A coach was approaching filled with people, some of them Marcia knew; they
were friends and neighbors from their own village, and behind it plodding
along came a horse with a strangely familiar gait drawing four people. The
driver was old Mr. Heath looking unbelievingly at the scene before him. He
did not believe that an engine would be able to haul a train any
appreciable distance whatever, and he believed that he had come out here
to witness this entire company of fanatics circumvented by the ill-natured
iron steed who stood on the track ahead surrounded by gaping boys and a
flock of quacking ganders, living symbol of the people who had come to see
the thing start; so thought Mr. Heath. He told himself he was as much of a
goose as any of them to have let this chit of a woman fool him into coming
off out here when he ought to have been in the hay field to-day.
By his side in all the glory of shimmering blue with a wide white lace
bertha and a bonnet with a steeple crown wreathed about heavily with roses
sat Kate, a blue silk parasol shading her eyes from the sun, those eyes
that looked to conquer, and seemed to pierce beyond and through her sister
and ignore her. Old Mrs. Heath and Miranda were along, but they did not
count, except to themselves. Miranda was all eyes, under an ugly bonnet.
She desired above all things to see that wonderful engine in which David
was so interested.
Marcia shrunk and seemed to wither where she sat. All her bright bloom
faded in an instant and a kind of frenzy seized her. She had a wild desire
to get down out of the carriage and run with all her might away from this
hateful scene. The sky seemed to have suddenly clouded over and the hum
and buzz of voices about seemed a babel that would never cease.
David felt the arm beside his cringe, and shrink back, and looking down
saw the look upon her sweet frightened face; following her glance his own
face hardened into what might have been termed righteous wrath. But not a
word did he say, and neither did he apparently notice the oncoming
carriage. He busied himself at once talking with a man who happened to
pass the carriage, and when Mr. Heath drove by to get a better view of the
engine he was so absorbed in his conversation that he did not notice them,
which seemed but natural.
But Kate was not to be thus easily foiled. She had much at stake and she
must win if possible. She worked it about that Squire Heath should drive
around to the end of the line of coaches, quite out of sight of the engine
and where there was little chance of seeing the train and its
passengers,—the only thing Squire Heath cared about. But there was an
excellent view of David’s carriage and Kate would be within hailing
distance if it should transpire that she had no further opportunity of
speaking with David. It seemed strange to Squire Heath, as he sat there
behind the last coach patiently, that he had done what she asked. She did
not look like a woman who was timid about horses, yet she had professed a
terrible fear that the screech of the engine would frighten the staid old
Heath horse. Miranda, at that, had insisted upon changing seats, thereby
getting herself nearer the horse, and the scene of action. Miranda did not
like to miss seeing the engine start.
At last word to start was given. A man ran along by the train and mounted
into his high seat with his horn in his hand ready to blow. The fireman
ceased his raking of the glowing fire and every traveller sprang into his
seat and looked toward the crowd of spectators importantly. This was a
great moment for all interested. The little ones whose fathers were in the
train began to call good-bye and wave their hands, and one old lady whose
only son was going as one of the train assistants began to sob aloud.
A horse in the crowd began to act badly. Every snort of the engine as the
steam was let off made him start and rear. He was directly behind Marcia,
and she turned her head and looked straight into his fiery frightened
eyes, red with fear and frenzy, and felt his hot breath upon her cheek. A
man was trying most ineffectually to hold him, but it seemed as if in
another minute he would come plunging into the seat with them. Marcia
uttered a frightened cry and clutched at David’s arm. He turned, and
seeing instantly what was the matter, placed his arm protectingly about
her and at once guided his own horse out of the crowd, and around nearer
to the engine. Somehow that protecting arm gave Marcia a steadiness once
more and she was able to watch the wonderful wheels begin to turn and the
whole train slowly move and start on its way. Her lips parted, her breath
came quick, and for the instant she forgot her trouble. David’s arm was
still about her, and there was a reassuring pressure in it. He seemed to
have forgotten that the crowd might see him—if the crowd had not been too
busy watching something more wonderful. It is probable that only one
person in that whole company saw David sitting with his arm about his
wife—for he soon remembered and put it quietly on the back of the seat,
where it would call no one’s attention—and that person was Kate. She had
not come to this hot dusty place to watch an engine creak along a track,
she had come to watch David, and she was vexed and angry at what she saw.
Here was Marcia flaunting her power over David directly in her face.
Spiteful thing! She would pay her back yet and let her know that she could
not touch the things that she, Kate, had put her own sign and seal upon.
