In Apple-Blossom Time: A Fairy-Tale to Date
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CHAPTER XV
The Clouds Disperse
And so with the entrance into that automobile began still anotherchapter in Geraldine Melody's life. While they drove through theattractive avenues of the resort and Mrs. Barry pointed out the cottagesbelonging to well-known people, the young girl was making an effort forher own self-possession. To be alone with the mother of her knight wasexciting, and her determination was not to allow any emotion to beobservable in her manner. She did not yet know whether she was presentas a seamstress or as a guest. She felt that in either case she had beensummoned for inspection, for of course Ben had left his mother in nodoubt as to his sentiments. Mrs. Barry evinced no embarrassment. Hersmooth monologue flowed on without a question. Perhaps she suspected thetumult in the fluttering heart beside her, and was giving the young girltime. At all events, nothing that she said required an answer, andGeraldine obediently looked, unseeing, at every object she pointed out.
The motor rolled across a bridge. "Here you see Keefeport even boasts alittle river," said Mrs. Barry. "The young people can enjoy a mild canoetrip as well as their exciting yachting. I am going to stop at mycottage and give a few orders, so long as I am here."
Another five minutes of swift riding brought them to the drivewayleading to a cottage placed on a rocky height close to the sea. "We havea rather wonderful view, you see," Mrs. Barry's calm voice went on."Perhaps you would like to get out and walk about the piazza while Ispeak with the caretaker."
Geraldine followed her out of the luxurious car, feeling very small andinsignificant and resenting the sensation made upon her by the imposingsurroundings. She wished herself back with Miss Upton and the cat; butshe mounted the steps and stood on the wide porch looking on the jaggedrocks beneath. The sea came hissing in among them, flinging up spray anddragging back noisily in the strong wind to make ready for anotheronslaught. The vast view was superb and suggested all the poems she hadever read about the sea. Mrs. Barry had gone into the house and now cameout with the caretakers, a man and wife, with whom she examined theprogress of flowers and vines growing in sheltered nooks. Geraldineresolutely shut out memories of her knight. The girls whose summers werespent among these scenes were his friends, and among them his mother haddoubtless selected some fastidious maiden who had never encountereddisgraceful moments.
"I belong to myself," thought Geraldine proudly, forcing back somestinging drops, salt as the vast waters before her. "I don't needanybody, I don't." She fought down again the memory of her lover'sembraces. Ever afterward she remembered those few minutes alone on thepiazza at Rockcrest, overwhelmed by the sensation of contrast betweenherself on sufferance in her cheap raiment, and the indications allabout her of the opposite extreme of luxury--remembered those moments asaffording her a poignant unhappiness.
"I won't ask you to come into the cottage," said Mrs. Barry, approachingat the close of her interview. "The rugs haven't been unrolled yet, andit is all in disorder. Isn't that a superb show of sky and sea, andnever twice alike?"
"Superb," echoed Geraldine.
"You are shivering," said her hostess. "It is many degrees colder herethan over in the sheltered place where Miss Upton has her shop. I havequite finished. Let us go back."
They went down to the car and were soon speeding toward Keefe. BesideLamson sat the imposing hatbox. Somehow it added to Geraldine'sunhappiness, as if jeering at her for an effort to appear what she wasnot.
She must talk. Her regal companion would suspect her wretchedness.
"What are you going to make your curtains of, Mrs. Barry?" she asked.
The commonplace proved a most felicitous question. The lady describedmaterial, took her measurements out of her purse, and discussed rufflesand tucks and described location and size of windows, during which talkthe young girl was able to throw off the spell that had held her mute.
She did not suspect how her companion was listening with discriminatingears to her speech, and the very tones of her voice, and watching withdiscriminating eyes her manner and expression. Ben had told his motherto take her magnifying glass and she had begun to use it.
When the motor entered the home grounds at Keefe, Geraldine resisted theassociations of her last arrival there. A faint mist of apple blossomsstill clung in spots to the orchard.
