CHAPTER XX.

_MRS. SCHOLASKIE._

Just how Ivan’s wooing of Katy sped I had no means of knowing except

through Jack, who wrote:

“Ivan has been here and gone. I tell you he is the right kind. I took

him everywhere and introduced him to everybody, and told them he was an

escaped nihilist, and had been disguised as a lady in satins and silks,

and as an old woman with a hump on her back and a gray wig. That made

him a lion at once and folks stared at him till he got tired and said:

‘Please drop Alex and Sophie and the escaped nihilist. It sounds too

much like “escaped convict.” I am an American citizen, or going to be as

soon as I can be naturalized.’ So I dropped ’em. What a handsome fellow

he is, with manners which take you right off your feet! Where did he get

’em? I wonder. Father likes him. Katy was stiff as a ramrod at first,

but she—I did not mean to listen, but I got in a trap where I could not

help myself and heard something about a letter she wrote and he never

got. After that they made up. Oh, my! I just doubled up to hear the

silly talk—and—kisses! Yes, sir! kisses! loud as firecrackers! and Katy

such a modest little girl. I wouldn’t have believed it of her!”

After Ivan’s return to New York he made the acquaintance of some

influential Russians through whom he secured a tolerably lucrative

position and was able to keep his grandmother’s gift intact. He came

once to Ridgefield during the summer, and I was struck anew with his

appearance as a polished gentleman, with the qualities of a splendid

man, and when he said “Katy has promised to be my wife,” I congratulated

him most sincerely and felt that Katy had chosen well. Sometime in

October there was a quiet wedding at my brother’s. Among the wedding

presents was a box within a box sent by Ivan’s grandmother and

containing all her diamonds except one ring and a small stick pin. She

wrote:

“I am getting too old to wear them. My neck is too wrinkled and my hands

too full of veins. They will look better on your bride. Give her my love

and an old, cranky woman’s blessing. I’m not pleased with the match.

Don’t think I am. You ought to have married in your own sphere and not

have turned clerk, or something. What have you done with the money I

gave you? There is more where that came from. God bless you and your

wife.

YOUR GRANDMOTHER.”

The diamonds were a fortune in themselves, and Katy said she should

never wear them, but the next winter, when Ivan and Katy spent several

weeks in Washington, I read notes of the beautiful Mrs. Scholaskie and

her exquisite diamonds, “heirlooms of her husband’s family,” and

concluded Katy had changed her mind.

* * * * *

It is nearly two years since I came from Europe, and a warm May sunshine

has tempted me to the seat under the maple tree where Nicol bade me

good-by. He is here beside me reading the morning news of the troubles

in poor distracted Russia over which war clouds are hanging so darkly.

He came last fall—a new Michel, with his eyes wide open and full of the

tender, loving light I remembered so well in Nicol’s soft brown eyes.

Much of his beard was gone and he looked younger than when he wore the

uniform of a gendarme. That life he had left behind him with his old

home, which, as he could not sell it to advantage, he had shut up.

“Maybe she will come here with me some time,” he thought. I never shall.

He did not ask me _if_ I would marry him, but _when_, and was so

persistent and masterful that we were married at Christmas time and went

to Washington for a part of the winter.

My father is old, and as he has a good deal of property both in town and

in the country, where he has a large farm, he has asked Michel to stay

with him and look after his business; so, for the present, we are

settled in Ridgefield.

And now, as we sit in the sunshine, Chance lies stretched on the ground

between us, his tongue out and breathing as hard as if he had been

running miles instead of chasing a neighbor’s cat across the garden to

the barn. After we were married Michel wrote for him to be sent by

express, with injunctions that he should be well cared for. We both went

to New York to meet him as he came from the ship, rather gaunt and

sorry-looking and tugging hard at the chain by which he was held. At

sight of us he gave a cry between a bark and a howl, and wrenching

himself from the man who was holding him, he sprang upon us, putting one

paw on my shoulder and one on Michel’s, and looking at us reproachfully,

as if asking why he had been made a prisoner. And behind him came

Zaidee, to our great surprise.

“You didn’t expect me, I know,” she said, half crying and half laughing;

“but I had to come. I went to Siberia and saw Carl, and it wouldn’t do!