For this reason it was that at the last minute Kate allowed poor Squire
Heath to drive around near the front of the train, saying that as David
Spafford seemed to find it safe she supposed she ought not to hold them
back for her fears. It needed but the word to send the vexed and curious
Squire around through the crowd to a spot directly behind David’s
carriage, and there Miranda could see quite well, and Kate could sit and
watch David and frame her plans for immediate action so soon as the
curtain should fall upon this ridiculous engine play over which everybody
was wild.
And so, amid shouts and cheers, and squawking of the geese that attempted
to precede the engine like a white frightened body-guard down the track;
amid the waving of handkerchiefs, the shouts of excited little boys, and
the neighing of frightened horses, the first steam engine that ever drew a
train in New York state started upon its initial trip.
Then there came a great hush upon the spectators assembled. The wheels
were rolling, the carriages were moving, the train was actually going by
them, and what had been so long talked about was an assured fact. They
were seeing it with their own eyes, and might be witnesses of it to all
their acquaintances. It was true. They dared not speak nor breathe lest
something should happen and the great miracle should stop. They hushed
simultaneously as though at the passing of some great soul. They watched
in silence until the train went on between the meadows, grew smaller in
the distance, slipped into the shadow of the wood, flashed out into the
sunlight beyond again, and then was lost behind a hill. A low murmur
growing rapidly into a shout of cheer arose as the crowd turned and faced
one another and the fact of what they had seen.
“By gum! She kin do it!” ejaculated Squire Heath, who had watched the
melting of his skeptical opinions in speechless amazement.
The words were the first intimation the Spaffords had of the proximity of
Kate. They made David smile, but Marcia turned white with sudden fear
again. Not for nothing had she lived with her sister so many years. She
knew that cruel nature and dreaded it.
David looked at Marcia for sympathy in his smile at the old Squire, but
when he saw her face he turned frowning toward those behind him.
Kate saw her opportunity. She leaned forward with honeyed smile, and wily
as the serpent addressed her words to Marcia, loud and clear enough for
all those about them to hear.
“Oh, Mrs. Spafford! I am going to ask a great favor of you. I am sure you
will grant it when you know I have so little time. I am extremely anxious
to get a word of advice from your husband upon business matters that are
very pressing. Would you kindly change places with me during the ride
home, and give me a chance to talk with him about it? I would not ask it
but that I must leave for New York on the evening coach and shall have no
other opportunity to see him.”
Kate’s smile was roses and cream touched with frosty sunshine, and to
onlookers nothing could have been sweeter. But her eyes were coldly cruel
as sharpened steel, and they said to her sister as plainly as words could
have spoken: “Do you obey my wish, my lady, or I will freeze the heart out
of you.”
Marcia turned white and sick. She felt as if her lips had suddenly
stiffened and refused to obey her when they ought to have smiled. What
would all these people think of her, and how was she behaving? For David’s
sake she ought to do something, say something, look something, but
what—what should she do?
While she was thinking this, with the freezing in her heart creeping up
into her throat, the great tears beating at the portals of her eyes, and
time standing suddenly still waiting for her leaden tongue to speak, David
answered:
All gracefully ’twas done, with not so much as a second’s
hesitation,—though it had seemed so long to Marcia,—nor the shadow of a
sign that he was angry:
“Mrs. Leavenworth,” he said in his masterful voice, “I am sure my wife
would not wish to seem ungracious, or unwilling to comply with your
request, but as it happens it is impossible. We are not returning home for
several days. My wife has some shopping to do in Albany, and in fact we
are expecting to take a little trip. A sort of second honeymoon, you
know,”—he added, smiling toward Mrs. Heath and Miranda; “it is the first
time I have had leisure to plan for it since we were married. I am sorry I
have to hurry away, but I am sure that my friend Squire Heath can give as
much help in a business way as I could, and furthermore, Squire Schuyler
is now in New York for a few days as I learned in a letter from him which
arrived last evening. I am sure he can give you more and better advice
than any I could give. I wish you good morning. Good morning, Mrs. Heath.
Good morning, Miss Miranda!”
Lifting his hat David drove away from them and straight over to the little
wayside hostelry where he was to finish his article to send by the
messenger who was even then ready mounted for the purpose.
“My! Don’t he think a lot of her though!” said Miranda, rolling the words
as a sweet morsel under her tongue. “It must be nice to have a man so fond
of you.” This was one of the occasions when Miranda wished she had eyes in
the back of her head. She was sharp and she had seen a thing or two, also
she had heard scraps of her cousin Hannah’s talk. But she sat demurely in
the recesses of her deep, ugly bonnet and tried to imagine how the guest
behind her looked.