Lamson carried her poor little effects and the hateful, grandiose hatboxinto the living-room where one day she had regained her scatteredsenses.
"You may take these things up to the blue room," Mrs. Barry said to themaid who appeared, "and you will give Miss Melody any assistance sherequires."
Geraldine followed the girl upstairs to the charming room assigned toher. Every dainty convenience was within its walls. The pleasant maid'smanner was all alacrity. It was safe to believe that she knew more thanher mistress about Geraldine, and the attitude toward her of the youngmaster of the house. The guest looked about her and recalled her room atthe Carder farm, the patchwork quilt at the Upton Emporium, and her lastshakedown under the eaves of the Keefeport shell house.
Between the filmy white curtains at these windows she could see the rosyvestiges of the orchard bloom. The furniture of the room was apparentlyivory, the bathroom silver and porcelain. Azure and white coloring werein all the decorations. The maid was unpacking her boxes. Geraldine wasashamed of her own mortification in allowing her to see the contents.
"I think I'd rather do that myself," she said hastily.
"Some ladies do," returned the girl.
"Especially," rejoined Geraldine, "when they are not used to beingwaited upon!"
She accompanied this with a look of such frank sweetness that shecounted one more victim to her charms.
"She isn't one bit stuck-up," the maid reported downstairs, "and Inever saw such hair and eyes in all my life."
"They've done for Mr. Ben all right," remarked the chauffeur. "I guessMadam thought it was about time to get acquainted."
When Geraldine came downstairs an hour later, she was arrayed in thecheap little green-and-white house dress which had been one of herpurchases with Miss Upton, and was intended for summer use in the shop.As she wandered into the living-room, Mrs. Barry walking on the piazzaperceived her through the long, open windows and came to join her.
"Did you find everything quite comfortable?" she asked solicitously.
"Perfectly," replied Geraldine. "It is quite wonderful after one hasbeen leading a camping-out life."
Mrs. Barry continued to approve her intonation and manner.
"You certainly have passed through strange vicissitudes," she replied."Sometime you must tell me your story-book adventures."
"They are not very pleasant reminiscences," said Geraldine.
"Very well, then, you shall not be made to rehearse them."
A maid appeared and announced dinner.
Geraldine's repressed excitement took away her appetite for theperfectly served repast. Mrs. Barry's regal personality seemed topervade the whole establishment. One could not imagine any detailventuring to go wrong; any food to be underdone or overdone; any servantto venture to make trouble. The machinery of the household moved onoiled wheels. A delicate cleanliness, quietness, order, pervaded thehome and all its surroundings.
Mrs. Barry made no comment on her guest's lack of appetite. When theyhad finished, she led her out to the porch where their coffee wasserved.
"Now, isn't this an improvement on Rockcrest?" she asked as they satlistening to the sleepy, closing evening songs of the thrushes. "Imaginetrying to drink our coffee on that piazza where we were this afternoon.There is a more sheltered portion, a part that I have enclosed in glass;but my son likes the front to be all open to the elements."
"It is very beautiful here," said Geraldine. "It must be hard for you totear yourself away even later in the season."
"That is what does it," returned Mrs. Barry, waving her hand toward alarge thermometer affixed to one of the columns. "When you come downsome morning and find the mercury trying to go over the top, you areready to flit w
here there are no great trees to seem to hold in theair." The speaker paused, regarding the young girl for a moment insilence. An appreciation of her had been growing ever since they leftKeefeport, and now for the first time she allowed herself a pleasure inGeraldine's beauty. It was wonderful camouflage if it was nothing more."Do you enjoy music, Miss Melody?" she asked suddenly.
The girl gave her a faint smile.
"Foolish question, isn't it?" she added. "I usually play awhile in theevening." She set down her cup and rose.
Geraldine rose also, looked pleased and eager.
"I'm so glad," she replied. "I have no accomplishments myself."
