett when you were a boy 
 of twelve." 
 
 " Are you their little sister, Naida? " he asked 
 curiously, when she stopped, clean out of breath, 
 flushed and fascinating in her consternation. 
 
 " Yes ; I m Naida. Do you really remember 
 me? I wish I could be civil and say the same to 
 you, but I don t, Mr. Leeds, though since every 
 body says you are a very great artist, I pretend 
 I do know you, and I say : Oh, yes, James Leeds ; 
 278 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 he was such a jolly fellow when he was a boy at 
 Narragansett ! 
 
 " But I m careful not to tell them that I was 
 so little that you never even looked at me, or that 
 I was so young I couldn t remember you. Oh, 
 dear, what frauds we all are! And here I am, 
 compromising myself and not caring, after having 
 driven my mother distracted, jilted my fiance, and 
 beggared myself. I think I d better pose for you." 
 
 "Will you?" 
 
 " Why, coward that I am, I don t want to face 
 the consequences of my own deeds. But I won t go 
 back after smashing the finances so dreadfully." 
 
 " Suppose you help me a little, then. And 
 while you re helping me to avert financial ruin 
 we ll talk of your future," he said laughingly. 
 
 She looked up quickly. " I heard what you and 
 that Irishman were saying. Are you truly in 
 trouble about your picture ? " 
 
 " All kinds of trouble," he assented. 
 
 " Could I really help you? " 
 
 " Indeed you could." 
 
 " Of course, I would compromise myself, 
 wouldn t I?" she asked innocently. "I ve been 
 doing it all day, haven t I? " 
 
 He sat there perplexed, fascinated, watching 
 her in silence. 
 
 19 279 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 She shrugged her pretty shoulders. A rather 
 valuable fur stole slipped down to the floor, and 
 he picked it up and sat smoothing it and watch 
 ing the exquisite color wane and deepen in her 
 cheeks. 
 
 The telephone rang. He rose and set the re 
 ceiver to his ear. 
 
 " No, that model won t do. You need not send 
 anybody now ; I have exactly the model I require. 
 Good-by." 
 
 Turning to her he said : " You heard me say 
 that I needed no model. Will you help me now? 
 This is an hour of direst need with me." 
 
 i_i don t know " 
 
 " Will you? If you will, I will promise to help 
 you not to become an artist s model ; that is silly. 
 But I promise you, on my honor, that you shall 
 have an offer which no woman need refuse; an 
 offer suitable and honorable, where you may en 
 joy absolute independence and freedom from all 
 annoyance, live your own life freely, without tax 
 ing your mother s resources, and without care or 
 dread of importunities from anybody attempting 
 to marry you. Will you? " 
 
 " If if you could do that for me I d be grate 
 ful enough to do anything for you," she said 
 slowly. 
 
 280 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 The Ghost of Chance sat watching them. His 
 job was nearly ended. 
 
 A curious exhilaration, a gayety rather foreign 
 to Leeds s nature, took possession of him. He 
 lifted a beautiful garment, all stiff with turquoise 
 and gold, and held it toward her. He laid two 
 jeweled sandals at her feet, pulled a table to the 
 screen, and opened a box full of glittering gilded 
 articles. 
 
 There was color enough in her face now, flood 
 ing it from brow to throat. 
 
 " Won t you help me ? " he asked. " It is ruin 
 for me if you don t." 
 
 She searched his face. There was nothing in 
 the eyes that a woman might not look upon, might 
 not meet with a smile, might not respond to. She 
 measured him in breathless silence, red lips parted. 
 He was her own kind. 
 
 "Will you?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Then excitement transfigured him. She scarcely 
 knew his face, lighted into quick enthusiasm. 
 
 " Never, never, have I had such a model ! " he 
 cried, delighted as a boy. " Never have I seen such 
 color, such exquisite loveliness. Good Heavens ! 
 A man might really paint with you before him! 
 Don t don t look at me that way don t be 
 281 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 frightened. I m simply astonished at my fortune 
 I don t mean to be rude you know I don t ! " 
 
 " Yes, I know it," she said tremulously. 
 
 " May I suggest how you should tie the san 
 dals?" 
 
 " Am I to to be barefooted? " 
 
 " With sandals, you know, and that gorgeous 
 gold and blue Byzantine robe hung straight from 
 the shoulders ! Everything is here. I ll step out 
 and smoke a cigarette. Will you knock when you 
 are ready ? " 
 
 She nodded, looking down at the crumpled heaps 
 of gold and turquoise stuff. 
 
 Enchanted he saw her raise her pretty arms and 
 begin to unpin her hat, with its floating veil. Then 
 he went out. 
 
 For half an hour he walked the resounding cor 
 ridor, smoking madly. Once or twice he doubted 
 her half convinced that she meant to lock him 
 out and the idea scared him. But at last a low 
 knocking on the inside of the door summoned him ; 
 he entered, blinking in the flood of light after the 
 darkness of the hallway, and the vision was revealed 
 slowly to his dazzled eyes. 
 
 White a trifle too pale ; her eyes burned 
 like azure stars under the gold-red glory of 
 her hair, which fell in two loose, heavy braids 
 282 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 straight down, framing her body from shoulders 
 to hips. The rounded throat, the white arms 
 glimmering along the seams of the blue and golden 
 robe, the sandals accenting the snowy feet and 
 in her eyes the straight, fearless gaze of a child- 
 left him mute, stunned, utterly spellbound, over 
 whelmed by a magic that sometimes wears another 
 name. 
 
 She did not need to ask his criticism. The faint 
 rose color came into her face again slowly. 
 
 She turned and mounted the model stand with 
 out a word, seating herself in the carved marble 
 chair ; and, glancing at the painted figure, let her 
 arms fall in harmony with the drawing. Then 
 she placed one little sandal-shod foot upon the 
 silken cushion at her feet. When she looked 
 up, with a pale smile, he had already begun to 
 paint. 
 
 His hand, not steady at first for a new emotion 
 had given him new eyes became steadier. Mag 
 nificent tints and hues grew upon the canvas, stiff 
 gold folds and creases shimmered, framing the 
 snowy contours of perfect arms. 
 
 The glory of hair, the wonder of wide azure- 
 tinted eyes, the lips full scarlet, all took color 
 and loveliness as his brushes flew. And into the 
 picture came something else a joyousness, a tint 
 283 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 of youth and freshness, and something subtle, 
 indefinable. 
 
 And now he seemed to hold the whole power of 
 the world in his grasp. The color-wet point of 
 every brush hovered, then left its message of 
 beauty on an enchanted canvas. Power was his ; 
 he dominated; he could do anything, achieve any 
 thing with her before him. Difficulties? There 
 were none. He had but to wet a brush with purest 
 tints, look her in the eyes, and the thing was 
 wrought. 
 