All trembling sat Marcia in the rusty parlor of the little hostelry, while
David at the table wrote with hurried hand, glancing up at her to smile
now and then, and passing over the sheets as he finished them for her
criticism. She thought she had seen the Heath wagon drive away in the home
direction, but she was not sure. She half expected to see the door open
and Kate walk in. Her heart was thumping so she could scarcely sit still
and the brightness of the world outside seemed to make her dizzy. She was
glad to have the sheets to look over, for it took her thoughts away from
herself and her nameless fears. She was not quite sure what it was she
feared, only that in some way Kate would have power over David to take him
away from her. As he wrote she studied the dear lines of his face and
knew, as well as human heart may ever know, how dear another soul had
grown to hers.
David had not much to write and it was soon signed, approved, and sealed.
He sent his messenger on the way and then coming back closed the door and
went and stood before Marcia.
As though she felt some critical moment had come she arose, trembling, and
looked into his eyes questioningly.
“Marcia,” he said, and his tone was grave and earnest, putting her upon an
equality with him, not as if she were a child any more. “Marcia, I have
come to ask your forgiveness for the terrible thing I did to you in
allowing you, who scarcely knew what you were doing then, to give your
life away to a man who loved another woman.”
Marcia’s heart stood still with horror. It had come then, the dreadful
thing she had feared. The blow was going to fall. He did not love her!
What a fool she had been!
But the steady voice went on, though the blood in her neck and temples
throbbed in such loud waves that she could scarcely hear the words to
understand them.
“It was a crime, Marcia, and I have come to realize it more and more
during all the days of this year that you have so uncomplainingly spent
yourself for me. I know now, as I did not think then in my careless,
selfish sorrow, that I was as cruel to you, with your sweet young life, as
your sister was cruel to me. You might already have given your heart to
some one else; I never stopped to inquire. You might have had plans and
hopes for your own future; I never even thought of it. I was a brute. Can
you forgive me? Sometimes the thought of the responsibility I took upon
myself has been so terrible to me that I felt I could not stand it. You
did not realize what it was then that you were giving, perhaps, but
somehow I think you have begun to realize now. Will you forgive me?” He
stopped and looked at her anxiously. She was drooped and white as if a
blast had suddenly struck her and faded her sweet bloom. Her throat was
hot and dry and she had to try three times before she could frame the
words, “Yes, I forgive.”
There was no hope, no joy in the words, and a sudden fear descended upon
David’s heart. Had he then done more damage than he knew? Was the child’s
heart broken by him, and did she just realize it? What could he do? Must
he conceal his love from her? Perhaps this was no time to tell it. But he
must. He could not bear the burden of having done her harm and not also
tell her how he loved her. He would be very careful, very considerate, he
would not press his love as a claim, but he must tell her.
“And Marcia, I must tell you the rest,” he went on, his own words seeming
to stay upon his lips, and then tumble over one another; “I have learned
to love you as I never loved your sister. I love you more and better than
I ever could have loved her. I can see how God has led me away from her
and brought me to you. I can look back to that night when I came to her
and found you there waiting for me, and kissed you,—darling. Do you
remember?” He took her cold little trembling hands and held them firmly as
he talked, his whole soul in his face, as if his life depended upon the
next few moments. “I was troubled at the time, dear, for having kissed
you, and given you the greeting that I thought belonged to her. I have
rebuked myself for thinking since how lovely you looked as you stood there
in the moonlight. But afterward I knew that it was you after all that my
love belonged to, and to you rightfully the kiss should have gone. I am
glad it was so, glad that God overruled my foolish choosing. Lately I have
been looking back to that night I met you at the gate, and feeling jealous
that that meeting was not all ours; that it should be shadowed for us by
the heartlessness of another. It gives me much joy now to think how I took
you in my arms and kissed you. I cannot bear to think it was a mistake.
Yet glad as I am that God sent you down to that gate to meet me, and much
as I love you, I would rather have died than feel that I have brought
sorrow into your life, and bound you to one whom you cannot love. Marcia,
tell me truly, never mind my feelings, tell me! Can you ever love me?”
Then did Marcia lift her flower-like face, all bright with tears of joy
and a flood of rosy smiles, the light of seven stars in her eyes. But she
could not speak, she could only look, and after a little whisper, “Oh,
David, I think I have always loved you! I think I was waiting for you that
night, though I did not know it. And look!”—with sudden thought——
She drew from the folds of her dress a little old-fashioned locket hung by
a chain about her neck out of sight. She opened it and showed him a soft
gold curl which she touched gently with her lips, as though it were
something very sacred.