A vague memory of having heard something about a cruel stepmotherassailed the hostess. She smiled kindly at the girl. "Some people havegifts instead," she said. "Stay here. I will go in and try to give yousome happy thoughts."
Geraldine sank back in her chair, her eyes fixed on the graceful elmsand the vivid streaks across a sunset sky.
As the strains of Chopin, Schumann, and Brahms came through the openwindow it necessitated some, effort not to have too happy thoughts. Theskillful musician modulated from one number to another, and Geraldine,all ignorant in her art-starved life, of what she was hearing, gaveherself up to the loveliness of sight and sound.
When Mrs. Barry reappeared, the girl's eyelids were red, and as shestarted up to meet her she put out her hands impulsively, and themusician laughed a little as she accepted their grasp, well pleased withthe eloquent speechlessness.
When Geraldine waked the next morning her first vague thought was thatshe must shake off sleep and help Mrs. Carder. That troubling sensefaded into another, also troubling. She was to spend a whole day,perhaps several whole days, with the rather fearful splendor of themother of her knight. That in itself would not be so bad, Mrs. Barry hadshown a kind intention, but the knight himself might return at any hour.Why had she come? Yet how refuse when her previous hostess had soenergetically thrown her out of the nest?
The sun had gone behind clouds. She rose, closed her windows, and madeher toilet, then descended to the hall where Mrs. Barry met her with apleasant greeting and they went in to breakfast.
"We're going to catch some rain, it seems," she said. "It is nice MissUpton is moved and settled."
"Yes," rejoined Geraldine, "and curtain-making can go on just as well inthe rain."
"You had a good sleep, I'm sure," said the hostess, regarding herfreshness.
"Yes, I am ready and full of energy to begin," said the girl. "I feelthat I am going to do the work quickly and go back sooner than MissUpton expects. It is nice for them to have some young hands and feet tocall upon."
"I hope you don't feel in haste," returned Mrs. Barry politely. She wasso courteous, so gracious, so powerful, and such leagues away from her,Geraldine longed to get at the work, and know what to do with her handsand her eyes.
Very soon the curtain material was produced. Mrs. Barry had the sewingmachine moved into the living-room where there was plenty of space forthe billowy white stuff, and they began their measuring.
The air was sultry preceding the storm, and a distant rumbling ofthunder was heard. The house door was left open as well as the longFrench windows which gave upon the piazza.
The guest had slept late, delaying the breakfast hour, and the two hadbeen working at the curtains only a short time when a man, strange toMrs. Barry, walked into the living-room. Approaching on the footpath tothe house, Geraldine only had been visible to him through the window. Hebelieved her to be alone in the room, and the house door standing openhe had dispensed with the formality of ringing and walked in.
Something in the wildness of the intruder's look startled the hostessand she pressed a button in the wall.
She saw Geraldine's face blanch and her eyes dilate with terror as theman approached her, but no sound escaped her lips. The stranger put outhis hand. The girl shrank back. The queen of Keefe stepped forward.
"What do you mean by this?" she exclaimed sternly. "What do you wish?"
The man turned and faced her. "I've come on important business with thisgirl. My name is Rufus Carder--you may have heard of it. GeraldineMelody belongs to me. Her father gave her to me." He turned back quicklyto the girl, for Mrs. Barry's face warned him that his time was short.
"You may have gone away against your will, Gerrie," he said. "It ain'ttoo late to save your father. Come back with me now and there won't be aword said. Refuse to come, and to-morrow all his pals shall know what hewas."
"Geraldine Melody belongs to me. Her Father gave her tome"]
Geraldine straightened her slight body. Terror was in every line of herdelicate face, but Mrs. Barry saw her control it. The details of thestories she had heard came back to her vividly. She realized thesuffering and the fate from which her boy had delivered the captive.Geraldine was exquisite to look at now as she faced her jailer. Thatethereal quality which was hers gave her spirituelle face a wonderfulappeal.