 Twice she rested. He said nothing, nor did she, 
 and, when she was ready, he went on. But already 
 the work was done finished ! He lingered over it, 
 thrilled, touching it here and there fearlessly, with 
 the silent certainty of mastery. 
 
 At last he lay back on his chair, and the arm 
 supporting his palette dropped to his side. 
 
 " Won t you have mercy ? " she asked in a low 
 voice. 
 
 " Are you tired ? Oh, I am so sorry ! " he cried, 
 springing to his feet. 
 
 She rose. He held out his hand. She laid hers 
 on his arm and descended. 
 
 " You are terribly tired ! " he said anxiously, al 
 most tenderly. 
 
 " No but I am a little hungry." 
 284 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 He dragged out his watch. " Good Lord ! It s 
 four almost dark ! " he cried. " What a a 
 beast I am ! I must be crazy ! " 
 
 She stood smiling beside him, looking curiously 
 at the picture in the fading light. 
 
 " Am I as as glorious as that ! " she said under 
 her breath. It was not a question, besides he 
 scarcely dared answer, for the magic was thick 
 about him. 
 
 " Do you know," she said slowly, " there is some 
 thing in that canvas that I have never before 
 seen?" 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " The the eyes you have given me as though 
 I had just opened them on paradise." 
 
 " They are like yours." 
 
 " But I I never saw paradise. What a heav 
 enly beauty you have given me. My soul was never 
 as untroubled as is hers the lovely, snowy, golden 
 saint you have raised up on my shadow. What 
 eyes do you see with to work such miracles ? " 
 
 " You are the miracle. I never painted like that 
 until you came." 
 
 She turned to look at him. And, perhaps, the 
 magic light was strong enough to dazzle her, too, 
 for she thought there was something in his eyes 
 that he had painted into hers upon the canvas. 
 285 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 For a little while they stood silent. Then she 
 raised her head. " And now? " she questioned. 
 
 "Now?" 
 
 "Yes. What am I to do?" 
 
 He gazed at her blankly. " You are not going 
 away?" 
 
 " Your picture is finished." 
 
 " Yes, but where are you going ? " 
 
 " Where ? " She pressed her white hand over 
 her brow. "I I don t exactly know. I I 
 thought you had a plan 
 
 " As long as you have run away," he began 
 slowly " 
 
 " Yes ? And as long as I have done all the dread 
 ful things I have done. Go on ! " 
 
 " All those dreadful things " 
 
 " Yes ; all those common horrid things. Go on." 
 
 " I I think " 
 
 Yes " 
 
 " That we that we might further degrade our 
 selves by 
 
 Yes go on ! " 
 
 " By taking tea together." 
 
 "Do you think so?" 
 
 " I do," he said solemnly. 
 
 She reflected for a moment. " But what after 
 that?" 
 
 286 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 " We must consider the situation at the tea 
 table," he said gravely. " We ll go out as soon as 
 you can change your gown. And is there any 
 likelihood of our jumping any of your family if we 
 go to Sherry s?" 
 
 " I ll risk it," she said slowly. 
 " Then," and he smiled at her through a rosy 
 light which really didn t exist, " then I ll go out 
 and smoke until you are ready." 
 
 And he did, no longer tormented with the fears 
 of being locked out, and presently she opened the 
 door and stood a moment on the threshold, looking 
 at him. 
 
 " I wonder," she said, " if ever a girl has done 
 as mad a thing as I have to-day ? " 
 
 She stepped out and closed the door behind 
 her. 
 
 " Listen," she said ; " a thousand dreadful ques 
 tions are on my lips tortured pride refuses to 
 ask for mercy but oh, I do care to know what 
 you think of me ! " 
 
 He told her as much as he dared tell, haltingly, 
 stammering under the enchantment thickening 
 always around them. 
 
 YOU you think that? " 
 
 " More. May shall I say " 
 
 " Not not now." 
 
 287 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 Dazed, their young heads turned, they descended 
 the marble steps together. 
 
 Elevator boys, hall servants, the gorgeous por 
 ter in his green and gilt livery, stared at the run 
 away. She passed them, head high. 
 
 " There is going to be a great deal of trouble 
 about nothing, I fear," she said softly, as they 
 walked out into Fifth Avenue. 
 
 " I fear so," he mused. 
 
 " You you will probably be evicted by Mr. 
 Thorne when the porter tells him where I ve been." 
 
 " Probably," he smiled. 
 
 " Where will you go when you are evicted? " 
 
 " Where are you going? " 
 
 She glanced at him sweetly. " To tea with 
 you." 
 
 " And after that? " he asked unsteadily. 
 
 But she pretended not to hear him, repeating, 
 " To tea with the great artist, Mr. Leeds. Oh, you 
 are surprised that I know how great you are? Did 
 you think I didn t know? Dear me, don t my sis 
 ters talk of you as though our family discovered 
 you?" 
 
 " That settles it then," he said, enchanted. 
 
 " What settles what, if you please ? " 
 
 " My status. I m one of your family and en 
 titled to advise you." 
 
 288 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 A moment later two flushed young people en 
 tered Sherry s, utterly oblivious of cloak rooms, 
 bellboys, and butlers, and instinctively chose a 
 remote table secluded in a corner, banked high with 
 verdure. 
 
 They may have had tea. They were so absorbed 
 in talking to each other that they not only paid 
 no attention to what they ordered, but did not 
 notice whether they had eaten anything or not, 
 when the early winter night found them on Fifth 
 Avenue once more, strolling slowly uptown, ab 
 sorbed in one another to the exclusion of time and 
 similar unimportant trifles. 
 
 She was saying in that full-throated sweet voice, 
 pitched a trifle lower than the roar of traffic, " Yes, 
 I do trust you. I have been horrid and common 
 and silly to go dashing around that trust company, 
 but you are perfectly lovely to understand, and 
 I ll do exactly what you tell me to do except " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Oh you wouldn t ask me that ! " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " To to marry him " 
 
 " Good God," he breathed. 
 
 After a silence he said : " I have promised you 
 an offer. But first you must go back as though 
 nothing had happened." 
 
 289 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " Yes, I will. There s no use in my going to a 
 hotel like a silly, romantic creature, and starting 
 out to look for work in the morning. Besides, my 
 mother would be frantic and call up the police. 
 Besides, I haven t enough money to really run 
 away ; I have only a dollar and some pennies." 
 