I tried hard to have it, but no use. I do not think he would steal a

penny now, but somehow it wouldn’t do! He said I was ‘airy,’ living so

long with old madame. Maybe I am, but I couldn’t stay with him and came

back to St. Petersburg and hired out to Mrs. Browne to do the work Alex

did. I tried hard to suit, but nothing I did was ever quite as well as

Alex did it. I wanted to tell her who Alex was, especially when she

wondered if they had ever found that fellow the gendarme came hunting

for in her house; but I didn’t. I was that lonesome with the old house

shut up and M. Seguin away that I couldn’t stand it, and when I heard

you and monsieur were married and had sent for Chance, I said: ‘I’ll go,

too, with the dog,’ thinking I might see if they used him well. I came

second-class, but they wouldn’t let me see the dog. I knew about where

he was, and once I went as close to him as I could and called ‘Chance!

Chance!’ at the top of my voice. You never heard such a roar as went

through the ship, scaring the passengers, who thought some wild beast

was let loose. I was told to mind my business, and I did. The creature

looks half starved, but here we are, all of us, and I am so glad. I must

go now and look after my baggage.”

She went back to her poor little hair trunk, which was gone through from

top to bottom, where lay my hat nearly rimless and crushed out of all

shape. She kept it, she said, because but for it she would still have

been in the slums, or in Siberia.

She took it for granted she was to live with us, and a more faithful

servant I have never had. She is nearly as much interested in the war as

Michel. He says very little, except that he is glad he is not in St.

Petersburg.

Zaidee is more pronounced. She does not think much of the government,

she says, but it makes her mad to have great giants of Russians whipped

by little bits of Japs, and madder still to have the people burst up

right after the czar has told them they might pray to any god they

pleased. Zaidee’s ideas are rather crude, but, on the whole, pretty

sound. Ivan is very decided and makes no secret of his sympathy with the

Japs, and but for Katy he might perhaps join the army.

But Katy’s quiet, gentle influence helps to keep his hot blood down, and

now that there is in the household a little Sophie, who came on Easter,

he does not talk as much of the war as he did, and is settling down into

a very domestic husband and father.

And so, after a series of rather stormy scenes in a far-off land, the

curtain drops on the homes of four happy people; two of them middle-aged

but loving each other with all the fervor of youth, and two young, with

the world before them—a world Ivan with his restlessness says he means

to see as soon as Jack is out of school and can go with him. When he

heard this Jack threw up his cap and hurrahed for his Russian

brother-in-law, and might have hurrahed for Russia generally if Ivan had

not stopped him.

THE END.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

SPECIAL LIST OF

_Popular Copyright Novels_

12mo, Cloth. Retail, 75 Cents.

Hon. Peter Sterling, The

By PAUL LEICESTER FORD

Author of “Janice Meredith,” Etc.

Barabbas

By MARIE CORELLI

Author of “The Sorrows of Satan,” Etc.

Right of Way, The

By GILBERT PARKER

Author of “The Seats of the Mighty,” Etc.

Sorrows of Satan, The

By MARIE CORELLI

Author of “Barabbas,” Etc.

St. Ives

By R. L. STEVENSON

Author of “Treasure Island,” Etc.

Rupert of Hentzau

By ANTHONY HOPE

Author of “The Prisoner of Zenda,” Etc.

Heart of Princess Osra, The

By ANTHONY HOPE

Author of “Quisante,” Etc.

Young April

By EGERTON CASTLE

Author of “The Pride of Jennico,” Etc.

Lady Paramount, The

By HENRY HARLAND

Author of “The Cardinal’s Snuff-Box,” Etc.

None but the Brave

By HAMBLIN SEARS

Author of “A Box of Matches”

That Mainwaring Affair

By A. MAYNARD BARBOUR

Author of “At the Time Appointed,” Etc.

Quisante

By ANTHONY HOPE

Author of “The Prisoner of Zenda,” Etc.

Broken Rosary, A

By EDWARD PEPLE

Author of “The Prince Chap”

Sentimental Tommy

By J. M. BARRIE

Author of “The Little Minister,” Etc.

When Knighthood was in Flower

By CHARLES MAJOR

Author of “Dorothy Vernon,” Etc.

Black Douglas, The

By S. R. CROCKETT

Author of “Joan of the Sword Hand,” Etc.

Via Crucis

By F. MARION CRAWFORD

Author of “Saracinesca,” Etc.