"Ben was right," thought Mrs. Barry with a thrill of pride. "She is athoroughbred."
"Mr. Carder," she said, approaching still nearer, her peremptory toneforcing him to turn his long, twitching face toward her, "Miss Melody isabout to marry my son. He will attend to any business you may have withher."
"Huh! That's it, is it? You don't look like the kind of woman who willenjoy having a forger in the family."
The girl's eyes closed under the stab.
"Geraldine, I should like you to go upstairs, dear," said Mrs. Barrygently. The girl moved slowly toward the door, Carder's eyes followingher full of a fierce, baffled hunger.
He turned on Mrs. Barry with the ugliest look she had ever beheld in ahuman countenance.
"Your son has stolen my boy, too, my servant, and I've come after him,"he said. "The law'll teach that fellow whether he can take otherpeople's property. That boy was bound to me out o' the asylum and Iwon't stand such impudence, I warn you. Where is he? Where is Pete? I'vegot a few things to teach him." The furious man was breathing heavily.
"I understand that you have taught him a few things already," repliedMrs. Barry, her eyes as steady as her voice. "I think, as you say, thelaw may take a hand in your affairs. My son and Pete have gone to thecity now, and I fancy it is on your business."
"What business?" ejaculated Carder, fumbling his hat, his rage appearingto feel a check.
"That I don't know, really. I was not interested; but I seem to rememberhearing my son use your name.--Lamson, is that you?" she added in thesame tone.
The chauffeur was standing at the door. "Yes, Mrs. Barry, you rang."
"Show this man the way to the station, Lamson."
Rufus Carder gave her one parting, vindictive look, and strode to thedoor.
"Out of my way!" he said savagely, as he pushed by the chauffeur andproceeded out of doors and down the path like one in haste. Mrs. Barrybelieved he was, indeed, in haste and driven by fear.
She proceeded upstairs to Geraldine's room and found the girl pacing thefloor. She paused and gazed at her hostess, her eyes dry and bright.Mrs. Barry approached and took her in her arms. At the affectionateembrace a sob rose in the girl's throat.
"When he says it, it seems true again," she said brokenly. "Ben says itis probably a lie, but I don't know, I don't know."
"That wretch declaring it makes it likely to be untrue. Ben tells me youhave lost your father, and if no proceedings were taken against him inhis lifetime, I should not fear now. My son hints at disreputable thingscommitted by this man, and if he can prove them, which he has gone todo, and Pete promises that they can do, then the culprit will not wantto draw attention to himself by starting any scandal, not even for thejoy of revenge on you. Forget it all, Geraldine." The addition was madeso tenderly that the girl's desperate composure gave way and shetrembled in the enfolding arms.
Mrs. Barry loved her for struggling not to weep. She kissed her cheek asshe gently released her. "You are safe, and beloved, and entering a newworld. You are young to have endured so
many sorrows, but youth iselastic and the future is bright."
Geraldine's breast heaved, she bit her lip, and no eyes ever expressedmore than the speaking orbs into which the queen of Keefe was looking.
"I know all that you are thinking," said Mrs. Barry. "I know all thatyou would like to say. Don't try now. You have had enough excitement. Ihave always wanted a daughter. I hope you will love me, too."
She kissed the girl again, on the lips this time, and there was fervorin the return.
The next day Mrs. Barry telephoned to half a dozen of her son's girlfriends and invited them to come to a sewing-bee and help with thecurtains for her cottage. She said that Miss Melody was visiting her andthat she would like them to know her. So they all came, wild withcuriosity to see the girl that their own Ben had kidnapped and who wasgoing to make him forget them; and Geraldine won them all by her modestyand naturalness. The fact that Ben's mother had accepted her gave hercourage in the face of this bevy who had grown up with her lover fromchildhood. They were too uncertain of the exact status of affairsbetween the beautiful stranger and their old friend to speak openly ofhim to her, but almost every reminiscence or subject of which theytalked led up to Ben. Of course, some among the six pairs of eyesleveled at Geraldine had a green tinge, and there were some girlishheartaches; and when the chattering flock had had their tea and cakesand left for home, there were certain ones who discussed theimpossibility of there being anything serious in the wind.