 " Home is the place for you," he said, laughing 
 under his breath. " When am I to come to tell you 
 about my plan for you ? " 
 
 " You d better hurry," she said sincerely. " I ll 
 probably lose courage and be bullied into some 
 thing or other if you don t." 
 
 " May I come to-morrow ? " 
 
 " No ; there s a luncheon I don t dare cut out, 
 and in the evening there s a dance at the Carring- 
 tons . Do you do you ever go about? I go to 
 the Lanarks dance to-night " 
 
 " I was asked to that dance, too " 
 
 "Oh!" she cried enraptured, " will you come? 
 Please please! If you don t, I won t go. Mr. 
 Thorne will be there, and between mamma and 
 him I ll be driven into something before I know 
 it. Will you?" 
 
 " Yes, I will. And I ll do more," he added under 
 his breath ; " I ll lay that offer before you." 
 
 " That will be perfectly delightful! You won t 
 fail, will you? And " she paused at the door of 
 290 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 her own house and gave him a small gloved hand 
 " and I want to tell you how happy I am to have 
 helped you, and how glad I am that you are able 
 to keep to that wicked contract, and that I have 
 had a perfectly lovely time, and I shall never 
 never forget how nice you have been even if I have 
 behaved like a brainless ninny. And I am so glad 
 you don t think me as horrid as I seemed to be. I 
 was reckless for the first time in my life, and did 
 all those desperate things because I ve been I ve 
 been a trifle unhappy." 
 
 And so he left her, the door opening to engulf 
 her, she turning her pretty head to nod to him as 
 it closed. And he went away soberly, walking up 
 the dark avenue under the flaring electric lights, 
 absorbed, almost stunned, by what had come so 
 suddenly into a life that, but a few hours since, 
 had seemed to him too full, too complete, to hold 
 anything except the love he bore for his profession. 
 
 He dined at the club where he lived, read the 
 evening papers, scarcely conscious of what he was 
 reading, then went upstairs to his room, sat a long 
 while on the bed s edge, staring at vacancy, and 
 finally lay down, closing his eyes. The Ghost of 
 Chance stood by the bed a moment, considering 
 his victim. 
 
 Hour after hour he lay there, thinking as clearly 
 291 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 as the tumult in his breast permitted. Later he 
 bathed, dressed very carefully, and, descending, 
 climbed into a hansom. 
 
 " I ve a ghost of a chance," he muttered. 
 " Thorne told me to take it once, and his advice 
 was good. Now, I ll try it again for I have got 
 a ghost of a chance again, and I ll take that chance 
 to-night ! " 
 
 And so he came to the great house of the La- 
 narkses, overlooking the wintry park, and he 
 climbed out of his humble hansom amid the cluster 
 ing clatter of the rich and great and agreeable, 
 and entered the house which he might not have 
 troubled himself to enter, had a young girl with 
 red hair and wonderful blue eyes not asked 
 him. 
 
 After drifting about in the scented crush for 
 half an hour, he caught a glimpse of her sur 
 rounded by a dozen men, among them a diplomat 
 or two, and several attaches ; and now, with the 
 intention of claiming her, he marked her down in 
 the glittering throng as carefully as he might 
 have marked a flushed quail in a thicket of golden 
 willow. 
 
 But when, pressing his way through barriers 
 of black coats and threading half an acre of 
 rustling silk and lace, he found the spot where he 
 292 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 had expected to find her, she was no longer there ; 
 only the red fez of the Turkish Ambassador, nod 
 ding affably above the press, indicated that he 
 had reached the spot upon the floor that he had 
 aimed at. 
 
 Glancing up at the gilded musicians gallery 
 to verify his bearings, he struck a circle, as he 
 would have done in the woods, and presently came 
 across young Terriss, who was also in love with 
 her but Leeds did not know that. 
 
 "Thome took her off," said Terriss sullenly. 
 " They re in the conservatory. By the way, I 
 didn t know you knew her." 
 
 " I do," growled Leeds. 
 
 " That pasty-white Russian prince, the fellow 
 with a fat face and a thin nose splitting a brace 
 of eyes too close together " Terriss shrugged his 
 shoulders " he s hanging about, looking for her, 
 too. Her mother steered him off. I suppose it will 
 be announced to-night." 
 
 Leeds saw her mother and recalled himself to 
 her memory, and her mother s cordiality surprised 
 and flattered him until he found he could not get 
 past her to the conservatory. 
 
 Meanwhile the musicians were playing away 
 madly. He attempted to dodge her, affably ex 
 plaining that it was his dance with her daughter. 
 293 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " But Naida is not in here," said her mother, 
 carefully riding him off. 
 
 " Terriss said " 
 
 " Doubtless," continued her mother cheerfully, 
 " Naida is waiting for you with Constance. Do 
 you remember my daughter Constance? If you 
 take me across, Mr. Leeds, we can find Naida." 
 
 Steered off, vaguely aware of too much sweet 
 ness in the matron s guileless smile, he looked back 
 and beheld the girl he was seeking emerging from 
 the thicket of palms with Thorne, followed by a 
 heavy and very white young man, with rings on 
 his fingers and under his eyes. 
 
 The girl looked at Leeds as though she had never 
 before seen him. For a moment, as he instinctively 
 stepped forward, they faced one another in silence. 
 Then a faint recognition animated her eyes. She 
 looked at Thorne, at the Russian, at her mother, 
 then, as Leeds said a conventional but decisive word 
 or two, she smiled, laid one hand on his shoulder 
 as he encircled her waist with his right arm, nod 
 ded at her mother, and glided off into the glit 
 ter with a man who danced well enough to leave 
 her indifferent and occupied with her own re 
 flections. 
 
 How long she had been dancing with him she 
 did not know, nor care, when his voice roused her 
 294 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 from a meditation that had left her red mouth 
 sullen and her eyebrows bent. 
 
 "What did you say?" she asked. "I beg 
 your pardon " 
 
 " Nothing. I wondered whether you were bored ? 
 I dance pretty well, you know." 
 
 " You dance very well. Do I look bored ? " 
 
 " You certainly do." 
 
 " I am." 
 
 They swung out through the center of the per 
 fumed crush a little recklessly, but with sufficient 
 skill. 
 
 " I wish you would look at me once," he said. 
 " What has happened since we parted ? " 
 
 She raised her eyes, amused. " The inevitable. 
 I couldn t escape." 
 
 " I can t give you up yet to your own reflec 
 tions," he said. " You dance too perfectly. What 
 do you mean by the inevitable ? " 
 
 " Oh, it is not you or the dancing that I meant ! 
 You must not mind me ; I am likely to say anything 
 to-night." 
 
 "Anything?" 
 