“What is it, darling?” asked David perplexed, half happy, half afraid as
he took the locket and touched the curl more thrilled with the thought
that she had carried it next her heart than with the sight of it.
“It is yours,” she said, disappointed that he did not understand. “Aunt
Clarinda gave it to me while you were away. I’ve worn it ever since. And
she gave me other things, and told me all about you. I know it all, about
the tops and marbles, and the spelling book, and I’ve cried with you over
your punishments, and—I—love it all!”
He had fastened the door before he began to talk, but he caught her in his
arms now, regardless of the fact that the shades were not drawn down, and
that they swayed in the summer breeze.
“Oh, my darling! My wife!” he cried, and kissed her lips for the third
time.
The world was changed then for those two. They belonged to each other they
believed, as no two that ever walked through Eden had ever belonged. When
they thought of the precious bond that bound them together their hearts
throbbed with a happiness that well-nigh overwhelmed them.
A dinner of stewed chickens and little white soda biscuits was served
them, fit for a wedding breakfast, for the barmaid whispered to the cook
that she was sure there was a bride and groom in the parlor they looked so
happy and seemed to forget anybody else was by. But it might have been ham
and eggs for all they knew what it was they ate, these two who were so
happy they could but look into each other’s eyes.
When the dinner was over and they started on their way again, with Albany
shimmering in the hot sun in the distance, and David’s arm sliding from
the top of the seat to circle Marcia’s waist, David whispered:
“This is our real wedding journey, dearest, and this is our bridal day.
We’ll go to Albany and buy you a trousseau, and then we will go wherever
you wish. I can stay a whole week if you wish. Would you like to go home
for a visit?”
Marcia, with shining eyes and glowing cheeks, looked her love into his
face and answered: “Yes, _now_ I would like to go home,—just for a few
days—and then back to our home.”
And David looking into her eyes understood why she had not wanted to go
before. She was taking her husband, _her_ husband, not Kate’s, with her
now, and might be proud of his love. She could go among her old comrades
and be happy, for he loved her. He looked a moment, comprehended,
sympathized, and then pressing her hand close—for he might not kiss her,
as there was a load of hay coming their way—he said: “Darling!” But their
eyes said more.
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Re-issues of the great literary successes of the time. Library size.
Printed on excellent paper—most of them with illustrations of marked
beauty—and handsomely bound in cloth. Price, 75 cents a volume, postpaid.
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THE SPIRIT OF THE SERVICE. By Edith Elmer Wood. With illustrations by
Rufus Zogbaum.
The standards and life of “the new navy” are breezily set forth with a
genuine ring impossible from the most gifted “outsider.” “The story of the
destruction of the ‘Maine,’ and of the Battle of Manila, are very
dramatic. The author is the daughter of one naval officer and the wife of
another. Naval folks will find much to interest them in ‘The Spirit of the
Service.’”—_The Book Buyer._
A SPECTRE OF POWER. By Charles Egbert Craddock.
Miss Murfree has pictured Tennessee mountains and the mountain people in
striking colors and with dramatic vividness, but goes back to the time of
the struggles of the French and English in the early eighteenth century
for possession of the Cherokee territory. The story abounds in adventure,
mystery, peril and suspense.
THE STORM CENTRE. By Charles Egbert Craddock.
A war story; but more of flirtation, love and courtship than of fighting
or history. The tale is thoroughly readable and takes its readers again
into golden Tennessee, into the atmosphere which has distinguished all of
Miss Murfree’s novels.
THE ADVENTURESS. By Coralie Stanton. With color frontispiece by Harrison
Fisher, and attractive inlay cover in colors.
As a penalty for her crimes, her evil nature, her flint-like callousness,
her more than inhuman cruelty, her contempt for the laws of God and man,
she was condemned to bury her magnificent personality, her transcendent
beauty, her superhuman charms, in gilded obscurity at a King’s left hand.
A powerful story powerfully told.
THE GOLDEN GREYHOUND. A Novel by Dwight Tilton. With illustrations by E.
Pollak.
A thoroughly good story that keeps you guessing to the very end, and never
attempts to instruct or reform you. It is a strictly up-to-date story of
love and mystery with wireless telegraphy and all the modern improvements.
The events nearly all take place on a big Atlantic liner and the romance
of the deep is skilfully made to serve as a setting for the romance, old
as mankind, yet always new, involving our hero.
