A REVELATION
It was a lovely journey if the term could be applied to the
old-fashioned stagecoach. But the season of the year, the bloom and
beauty everywhere, and the pleasant companionship lightened the few
discomforts for Daffodil. There are natures that refrain from spoiling
anticipations by cares or perplexities left behind, and hers was one.
Indeed, hers was not complex, and people, women especially, had not
learned to crowd so many interests, and fears, and hopes together. She
would see those she loved the best, yes, she did love them the best of
all now.
How glad they were to get her back! Yes, there were changes and
changes. New business plans and firms, old ones enlarged, discoveries
of coal and iron all about, materials for glass-making, a paper mill
under consideration.
But the war was not yet over. The advisers of the King had begun to
adopt a tone of insolence toward the young Republic; indeed, in spite
of peace being signed, there was still an endeavor to stir up the
Indians on the outskirts of many of the towns. The Indian villages
along the Maumee received supplies of arms and ammunition, and were
fortifying their own forts. The alarm spread down the Ohio. The
British had not yet given up all the forts they had held in the
preceding war, in spite of the agreements.
Tired of inaction, Lieutenant Langdale had, with several others,
offered his services to General Anthony Wayne, as there was great need
of trained officers. So Mrs. Langdale was doubly delighted with this
visit of her son, of whom she was quite as proud as of her soldier.
"And I hope you have made good your chance with Daffodil Carrick," she
said to him a few days after his return. "She'll be quite worth the
winning, even if the father's money should all go to the son, who is a
very promising lad, I hear. But they count on having a big place over
the river, and that is all her share. One of you boys ought to win
her. I thought it would be Ned. And you have had a chance all winter."
Archibald smiled, but there was no disappointment in it.
"She was a great favorite all through the winter, and she can marry
any time she likes. But I have too much to do to take upon myself
family cares, and I think she isn't the sort of girl to be in a hurry.
We are just fine, sincere friends."
"But I want you to marry. And I've counted on grandchildren. I wish I
had you both settled just around me. I shall be a lonesome old woman."
"Then when I am rich enough to set up a house, you shall come and live
with me."
"Do you think Dilly's going to let that miserable mess of a marriage
spoil all her life?"
"Oh, she is very happy, mother; girls don't marry as young as they
did, and it is a good thing, too. They have some years of bright, gay
girlhood, and won't get worn out so soon. Daffodil is a charming
girl."
"But she's getting quite along, and it isn't like being a widow
either," said the mother, who thought every girl ought to marry.
Daffodil watched mother and grandmere with longing eyes. Yes,
grandmere _was_ getting old. Her mother was losing the pretty
girlishness, but she was very happy in her husband, and her son, who
was tall and very good-looking, quite toned down in manner.
The house had no more changes. Here was her pretty room. Oh, yes,
there was a new bright rag carpet on the floor. She went around with a
tender touch on everything, patting the white pillow-slips,
straightening a picture or two, and wondering in a curious fashion if
sometime her brother's wife would be here and a group of merry
children--she hoped there would be a houseful of them. And gran would
be a great-grandfather, and sit in the big chair at the corner of the
fireplace, that he had covered over with buckskin of his own tanning.
Where she would be she did not plan. Only she would not mind being an
old maid, she thought.
Everybody in the little circle supposed she would marry Dr. Langdale,
and were surprised when his mother sorrowfully admitted it was not to
be.
"There's them that goes through the woods, and picks up a crooked
stick at the last;" and Norah shook her head resentfully.
"My stick won't be crooked, I promise you," laughed the girl.
"You may have no stick at all and go limping afoot and alone," was the
curt rejoinder.
She was very happy, why she could hardly tell, for she felt she ought
not to be. There came a letter with the stamp of the office on it and
it had two enclosures. Her guardian's was most pleasant and fatherly.
They missed her very much, but Mrs. Jarvis had taken on a new phase of
kindliness so that he should not long too much for Daffodil, and Aldis
was like a son. They went out driving together. And Aldis had grown so
fond of the garden that he had not used to care much about. The
weather was fine and he really was quite well for an old gentleman.
She almost dreaded to open the other. A blinding sort of consciousness
pervaded her as if she were a prisoner, as if there was asked of her
a curious, undefined surrender that she could hardly understand.