 " Absolutely anything to anybody." She raised 
 her eyes again to his face. It was a cleanly mod 
 eled countenance, rather lean not at all like 
 Thome s or Prince Minksky s. 
 20 295 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 A vague feeling of being at home again after 
 a foreign tour came over her, a comfortable 
 sensation, lasting for a second time enough 
 to contrast his amiable features with the fea 
 tures of the man she had been with in the con 
 servatory. 
 
 Constantly passing dancers nodded to them, ex 
 changed a word or two or a brief smile Terriss 
 with a pretty girl who called her Naida, the Brit 
 ish third secretary, very gay in his greeting, doz 
 ens and dozens, all whirling by ; and through the 
 brilliant glare, the scented breezy wavering scene, 
 Leeds guided the girl with the ruddy gold hair and 
 the sulky mouth sulky, for she was preoccupied 
 again, oblivious of all in her perfect grace and 
 poise, swinging where he led, as easily, as uncon 
 sciously as a wind-blown bird floating half asleep 
 in the flow of the upper air. 
 
 " If you are really too much bored," he 
 breathed 
 
 She looked up disturbed. " I told you it was 
 not you. You don t bore me. You don t know 
 me well enough." 
 
 " Is there no chance that I might know you 
 better?" 
 
 " No, no chance." 
 
 "May I try it?" 
 
 296 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 Her beautiful brows unbent. " Why, yes, try 
 it ; but I am not worth the effort." 
 
 " Very well. For this evening you and I will 
 speak the absolute and unvarnished truth; shall 
 we? You may ask me whatever you care to ; I will 
 ask you. Dare you ? " 
 
 She had shaken her head first, but at the word 
 " dare " her indifference changed to a slight 
 amusement. 
 
 " Oh, I dare anything to-night," she said. 
 " What question am I to answer? " 
 
 "Is it a bargain that we tell the truth?" he 
 persisted. 
 
 " Certainly, if it amuses you. It won t amuse 
 me." 
 
 " And I may venture to be cheerfully imperti 
 nent? " 
 
 She nodded, smiling. 
 
 " Then tell me why you asked me to come to this 
 dance?" 
 
 She hesitated. A little more color crept into her 
 face. 
 
 " Am I to answer truthfully? " 
 
 " You promised." 
 
 Then her entire personality changed with an im 
 pulse as illogical, as sudden as any caprice that 
 ever swept over a heart too young to bear bitterness. 
 297 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " I asked you," she said, " to come because 
 because I was happy with you to-day. But now 
 now it is too late. I am for sale once more. 
 . . . Will you buy me ? " 
 
 " Willingly," he returned, amazed but smil 
 ing. 
 
 " Too late," she said, looking up ; "I have sold 
 myself." 
 
 They were on the outer edge of the whirl now. 
 Her hand slid from his shoulder, and she stepped 
 back, flushed, brilliant-eyed, perfectly self-pos 
 sessed. 
 
 " Thank you for offering to purchase," she 
 laughed, looking him straight in the face. " Shall 
 we finish the dance? I am ready." 
 
 " Let me see your card," he said coolly. She 
 held out the cluster of ivory and gold filigree for 
 his inspection. 
 
 " I thought you had undertaken to amuse me," 
 she observed. " I didn t bargain to amuse you." 
 Her blue eyes were too brilliant, her color almost 
 feverish now. 
 
 " I am going to," he said. " But I warn you, 
 you may not like it." 
 
 " Try. Perhaps I may." 
 
 " I m going to rub out these names," he said, 
 watching her. 
 
 298 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 " That will be deliciously rude and impertinent. 
 Do it. Can you think of anything else? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " he said, filling in the card with his 
 own name. 
 
 " Let me see," she breathed, looking over his 
 shoulder. " Delightful ! Why, what you have 
 done is exquisitely indecent, and will certainly in 
 volve us both in everything unpleasant. Now, 
 what else are you going to do? " 
 
 " That sale," he reflected " you remember? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " 
 
 " It s canceled." 
 
 " No, it isn t," she said with a laugh ending in 
 a little check. " But you may compromise me if 
 you if you can manage it. I ll flirt with you if 
 you can keep the others off." 
 
 "I ll do my best," he said, looking at her, 
 scarcely knowing what he was saying. " You 
 danced too well for me to let you go when I bored 
 you; now that I don t, do you think I shall let 
 you go ? " 
 
 She was on the verge of something laughter 
 or tears. He felt it, yet knew that she would not 
 pass the verge. 
 
 " Now I have amused you a little," he said, 
 " will you sit out the rest of this dance with 
 me?" 
 
 299 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " How can I help it ? Your name has replaced 
 the others." 
 
 He erased his name, and, from memory, filled in 
 the other names in sequence. Then pocketing the 
 tablets, he said airily : " Technically, I recover my 
 self-respect but, there s a second conservatory 
 beyond this one where I may lose yours." 
 
 " I hope it is dark," she said calmly. 
 
 " It is. We ll go to the farthest corner." 
 
 Passing through palms and tree ferns, they 
 heard the music behind them cease ; and they moved 
 a trifle more quickly. 
 
 " It s locked," he said. 
 
 " I don t care. Unlock it." 
 
 He turned the key. They entered. A few elec 
 tric bulbs glimmered here and there, gilding thick 
 ets of blossoms. There were no chairs to be found, 
 and he had started to return for them, when she 
 called his attention to a green bench under a mass 
 of flowering vines, and, seating herself, looked up 
 at him expectantly. 
 
 " Now," he said, as he took his place beside her, 
 " you may tell me anything or nothing, as you 
 please. You are terribly excited I m rather ex 
 cited, too. Every normal man is always reckless ; 
 every normal woman is, once in a lifetime. It s a 
 crisis ; you ve reached it. I m a decent sort of fel- 
 300 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 low safer than the next man, maybe. And now 
 I m keyed up, ready to listen, ready to talk, seri 
 ously or frivolously ready to make love either 
 way." 
 
 " Make love to me, seriously? " she said gayly. 
 " Ah, but you are safe to say so knowing that 
 I am sold ! " After a moment she looked up : 
 " Why don t you ask me who bought me? " 
 
 " Oh, I know," he nodded. 
 
 " How do you know ? " 
 
 " I saw your face after the bargain." 
 
 The smile on her mouth remained, but he looked 
 away, unable to meet her haunted eyes. 
 
 " Rub out these names," she said suddenly, offer 
 ing to take the card again. And, as he made no 
 movement, she suddenly tore it to pieces in her 
 gloved hands and held the fragments toward him 
 with a miserable little laugh. He took them, re 
 taining her hand in his. 
 