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GROSSET & DUNLAP, - NEW YORK
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ERRATA
CHAPTER I
Changed: girl in the *fairy tale* who left jewels
To: girl in the *fairy-tale* who left jewels
CHAPTER I
Changed: ever walked in *fairy tale*. But she saw
To: ever walked in *fairy-tale*. But she saw
CHAPTER III
Changed: before, but covered *wth* confusion and shame,
To: before, but covered *with* confusion and shame,
CHAPTER III
Changed: and she turned *delberately*, one dainty, slippered
To: and she turned *deliberately*, one dainty, slippered
CHAPTER V
Changed: her that this *wholsale* disposal of Marcia
To: her that this *wholesale* disposal of Marcia
CHAPTER V
Changed: Phoebe takes your place and then come back.* *
To: Phoebe takes your place and then come back.*”*
CHAPTER V
Changed: fine places, to *tea drinkings* and the like,
To: fine places, to *tea-drinkings* and the like,
CHAPTER VI
Changed: out radiant and *childlike* through her tears.
To: out radiant and *child-like* through her tears.
CHAPTER X
Changed: was always something *childlike* about Marcia’s
To: was always something *child-like* about Marcia’s
CHAPTER X
Changed: her old home *plentfully* supplied with those
To: her old home *plentifully* supplied with those
CHAPTER XII
Changed: got David that’s worth everything.* *
To: got David that’s worth everything.*”*
CHAPTER XII
Changed: position on the *haircloth* sofa. But if
To: position on the *hair-cloth* sofa. But if
CHAPTER XIII
Changed: had Mary Ann’s *hand-writing* looked so pleasant
To: had Mary Ann’s *handwriting* looked so pleasant
CHAPTER XIII
Changed: seemed half a *life-time* to the girl
To: seemed half a *lifetime* to the girl
CHAPTER XIII
Changed: my old calico *tomorrow* morning again, and
To: my old calico *to-morrow* morning again, and
CHAPTER XIII
Changed: house with big *collums* to the front
To: house with big *columns* to the front
CHAPTER XV
Changed: table, and the *tea-kettle* was singing on
To: table, and the *tea kettle* was singing on
CHAPTER XV
Changed: The neighbor had *staid* longer than usual,
To: The neighbor had *stayed* longer than usual,
CHAPTER XVI
Changed: thus melted into *childlike* enthusiasm, felt his
To: thus melted into *child-like* enthusiasm, felt his
CHAPTER XVIII
Changed: with the flickering *candle-light* making grotesque
To: with the flickering *candle light* making grotesque
CHAPTER XVIII
Changed: Bible where the *candle-light* played at glances
To: Bible where the *candle light* played at glances
CHAPTER XXI
Changed: if he would *absord* the vision for
To: if he would *absorb* the vision for
CHAPTER XXII
Changed: and let the *floodtide* of his sorrow
To: and let the *flood-tide* of his sorrow
CHAPTER XXII
Changed: an’ hopin’ an’ *tryin* fer somebody bigger.
To: an’ hopin’ an’ *tryin’* fer somebody bigger.
CHAPTER XXII
Changed: There’s no place like home.*’*
To: There’s no place like home.* *
CHAPTER XXIV
Changed: * *MIRANDA GRISCOM.”
To: *“*MIRANDA GRISCOM.”
CHAPTER XXVI
Changed: all items accurate* * technicalities of preparation;
To: all items accurate*;* technicalities of preparation;
CHAPTER XXVII
Changed: need all the rest you can get.* *
To: need all the rest you can get.*”*
CHAPTER XXVII
Changed: had before—all your own I mean?* *
To: had before—all your own I mean?*”*
CHAPTER XXVII
Changed: any bonnet. Nothing but a pink sunbonnet.* *
To: any bonnet. Nothing but a pink sunbonnet.*”*
CHAPTER XXVII
Changed: a little old *haircloth* trunk, her own
To: a little old *hair-cloth* trunk, her own
CHAPTER XXVII
Changed: had done when* *a boy Aunt Clarinda
To: had done when* as *a boy Aunt Clarinda
CHAPTER XXVII
Changed: Kate a mere *common-place*? What was this
To: Kate a mere *commonplace*? What was this
CHAPTER XXIX
Changed: Marcia lift her *flowerlike* face, all bright
To: Marcia lift her *flower-like* face, all bright
AD PAGES
Changed: love story well told.”—_Boston Transcript_*,*
To: love story well told.”—_Boston Transcript_*.*
AD PAGES
Changed: by Frank Haviland. *Medalion* in color on
To: by Frank Haviland. *Medallion* in color on
AD PAGES
Changed: *Suberb* color portraits of many familiar flowers
To: *Superb* color portraits of many familiar flowers
AD PAGES
Changed: her magnificent *personalty*, her transcendent
To: her magnificent *personality*, her transcendent