Before, she had gone on simply and been overtaken, as it were, given
without knowing just what she gave. Was it because she was older,
wiser? She had still to learn that there were many mysteries in love
that only a lifetime could explain.
She let her eyes wander over it in a vague sort of fashion. Did she
really belong to him? He seemed to take possession of her in a way
that she could not gainsay, could not even refuse.
But did she want to refuse?
She went out to the keeping room after awhile. Her mother sat alone,
sewing some trifle. She came and laid both letters in her lap, then
went and sat on the door sill where a great maple threw its green arms
about in the soft breeze. There was a cuckoo somewhere, a
yellow-hammer searching for half-hidden food, and a thrush with his
long, sweet note.
"Yes," her mother remarked, as if in answer to a question. "He laid
the matter before your father a month ago in the letter that came with
you."
"Oh!" Then after a long while--"Mother, it is nothing like it was
before. Then I did not doubt myself, now I wonder. He is so wise in
many ways, I feel as if I had to reach up and up and I am a little
afraid. I have seen so many fine girls in the city. And beautiful
women."
"The woman a man chooses is the best to him always."
She did not torment herself with the thought that he was doing this
for her guardian's sake. She felt that he was not the kind of man to
take the mere crumbs of love while some one else feasted on the heart
of love divine. What troubled her was whether she could love enough.
And she hated to think there had been any previous regard. But did he
not say, too, that he had been fascinated by an unworthy liking?
The summer seemed to check the wave of prosperity and men looked at
each other in half affright. For no one knew just how the tide might
turn. When the Indians made their sortie on Fort Recovery word came
that the garrison had been massacred, but Captain Gibson bravely held
it in spite of an all-day attack, and at night the enemy retreated.
General Wayne was in command of all the forces and the Indians made
various feints, hoping to be joined by the British, who were urging
them on, but there was no big regular battle until that of Fallen
Timbers, where a tornado had swept through the woods some time before.
A few miles below was a British fort, the meeting place of the western
fur traders. It was a hard fought field, but the victory for the
Americans was such a signal one that it ended the terror of a frontier
war that had hung over the border so long.
No town rejoiced more than Pittsburg, which lost some men and was
proud of heroes who had come through the conflict unscathed. Among
these was Lieutenant Langdale, whose bravery and foresight gained him
a captaincy.
"He's a brave fellow!" declared grandad, and Daffodil was glad he had
won some of the fame and glory for which he had longed.
"It's fine to be a soldier when you can fight and have nothing happen
to you," declared Felix. "But I wouldn't want to be among the killed.
There's so many splendid things in life. I hope I will live to be a
hundred."
There were many matters to share Daffodil's attention, though she did
miss the bright society and the knowledge branching out on every side.
Yet these girls who had married half a dozen years ago and had grown
common and careless with their little ones about them seemed very
happy. It certainly was an industrious community, but they played as
they worked. There were games that would have been no discredit to
modern scores, there was dancing and merriment and happiness as well.
Was Daffodil learning her lesson? Aldis Bartram thought very slowly.
But he was a man who prized hard won contests. And if with the
attractive young men about her through the winter she had not been
won, then she was not an easy prize. He smiled at times over her
careful and futile reasoning. At least they would have the winter to
go over the ground. And though he was becoming an ardent lover he was
not an impatient one.
There are some events and decisions in life that are precipitated by a
shock, the film that held one in thrall, veiling the clear sight, is
suddenly disrupted. And this happened to Daffodil Carrick. Her father
put an English paper in her hand one evening as he came up the path
where roses were still blooming. It had been remailed in Philadelphia.
"From Madame Clerval," she said with a smile. "Some gay doings, I
fancy. She has friends in London."
She glanced it over carelessly. The summer struggles had made her more
of a patriot, and brought to her mind vividly the morning she had run
out to know the cause of Kirsty Boyle's call and the ringing of his
bell. A very little girl. She was always glad she had heard it.
She turned the paper to and fro rather impatiently. Oh, what was here
with the black insignia of death: "_Died, at Hurst Abbey, of a
malignant fever. Margaretta, wife of Jeffrey, Lord Andsdell, only
remaining son of the Earl of Wrenham._"
She was not interested in the beauty of the bride, who had been a
great belle in her day and won no little fame on the stage, nor the
terrible accident that had deprived the Earl of two older sons and
two grandsons, paving the way for the succession of Lord Andsdell. She
shuddered and turned ghostly pale, and was terrified with a strange
presentiment. But she could not talk of it just yet and was glad Norry
and grandad came in to spend the evening with them.