Thyra Varrick

By AMELIA E. BARR

Author of “The Bow of Orange Ribbon,” Etc.

Prisoner of Zenda, The

By ANTHONY HOPE

Author of “Quisante,” Etc.

Market-Place, The

By HAROLD FREDERIC

Author of “The Damnation of Theron Ware,” Etc.

Orange Girl, The

By SIR WALTER BESANT

Author of “Dorothy Foster,” Etc.

Maid of Maiden Lane, The

By AMELIA E. BARR

Author of “Thyra Varrack,” Etc.

Duke Decides, The

By HEADON HILL

Author of “Aboard the American Duchess,” Etc.

Captain of the Janizaries, The

By JAMES M. LUDLOW

Author of “Deborah,” Etc.

Peggy O’Neal

By ALFRED HENRY LEWIS

Author of “The Boss,” Etc.

Grafters, The

By FRANCIS LYNDE

Author of “Helpers,” Etc.

Lazarre

By MARY HARTWELL CATHERWOOD

Author of “Romance of Dollard,” Etc.

Between The Lines

By CAPT. CHARLES KING

Author of “Cadet Days,” Etc.

SPECIAL LIST OF

_Popular Copyright Novels_

12mo, Cloth. Retail, 50 Cents.

Hope Loring

By LILIAN BELL

Author of “Under Side of Things,” Etc.

Captain Ravenshaw

By ROBERT NEILSON STEPHENS

Author of “An Enemy to the King,” Etc.

One Woman

By THOMAS DIXON, Jr.

Author of “The Leopard’s Spots,” Etc.

Mystery of Murray Davenport, The

By ROBERT NEILSON STEPHENS

Author of “Captain Ravenshaw,” Etc.

Soul of Lilith, The

By MARIE CORELLI

Author of “The Sorrows of Satan,” Etc.

An Enemy to the King

By ROBERT NEILSON STEPHENS

Author of “The Road to Paris,” Etc.

Miser Hoadley’s Secret

By ARTHUR W. MARCHMONT

Author of “The Heritage of Peril,” Etc.

MS. in a Red Box, The

Cardinal’s Snuff-Box, The

By HENRY HARLAND

Author of “The Lady Paramount,” Etc.

Joan of the Sword Hand

By S. R. CROCKETT

Author of “The Black Douglas,” Etc.

Philip Winwood

By ROBERT NEILSON STEPHENS

Author of “An Enemy to the King,” Etc.

Conqueror, The

By GERTRUDE F. ATHERTON

Author of “Ruler of Kings,” Etc.

Crisis, The

By WINSTON CHURCHILL

Author of “The Crossing,” Etc.

Pride of Jennico, The

By AGNES and EGERTON CASTLE

Authors of “Bath Comedy,” Etc.

Heart of Rome, The

By F. MARION CRAWFORD

Author of “Saracinesca,” Etc.

Choir Invisible, The

By JAMES LANE ALLEN

Author of “A Kentucky Cardinal,” Etc.

Calumet “K”

By MERWIN-WEBSTER

Author of “The Short Line War,” Etc.

Continental Dragoon, The

By ROBERT NEILSON STEPHENS

Author of “An Enemy to the King,” Etc.

Red Triangle, The

By ARTHUR MORRISON

Author of “Chronicles of Martin Hewitt” Etc.

Heritage of Peril, The

By ARTHUR W. MARCHMONT

Author of “Miser Hoadley’s Secret,” Etc.

Road to Paris, The

By ROBERT NEILSON STEPHENS

Author of “Captain Ravenshaw,” Etc.

In Kedar’s Tents

By HENRY SETON MERRIMAN

Author of “The Sowers,” Etc.

Heritage of Unrest, The

By GWENDOLEN OVERTON

Author of “Captains of the World,” Etc.

Barbara Ladd

By CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS

Author of “Forge in the Forest,” Etc.

Gentleman Player, A

By ROBERT NEILSON STEPHENS

Author of “The Road to Paris,” Etc.

Price of Freedom, The

By ARTHUR W. MARCHMONT

Author of “The Heritage of Peril,” Etc.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

Page Changed from Changed to

48 through suits of rooms on the through suites of rooms on the

walls of which were some walls of which were some

● Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained.

● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.

Lucy Harding · 第 20 / 20 章