Ben was not even at home. Would he have gone away for an indefinite timeas his mother said he had done, if he was as engrossed in the girl asgossip had said? Had not that very gossip proceeded from the humblewalls of Miss Upton's shop where the stranger had apparently found herlevel? The Barrys had always held such a fine position, etc., etc., etc.
"Oh, but," said Adele Hastings, "that girl is a lady. Every movement andword proves it."
"Besides," added another maiden, "her being humble wouldn't haveanything to do with it. It never has, from the time of King Cophetuaon."
"Well," put in the poor little girl with the greenest eyes of all, "Ithink it is very significant that Ben has gone away. You notice Mrs.Barry didn't invite her to come until he had gone, and that common Mrs.Whipp called her by her first name. I heard her myself."
On the whole, Geraldine had scored, and really, although she was atpeace with the whole world, the fact of Mrs. Barry's approval dwarfedevery other opinion and event; for it meant that no longer need she setup a mental warning and barrier against thoughts of her lover.
A few days afterward Ben telephoned to have Lamson at the station at acertain hour, and he and Pete returned from their strange quest. Littlehe dreamed of the stir that telephone message caused in his home.
All the way out to Keefe on the train he was planning interviews withhis mother and wondering whether the seed he had dropped into her mindbefore leaving had borne fruit. He had promised Geraldine not to coerceher, and the girl's pride he knew would not submit to opposing hismother's wish. Therefore, when Mrs. Barry walked out on the piazza tomeet him, it was a very serious son that she encountered.
"What is the matter, Benny?" she asked as she kissed him. "Have youfailed?"
"No, indeed. I have succeeded triumphantly. I've got Carder in a box,and, believe me, he won't try to lift up the lid and let anybody seehim."
"He was here soon after you left," said Mrs. Barry calmly.
Ben looked surprised and alert.
"What did he want?"
"Pete; and he was going to have him or put you in the lock-up. Also hewanted Miss Melody. He's a wretch, Ben. I'm glad you went after him."
"He'll not trouble her any more," said the young fellow, walking intothe house with his mother clinging to his arm. "Carder is going to haveample leisure to think over the game he has played. Isn't it a strangesatire of fate that should make insignificant little Pete the boomerangto turn back and floor him? Pete's an ideal witness. He sees what hesees and he knows what he knows, and nothing can shake him because hedoesn't know anything else. Great Scott! when I located the facts atthat hospital and linked them together and brought an accusation againstCarder, it was like opening a door to a swarm of hornets. He has made somany people hate him that when the timid ones found it would be safe toloosen up, they were ready to fall upon him and sting him to death. He'ssafe to get a long sentence, and it will be time enough when he comesout to talk to him about Mr. Melody's debts--if Geraldine wishes it."
Ben looked around suddenly at his mother.
"Have you been to Keefeport to see Geraldine?"
She returned his gaze smiling, and feigned to tremble. "I'm so glad Ihave, Ben. You look so severe."
"And did you take that magnifying glass?"
"Yes."
"Wasn't I right?" asked Ben with some relief.
"You were. I like the girl. I feel we are going to be friends."
"Well, then, how about her being a clerk for Miss Upton?"
Ben asked the question frowning, and flung himself down beside hismother where she had seated herself on a divan. Why couldn't her bloodrun as fast as his? Why must she be so cold and deliberate at a crucialtime? "Going to be friends!" What an utterly inadequate speech!
"I want to talk to you about that," rejoined his mother. "Will youplease go into my study and bring me a letter you'll find on the table?"
Without a word, and still with the dissatisfied line in his forehead,the young man rose and moved away toward the closed door of thesanctum.