 " You are the prettiest girl in the world," he 
 said lightly. " Shall I tell you more? " 
 
 " Do you know that I am engaged to Mr. 
 Thorne again ? " 
 
 " But I am going to make love to you." 
 
 " But I am really going to marry him on 
 Monday." 
 
 He laughed, looking her in the eyes. 
 301 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " Do you not believe me ? " she asked. 
 
 " No," he said, laughing. 
 
 " But it is true. I have put it off I have 
 waited until the last moment you know what I 
 said to-day " 
 
 Incredulous, smiling, he recovered the hand she 
 had withdrawn. She suffered it to lie in his, look 
 ing at him almost frightened. 
 
 " It is stupid not to believe me," she said. 
 " Can t a man tell when a girl is speaking the 
 truth? I tell you I must marry him on Monday, 
 if I m to get anything from my grandfather 
 
 His hand, holding hers, relaxed; he looked at 
 her uneasily. 
 
 " All my sisters did the same thing," she went 
 on " all hung back until the last moment. Then, 
 like me, deadly tired of the pressure, they gave in 
 in a hurry. I m the youngest and last thank 
 Heaven ! " 
 
 " What is all this? " he demanded. 
 
 " Nothing indolence an idea that I might 
 fall in love, perhaps kept me from marrying. 
 
 Her voice trailed, vaguely reminiscent; she 
 gazed at him with dimmed, speculative eyes, rest 
 ing her chin on one curved wrist, elbow denting 
 her silken knee. 
 
 " If a girl has a fool for a grandfather, 
 302 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 what can she do? And I m tired of the home 
 pressure." 
 
 She bent her head, idly lifting finger after fin 
 ger of the white gloved hand that lay passively in 
 his palm. 
 
 " So there you are," she added ; and, as he said 
 nothing, she went on : " Tuesday, I m twenty-one. 
 Isn t it absurd and dreadful ? But there you are ; 
 I put it off and put it off, vowing and declaring 
 I wouldn t marry just to inherit my part. Mother 
 has wept most of this year ; but I said No ! no ! 
 110 ! and I refused to be the victim of any grand 
 father, and I declined to consider his wishes, or 
 Mr. Thome s." 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders: "But you see? 
 Cupidity at the last moment ! " 
 
 " Whose cupidity? " he asked coolly. 
 
 " Mine," she said, but he knew she was not 
 truthful. 
 
 "That s all right," he observed cheerfully 
 " as long as it was not your family s." And, still 
 smiling, he thought of her mother adroitly block 
 ing his way until the daughter and the merchant 
 had concluded the bargain and patched up a 
 broken truce. 
 
 " It will be one of those married-while-you- 
 wait affairs," she said, watching him ; " travel- 
 303 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 ing clothes and a few of the family. Don t you 
 want to come? You must come ! " she added ; " will 
 you?" 
 
 " I have an idea," he said, with a curious stare, 
 " that I may be present at your wedding." 
 
 " Good ! Come with Jack Terriss and Prince 
 Minsksky." 
 
 " Oh, do you already number me with the Jack 
 Terrisses ? " he drawled. 
 
 " Certainly. Am I not pretty? Wouldn t you 
 kiss me if you could? He always wants to; 
 others have wanted to. Then I number you with 
 the others; they were no more serious than you 
 are." 
 
 " Is it they or you who are not serious ? " he 
 asked. " I think if you gave any of them the 
 chance you have given Thorne " 
 
 " Yes, but I don t love any of them. And Mr. 
 Thorne is inevitable." 
 
 " I see," said Leeds carelessly. " So I am to say 
 to-night : Much happiness ! and other stupid 
 ities. Am I not to say all these things ? " 
 
 " Yes, if you like." 
 
 " But I won t." 
 
 " That would be rude, wouldn t it ? " She looked 
 up at him smiling, yet with something of concern, 
 for he had both her hands now. 
 304 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 " Do you know what I am going to do? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " I am going to make love to you at once." 
 
 " You may ; I m engaged." 
 
 He listened a moment ; the music rang distantly ; 
 somebody was missing a dance with the woman 
 whose gloved hands lay in his. 
 
 " If you are going to marry for pure cupidity, 
 why not take me ? " he asked. " Any man would 
 do for your amiable grandfather and it seems to 
 be all the same to you." 
 
 " I did not know you well enough to ask you," 
 she said audaciously. 
 
 " Would I have done as well as anybody ? " he 
 demanded. 
 
 " Yes, as well for me. Mother prefers the in 
 evitable one." 
 
 " Would I have done better than anybody for 
 you? " he persisted. 
 
 "Must I answer?" 
 
 " Yes ; you have only fibbed once to-night." 
 
 " Then I d rather not answer. Don t 
 don t pretend to be serious. Be as frivolous as you 
 will ; make love to me if you wish only don t pre 
 tend." 
 
 " No, I won t pretend," he said. She looked at 
 305 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 him ; his face caught fire though he strove to speak 
 gayly : " I never believed I should fall in love like 
 this not even when I first met you. You are 
 faultlessly beautiful, with your thick, ruddy-gold 
 hair the hair I painted into my picture and I 
 painted your splendid, innocent eyes, and that 
 scarlet, sulky mouth not sullen then, Naida. 
 Had I known such things were bought and sold I 
 should have bid " 
 
 " Stop," she breathed. 
 
 " But all I should have offered was an ordinary 
 heart and you say that counts nothing against 
 other considerations." 
 
 " Nothing," she said, setting her lips. 
 
 " It counts nothing," he repeated, watching her. 
 
 " Nothing absolutely nothing. Is this how 
 you amuse me? Is this what you call making 
 love?" 
 
 " Partly this," he said, " partly "and he de 
 liberately and unskillfully kissed her " partly 
 this." 
 
 She rose, blushing scarlet, whisking her hands 
 from his. He stood up to confront her, rather 
 white. 
 
 " You are too " she began unsteadily. 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Brutal. I have been kissed before but not 
 306 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 stupidly as you did. It was almost an affront 
 if such a woman as I can be affronted." Cheeks 
 and eyes were ablaze. 
 
 " I told you," he said between lips almost 
 colorless, " that I should speak the truth. I do ; 
 I love you. Can you give me a ghost of a 
 chance? " 
 
 " You are clumsy and silly," she said. " I I 
 was ready for almost anything supposing you 
 were clever enough to carry it all off lightly " 
 
 " I can ; I ve kissed plenty of girls, but only one 
 I ve cared for that s why I was so awkward; I 
 was scared to death. Why on earth did I awake 
 at the eleventh hour to find that I loved you ! " 
 
 " You are imposing on us both," she said calmly. 
 " Besides, I don t believe you ve kissed very many 
 girls. Jack Terriss says you have no use for them 
 except as models." 
 