He opened it and there was a moment of dead silence. Mrs. Barry couldvisualize Geraldine as she looked standing there, radiantly expectant,mischievously blissful. The door slammed, and all was silence.
The mother laughed softly over the bit of sewing she had picked up. Fora minute she could not see very plainly, but she wiped her eyes and itpassed.
CHAPTER XVI
Apple Blossoms
Of course Ben wanted to be married at once, and whatever he wantedGeraldine wanted, but Mrs. Barry overruled this.
"I hope you will go back to school, Ben, and get your sheepskin," shesaid. "I want you to live in the city, too, and leave Geraldine with me.I would like to have some happiness with a daughter before she isengrossed in being your wife. Wait for your wedding until the orchardblooms again."
Ecstatic as Ben was, he could see sense in this; but vacation came firstand Geraldine was a belle at Keefeport that summer. Her beautyblossomed, and all the repressed vivacity of her nature came to thesurface. Her room at Rockcrest commanded the ocean, and every nightbefore she slept she knelt before her window and gave thanks for ahappiness which seemed as illimitable as the waters rolling to thehorizon. She yachted, and danced, and canoed, and flew, all thatsummer. She gained the hearts of the women by her unspoiled modesty andconsideration, while Ben was the envy of every bachelor at the resort.Nor did Geraldine forget Miss Upton. Every few days she called at theshop, and the two women there were never tired of admiring andexclaiming over the charming costumes in which Mrs. Barry dressed herchild, and many a gift the girl brought to them, never forgetting whatshe owed to her good fairy.
Pete was a happy general utility man and Miss Upton borrowed him attimes; but he liked best working on the yacht, where he was neverthrough polishing and cleaning, keeping it spick and span. He was givena blue suit and a yachting cap and rolled around the deck the jolliestof jolly little tars.
When autumn came, Ben Barry took rooms in the city, coming to Keefe forthe week-ends. Geraldine, who had had the usual school-girl fragments ofmusic and languages, studied hard, and Mrs. Barry took her to town forone month instead of the three which she usually spent there. It wasbest not to divert Ben too much.
So the winter wore away, and the snow melted and the crocuses peeped upagain. The robins returned, and Ben understood at last why theirinsistent, joyous cry was always of _Geraldine, Geraldine, Geraldine_!
The orchard was under solicitous surveillance this spring, and though ittakes the watched pot so long to boil, at la
st the rosy clouds driftingin the sky seemed to catch in the apple boughs and rest there, and thenthe wedding day was set.
The spacious rooms of the old house were cleared for dancing, for theceremony was to take place out under the trees at noon. Miss Upton had anew black silk dress given her by the bridegroom with a note over whichshe wept, for it acknowledged so affectionately all that he owed to hisbride's good fairy from the day when she so effectively waved herumbrella wand in the city. One of her gowns was made over for Mrs.Whipp, who on the great day stood with the maids and watched the weddingparty as it filed out over the lawn to the rosy bower of the orchard.The six bridesmaids wore pale-green and white, and, as Miss Upton viewedwith satisfaction, "droopy hats." She scanned the half-dozen of Ben'smen friends who supported him on the occasion and mentally noted theirinferiority to her hero.
Geraldine--but who could describe Geraldine in her beautiful happinessand her happy beauty! Look over your fairy tales and find a princess inclinging, lacy robes, her veil fastened with apple blossoms, and thegolden sheen of her hair shining through. Her bouquet oflilies-of-the-valley showered down before her and clung to her filmygown as she stepped, and the sweet gravity of her eyes never left theface of the good old minister who had baptized Ben in his babyhood,until he came to the words: "Who giveth this woman to be married to thisman?" Mrs. Barry stepped forward, took the hands of her children andplaced them together. Mehitable Upton was not the only one in the largegathering who dissolved at the look on those three faces.