 " Jack s crazy. Girls ? Why, the girls I ve 
 kissed," he explained blandly, " would fill that ball 
 room " 
 
 " And overflow into this conservatory," she 
 added, quietly curious, yet perfectly convinced now 
 that his experience had been as limited as her own. 
 For she had never before been kissed. 
 
 " If you ll let me show you " he suggested. 
 
 "Show me what?" 
 
 307 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " That I do know how to kiss a girl " 
 
 She looked at him, then sat up straight, strip 
 ping off her gloves. Her face was hot; she used 
 her fan. 
 
 He picked up one of her hands and she de 
 murred, but he held to it with a fascinated 
 determination that made a struggle unreason 
 able. 
 
 " What is the use," she said, " of kissing a girl 
 who is engaged ? No, I will not ! I forbid you ! I 
 please don t do " 
 
 "Do what?" he asked. 
 
 " That ! You have done it twice when I asked 
 you not to." 
 
 " Was I clumsy this time? " 
 
 " Yes ! " 
 
 " Then " 
 
 " No no no ! " Hands locked, she bent back 
 ward, evading him breathlessly, yet looking into 
 his eyes with a curiosity, a fear, and something 
 else that no man had ever seen in her gaze some 
 thing that he saw, and which the scarlet mouth, 
 no longer sulky, tremblingly confirmed. 
 
 There is a chance a ghost of a chance ! " he 
 said, steadying his voice. 
 
 " No no ! There is no chance even if you 
 
 did " 
 
 308 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Love me ! No chance, no ghost of a chance. 
 Release me please I beg you. Oh, won t you 
 listen ? You you must not put your arm around 
 me " 
 
 The struggle was brief ; she strained away from 
 him desperately ; and when he had her closer, she 
 avoided his lips, hiding her face and, as the hid 
 ing place happened to be, by some dreadful mis 
 take, his shoulder, he drew her face upward and 
 kissed her mouth again and again, until her head 
 lay there quietly, eyes closed, wet lashes on her 
 burning cheeks. 
 
 Then he used what voice he could command in 
 a very manly and earnest fashion ; and whether she 
 heeded or whether even she heard was uncertain, 
 for the tears kept her lashes wet, and her hands 
 covered her face. 
 
 This was all very well, particularly when he 
 drew one hand away, and her slim fingers closed 
 convulsively over his. Between them they wrecked 
 her delicate ivory fan, but neither seemed conscious 
 of any loss. 
 
 " Now will you give me a ghost of a chance? " 
 he whispered. 
 
 " I I can t " 
 
 " Look at me, Naida " 
 
 309 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " No." 
 
 " You must. I love you." 
 
 " How can you a girl bought sold " 
 
 " I bid higher, dear." 
 
 " I know my my first kiss. You will not be 
 lieve it of a girl you kissed so easily. But it is 
 I have never before been kissed. But I can t 
 take the price; I m sold You had better kiss 
 me for all the years to come." 
 
 He bent his head ; her eyes unclosed, and, look 
 ing up at him, she put both arms around his neck. 
 
 " You do love me," he breathed. 
 
 She only looked at him. 
 
 "You must!" 
 
 " I might if there was time. How can I have 
 time to love you? " 
 
 " Marry me ; and you shall have years of 
 time." 
 
 " But suppose I found I did not love you, 
 silly?" 
 
 " You would be no worse off than if you married 
 the inevitable." 
 
 Her head lay on his shoulder ; she looked at him 
 reflectively. " Suppose," she said, " suppose I 
 marry neither of you for a while and let that 
 wretched inheritance go ! " 
 
 " For God s sake, let it go ! " he said fiercely. 
 310 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 " Give me a ghost of a chance ; that is all I ask 
 more than I dare hope." 
 
 " And if I loved you in the remote future, 
 would you marry a penniless girl? " 
 
 "Will that penniless girl promise me?" he 
 asked under his breath. 
 
 " No ! " said her mother from the glass door 
 way. And they both stood up. 
 
 " The dishonorable part you have played," con 
 tinued the quivering matron, " matches your lack 
 of the elemental decencies, and your ignorance 
 of the ordinary observances of conventional 
 Fury choked her. 
 
 " I only desire to marry your daughter, 
 madam." 
 
 " Naida ! " 
 
 " Yes, mamma." 
 
 She hesitated, turned to the man beside her, and 
 looked up at him. 
 
 " Good-by," she said ; " don t forget." 
 
 Forget what, silly child? A flirt whom he had 
 so easily kissed in a conservatory ? Why, men find 
 them everywhere and not too difficult. Her first ? 
 Why, some man must be a coquette s first and in 
 her case it happened to be Leeds. 
 
 So she walked slowly to the door, and her mother 
 took her arm, and she looked back at the man 
 21 311 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 standing there, his hands fumbling the shreds of 
 her broken fan. 
 
 " Good night ! " she said ; and to her mother : 
 " You hurt my arm, dear." 
 
 " Are you mad? " hissed that horrified matron. 
 
 " Quite. I told him I was likely to do anything 
 to-night." 
 
 " You have done it ! " 
 
 " I hope so, mother." 
 
 "Hope what?" 
 
 " That I ve made him love me." 
 
 " Merciful Heaven ! What has" She halted, 
 turning her tall daughter to face her. " Is it 
 champagne ? " she demanded. 
 
 " No ; do I look dreadfully mussed ? Oh, well 
 it was my first kiss, you know. One doesn t un 
 derstand how to take it coolly ; I was very awkward 
 and fool enough to cry. My head aches. I 
 fancy I look perfectly disreputable. Mother, will 
 you there he is now! will you please keep off 
 your Thornes and your Russians until I can es 
 cape? I will be in the dressing room quite ready 
 to go, mother dear." 
 
 " Naida," she said, her voice trembling, " I tell 
 you now that if you are actually in love " 
 
 "Yes, dear?" 
 
 " If you are, don t consider my my wishes " 
 
 312 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 "About Mr. Thorne?" 
 
 " About anybody even a man disreputable 
 enough to kiss you " 
 
 " Any man to save my inheritance, mother ? " 
 
 " Any eligible man, we decided." 
 
 " Then it s got to be somebody ? " 
 
 " It has, little daughter unless we re a pair of 
 fools!" 
 
 " Well, then if it s to be a man, I think I 
 
 think " She turned and looked back into the 
 
 long conservatories. But what she thought she 
 did not utter, for at that moment the Russian 
 spied her and came up palled and speechlessly 
 fierce. And she took his arm very sweetly. 
 
 " Now we ll dance until daylight if you desire," 
 she said, heading him off in the midst of an aston 
 ished inquiry concerning her disappearance. " I 
 think we had better have the j oiliest time we can 
 while it lasts. Because," she added pensively, 
 " I may run away from everybody some day. I m 
 quite likely to do anything, you know ; am I not, 
 mother?" 
 
 His alarm was so genuine that she threw back 
 her head and laughed the most delicious and care 
 free laugh he had ever heard from her. 
 
 " Ah ! It iss a pleasantry ! " he said, inexpres 
 sibly relieved. 
 
 313 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 " Of course," she said gayly. " I shall keep my 
 legacy and marry somebody you or Thome or 
 somebody. Therefore, monsieur, I require sleep; 
 therefore " she dropped his arm and a courtesy 
 at the same time " adieu, monsieur." 
 
 " So soon, mademoiselle ! " 
 
 " None too soon, monsieur. Mother ! If you 
 are ready? The prince is waiting to make his 
 adieus." 
 
 An hour later her mother kissed her good night 
 with the humble and modest conviction that she 
 had done well by every daughter, and had garnered 
 every penny with which that miserable will had 
 tantalized her so long. 
 
 " Good night, Naida," she said affectionately. 
 " De Peyster is a lovable fellow. If you can t love 
 him you can t love anybody." 
 
 " I don t know ; I ll see how I sleep, mother." 
 
 "What do you mean, Naida?" she asked 
 anxiously. 
 
 " That s just it I don t know exactly what I 
 do mean. But I ll know if I don t sleep. Good 
 night, mother. If I am not in my room in the 
 morning you will know I have married some 
 body." 
 
 " You you wouldn t do " 
 
 " Oh, you know I am likely to do anything ! I 
 314 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 wish I could guess what it is to be the next thing 
 I am destined to do." 
 
 She turned over in her great white bed, bury 
 ing her hot cheeks in the pillow. She heard her 
 mother leave the room; then her maid tiptoeing 
 about, and presently the click of the electric but 
 ton. She opened her eyes in darkness, and lying 
 there fell a-thinking of the ghost of a chance a 
 man had lost forever or was it the man who had 
 lost it ? Was it not the maid after all ? 
 
 " Men kiss pretty women when they can," she 
 reasoned, raising her hands to her heated cheeks. 
 " He meant nothing that he will not forget this 
 time next month. ... So that is how it feels to 
 be kissed! And I sniveled. . . . dear me! 
 
 " Still if I had only had time I could have 
 made him love me I think. . . . But artists are 
 notoriously inconstant. . . . and usually very 
 poor. If I I could have married him, I should 
 have felt morally obliged to bring him something. 
 So there you are; I didn t know he was like that 
 or I might have hunted him up and given him 
 a chance a year ago. . . . Why didn t he take it ? 
 He it is impossible he could suddenly love me 
 now at the last moment, when it s too late. . . . 
 And I suppose it was abominable of him to have 
 kissed me. . . . And he did it so frequently. . . . 
 315 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 As a matter of fact, I, lying here, am a thoroughly 
 kissed girl. . . . And I m shamelessly indifferent 
 to his guilt and mine. So I think I ll sleep a 
 little. . . ." 
 
 But she couldn t. 
 
 " If I really find that I can t sleep," she said 
 softly to herself, " I m likely to do almost any 
 thing. I wonder whether he is asleep." 
 
 He was not; he was seated in a rather small, 
 dark, and chilly room not half a mile uptown. 
 Jaws set, chin on his clenched fist, looking into the 
 hollow eyes of a ghost the Ghost of Chance. But 
 the ghost as yet had made no sign. 
 
 For a while she lay there, wide-eyed, restless, 
 face and arms flushed, her heart quickening to the 
 rapid rush of disordered thought hurrying her on 
 ward whither, she scarcely knew, until she found 
 herself standing before her mirror, the electric 
 light flooding the room once more. 
 
 " I can t lie there," she said to herself; " I can t 
 sleep; it seems to me as if I could never sleep 
 again." 
 
 The small gilt clock struck the hour five ! She 
 considered it, turned and went to the window, and, 
 raising the shade, looked out. The shadows of 
 the electric lamps played quivering over the snow ; 
 nothing else stirred. She crossed the room and 
 316 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 opened her door, listening there in the darkness. 
 Then, treading softly, the tips of her fingers on 
 the mahogany rail to guide her, she felt her way 
 down the stairs, her small bare feet brushing the 
 velvet carpet. 
 
 There was an electric jet in the lower hall; she 
 turned it on, groped about on the telephone shelf 
 for the directory, and turned the leaves noiselessly 
 until she came to the letter, L. Very carefully she 
 traced the column of names, eyes following her 
 moving finger, until she found what she wanted. 
 Then she turned, unhooked the receiver, and 
 pressed it to her ear: 
 
 " Hello ! " she almost whispered. " Please give 
 me nine O three Lenox Hill." 
 
 And after a throbbing wait : 
 
 "Is this the Lenox Club?" 
 
 " Has Mr. Leeds come in yet? " 
 
 " Perhaps he isn t asleep. Please find out. . . . 
 No, I can t give my name." 
 
 " Yes ; it is of great importance. If he is asleep, 
 please wake him." 
 
 " Yes, I ll hold the wire." 
 317 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 The receiver against her ear was trembling, but 
 she could not control her hand. 
 
 "Yes ! ... Is that you, Mr. Leeds? " 
 
 " Can t you guess who it is ? " 
 
 ;< You can t ! Do you mean to intimate that 
 other gir other people call you up at five o clock 
 in the morning ! " 
 
 . 
 
 " Of course it is I ! " 
 
 . . 
 
 " Yes, Naida." 
 
 " I am at home. I could not sleep, so I thought 
 I would find out whether you could. Besides, I 
 wanted to know whether you stayed for the co 
 tillon." 
 
 "But why didn t you?" 
 
 " Oh ! that is very nice of you to say that I 
 And haven t you really been asleep ? " 
 
 "Doing what?" 
 
 
 
 " Thinking of me ! " 
 
 
 
 318 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 " All alone in your room at this ghastly hour 
 of the morning, thinking about me? Do you ex 
 pect me to believe " 
 
 " I won t tell you now." 
 
 " Haven t I enough to keep me awake think- 
 ing? " 
 
 " No, I don t mean that. You know perfectly 
 well that you gave me sufficient to think about 
 for the rest of my days." 
 
 " Don t say that over the phone ! Yes, it was 
 the first the very first time it had ever been 
 been done to me." 
 