In a minute it was over. The two were made one, and a soft, happyconfusion of tongues ensued. After the kissing and the congratulations,a breakfast was served on the wide piazzas, and the orchestra behindthe screen of palms began its strains of gay music.
After Geraldine had cut the bride's cake and disappeared to put on hergoing-away gown, one of the waiters brought out the rice.
Mrs. Barry begged the company not to be too generous with it. "Just apinch apiece," she said. "Don't embarrass them."
Adele Hastings, the maid of honor, laughed with her maids. She had comevery close to Geraldine in the last weeks, and she had managed to getboth umbrellas of bride and groom and put as much rice into them as theslim fastenings would permit. She believed the bridal pair were going totake a water trip, and she felt that the effect of opening the umbrellason a sunny deck some day would be exhilarating.
Mrs. Barry, as serene as ever, and very handsome in her lavender satin,disappeared upstairs for a few minutes. When she returned, Lamson wasdriving the automobile around to the front of the house.
"Now, be merciful to those poor youngsters," she said again, as, armedwith rice, they ranged themselves on the piazza and steps, making anaisle for the hero and heroine to pass through. They waited, talkingand laughing, when suddenly there was a burst of sound. Over thehouse-top came an increasing whirr, and an aeroplane suddenly flew overtheir heads. An excited cry arose from the cheated crowd. Laughter andshrieks burst from every upturned face. _Cher Ami_ circled around thehouse, flew away and returned, the young people below shouting messagesthat were never heard. At last down through the laughter-rent air camethe bridal bouquet, and scrambling and more shrieks ensued. The littlegirl with the greenest eyes of all--one of the bridesmaids shewas--secured it. We'll hope it was a comfort to her.
Lamson was demurely driving the car back to the garage, and Mrs. Barry,her dignity for once all forgotten, was laughing gayly. The weddingparty fell upon her with reproaches while the orchestra gave a spiritedrendition of "Going Up," the aviation operetta of the day.
They all watched the flight for a time, but the music invited, and soonthe couples were disappearing through the windows into the house andgliding over the floor.
Mrs. Barry and Miss Upton stood together, still following the swiftlyreceding aeroplane.
Mrs. Barry shook her head and sighed, smiling. "Young America! YoungAmerica!" she murmured.
"Yes," said Miss Upton, "what would our grandfathers have thought of it?Talk about fairy tales! Do any of the old stories come up to that?"
"No," returned Mrs. Barry, "but there is one feature of them that isever new. It is the best part of all and no story is complete withoutit."
"Yes, I know," said Miss Mehitable, nodding. They were both looking nowat a small dark point vanishing into a pearly cloud. "I know," sherepeated. "'And they lived happily ever afterward!'"
THE END
By Clara Louise Burnham
IN APPLE-BLOSSOM TIME. Illustrated. HEARTS' HAVEN. Illustrated by Helen Mason Grose. INSTEAD OF THE THORN. With frontispiece. THE RIGHT TRACK. With frontispiece in color. THE GOLDEN DOG. Illustrated in color. THE INNER FLAME. With frontispiece in color. CLEVER BETSY. Illustrated. FLUTTERFLY. Illustrated. THE LEAVEN OF LOVE. With frontispiece in color. THE QUEST FLOWER. Illustrated. THE OPENED SHUTTERS. With frontispiece in color. JEWEL: A CHAPTER IN HER LIFE. Illustrated. JEWEL'S STORY BOOK. Illustrated. THE RIGHT PRINCESS. MISS PRITCHARD'S WEDDING TRIP. YOUNG MAIDS AND OLD. DEARLY BOUGHT. NO GENTLEMEN. A SANE LUNATIC. NEXT DOOR. THE MISTRESS OF BEECH KNOLL. MISS BAGG'S SECRETARY. DR. LATIMER. SWEET CLOVER. A Romance of the White City. THE WISE WOMAN. MISS ARCHER ARCHER. A GREAT LOVE. A Novel. A WEST POINT WOOING, and Other Stories.
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY Boston and New York