 " No, I don t forget anything ; I never shall. 
 What do you mean by a ghost of a chance ? " 
 
 " Oh ! Do you truly mean that ? I am so so 
 dreadfully happy to hear you say that 
 
 " Yes." 
 " Yes." 
 
 319 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 6 Yes." 
 " Ye-s " 
 
 "Oh-h!" 
 
 
 
 "What! Now!! 99 
 
 " Do you mean now ? at five o clock in 
 
 " I do I I am in love with you ! But I m not 
 insane " 
 
 "Oh, this is dreadful! Yes, I ll hold the wire. 
 Yes, the other name for it is the Church of the 
 Transfiguration, but " 
 
 " Nobody will do it for us at this hour ! " 
 
 " Well, I ll wait " 
 
 She leaned against the telephone shelf, the re 
 ceiver pressed convulsively to her ear, blue eyes 
 closed. Years seemed to drag Time in endless 
 chains across her vision ; her knees fell trembling ; 
 thought, run riot, raced through her brain, and 
 every little pulse clamored to the heart s hard 
 beating. 
 
 320 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 "Yes!" she gasped with a start; "I m still 
 here." 
 
 
 
 " No, I am not dressed for for the street " 
 
 " Yes if you wish it. ... It will take only a 
 few minutes. But, oh do you think ? " 
 
 " Truly I will ; I do love you." 
 
 . . 
 
 " Yes, I will hurry. Good-by " 
 
 "I do! I do! You will see!" 
 
 Up the dark stairway once more in velvet-footed 
 haste, giving herself no moment for considering 
 what she was about to do ; masses of heavy, glow 
 ing hair in a tangle, with comb and brush flying ; 
 the soft, intimate perfume of lace and delicate 
 linen, silk, and the flutter of ribbon; then gown 
 and hat and furs a stare at the unknown face in 
 the mirror her last adieu to the girl she had 
 known so long. But, in the dark outside her door, 
 she heard the summons the voiceless call of the 
 Ghost of Chance, waiting attendance; and her 
 heart responded passionately. Down through the 
 darkness again fumbling at chain and bolt the 
 keen night air in her throat; and, through the 
 321 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 wintry silence veiled in darkness, the yellow lamps 
 of a brougham gilding her face, dazzling her as 
 she laid her groping hand on the arm of the man 
 who sprang forward to guide her. 
 
 " You mustn t shiver so you must not tremble 
 that way," he whispered. " It is all right, dear ; 
 I ve got McManus and Kenna for witnesses ; 
 they re at the church; I ve made arrangements. 
 Naida! Naida! The inevitable was never inev 
 itable while there was the ghost of a chance that 
 you loved me." 
 
 She caught his hands in hers, staring into his 
 face, which was as white as her own. " Oh ! " she 
 breathed. " I love you so. As maid as wife, 
 you have taken all there is to me all of good, of 
 evil with my first kiss ! I am yours no matter 
 what an outward fate might hold for me. . . . 
 Listen ; look at me ! Am I to go with you ? Shall 
 you repent it? Wait hush, dear; it is not too 
 late yet. I am not thinking of myself for the 
 first time in my life I am not thinking of self; 
 nor of my mother; she is easily reconciled. I am 
 thinking of you of you and all that splendor 
 your spirit lives in all the heavenly world into 
 which you set me into which you painted me, 
 transfigured, with eyes that seemed just opening 
 in paradise! 
 
 322 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 " Tell me, dear ; your life is important ; it is 
 really not your own to throw away. Shall I go 
 with you ? Shall I stay here, quiet with your mem 
 ory my life already fulfilled? " 
 
 His answer was so low that she bent her head 
 close to his to listen. And, after a long while, un 
 closing her eyes, she saw through the carriage 
 window the dim gas lamps shining and the stained 
 light of a church window tracing across the snow 
 a celestial pathway tinted with crimson, azure, and 
 gold. The horses halted with a snowy thud of 
 dancing hoofs ; the wintry air rushed into her face 
 as the carriage door was opened by two tall Irish 
 men wearing very shiny silk hats. 
 
 " Naida, Mr. McManus Mr. Kenna " 
 
 The tall hats of the tall Irishmen swept the 
 snow ; to each in turn she offered an unsteady little 
 hand ; then leaning on Leeds s arm she entered the 
 iron gateway, the two contractors following. 
 
 " The purty lady," purred Kenna ; " d ye mind 
 the little hand of her, McManus ? " 
 
 " I did so ; an I seen the mitten to fit it. 
 Shquare yer chist, man ; we re walkin on shtocks 
 and bonds ; we re walkin on the red neck o pride 
 and power, Kenna. Whisht; cock yer hat, an 
 thread majestic!" 
 
 And so through the snowy darkness of dawn 
 323 
 
THE TREE OF HEAVEN 
 
 they passed across the frozen gardens to that little 
 church around the corner where no sweeter bride 
 shall ever kneel than knelt there then at prayer 
 among the tinted shadows. And behind them knelt 
 the Ghost of Chance. 
 
 The sun rose at seven; and a little later the 
 bride left the church, her pale, enraptured face 
 uplifted to the rosy zenith. She returned to earth 
 presently : " Jim, shall we stop and breakfast with 
 our mother ? " 
 
 He pressed her hand in agonized acquiescence; 
 he was too scared to speak. At the same time he 
 seemed to be conscious of something at his elbow, 
 laughing in silence. It was the Ghost of Chance 
 bidding them au revoir. Then the brougham 
 drove up at a signal from Kenna; the bride en 
 tered, and Leeds turned to McManus : " At five 
 o clock this morning I wired Thorne that the key 
 panel was finished and ready to deliver. We leave 
 for Florida this afternoon. Will you see that the 
 contract is carried out? " 
 
 " Arrah, leave it to Kenna, Misther Leeds. Is 
 that all, sorr?" 
 
 " All I think 
 
 " There is wan little item I m thinkin yer sweet 
 lady has forgotten but mayhap she has no need 
 
 av it now " 
 
 324 
 
THE GHOST OF CHANCE 
 
 " What s that, McManus? " 
 
 " The other mitten, sorr," giggled McManus. 
 Leeds looked at him for a full second ; they shook 
 hands very seriously. 
 
 Then, as the carriage wheeled and drove west, 
 the bride, leaning on her husband s shoulder to 
 look back, caught a last glimpse of a snowy 
 little church, an ice-festooned fountain behind the 
 shrubbery, and, moving majestically in the middle 
 distance, shoulder to shoulder, arm under arm, two 
 dignified Irishmen, their tall hats burnished into 
 splendor by the rising sun. 
 
 (i) 
 
 THE END 
 
 325 
 
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