The next morning she gave her father a little note with "important"
written on the corner of the folded paper.
"What now?" enquired her father laughingly, "Did you forget your
postscript?"
She assented with a nod.
Then she went about her daily duties, but a great terror surged at her
heart. She was to remember through everything that she was the only
woman Jeffrey Andsdell loved. Long ago she had cast it out. No doubt
he had been happy in his ancestral home, at least, he had chosen that,
well, wisely, too. But to ask that the woman he wronged should cling
to her burthen!
How slowly the days passed. Aldis Bartram might have been away when
the note came--he had been to Baltimore on some troublesome
business--but waiting seemed very hard. And when it drew near to the
time, she used to take different paths down by the square where the
stage came in, just far enough away to see, but not be seen, and stand
with a blushing face and a strange trembling at her heart. One day
she was rewarded. There was the manly figure, the erect head, the
firm, yet elastic step. A sudden pride leaped up in her heart.
She waylaid him in a bypath.
"Daffodil!" he cried in surprise. "What has happened?
"Nothing, nothing; I wanted to see you," but her voice trembled. "Come
this way."
"How mysterious you are!" If she meant to give him his _congé_ she
could have done it better by letter. And the clasp of her hand on his
arm had a clinging force.
"There is something for you to see. Let us turn here."
After a space through intervening trees they came to the open, where
she paused and unfolded a paper she had held in her hand. "Read this,"
she said, and he stared a moment silently.
One moment, another moment. How still it was, every bird had hushed
its singing, even the crickets were not chirping.
"He will come back to America. He will come back for you now that he
is free," Bartram subjoined hoarsely. Should he hold her or let her
go? Was the old love----
She faced him and slipped both hands over his shoulders, clasped them
at the back of his neck. It seemed to him he had never seen such an
entrancing light in her eyes.
"Aldis," she began, with tremulous sweetness, "I would rather be your
wife than the greatest duchess of them all." And then she hid her
blushing face on his breast.
It would not be raised, but he kissed the brow, the eyelids, and said
in a shaken voice:
"Were you afraid----"
Then she raised the sweet face where he saw tears and the quick rifts
of color, but there were high lights of resolve in the beautiful eyes.
"Not afraid anything could rekindle the glamor of that mistake, nor
any repentance on his part mend the deception. I was a child then. I
did not understand the depths that go to the making of a true love.
All summer I have been learning----"
Then she paused and hid her face again.
"And there is a great deal more to learn, sweetheart. We shall go on
studying the delightful lesson all our lives, I trust, and never reach
the bottom of the cup of joy. Daffodil, you have already roused me to
a wider, higher life. A year ago I would not have been worthy of you.
Yes, I was blind and self-engrossed then. We will study the sweet
lesson together."
Then they paused at a fallen log, not the old place that she never
cared to see again. A little stream came trickling down the high hill
and there were tender bird voices as accompaniments to the delicious
confession. It had grown slowly, she was so afraid of another mistake,
but he would never need to doubt its truth, its duration, its
comprehensiveness.
It seemed minutes only and yet held the mysterious sweetness of hours.
Then she heard a voice calling.
"Why--see! It is almost night! And that is Felix's voice. Oh, what
have I been doing?" and she rose in a startled manner.
"We will explain our iniquity," he said laughingly.
They met Felix. "Oh!" he exclaimed in surprise. "We couldn't think!
And we had supper."
Then mother said, "Why, did you come in the stage? That was here hours
ago," to Mr. Bartram, in a wondering tone.
"Yes; but we had a good deal of business to settle. I hope you didn't
eat up all the supper?"
He studied them both curiously. Daffodil's face was scarlet.
"Mr. Bartram, are you going to marry her?" he asked with a boy's frank
eagerness.
"I hope to. Are you going to object?"
"No," rather reluctantly. "Only I wish you were going to live here."
Bernard Carrick had gone downtown. It showed the strides Pittsburg had
made when there was already a downtown. Barbe stood in the doorway
watching, for now the sky was growing gray with coming evening. But
before Mr. Bartram spoke, she knew. One of the delights of the other
engagement had been the certainty of keeping her daughter, now the
pang of separation pierced her to the quick.
"Mrs. Carrick," he said in an appealing tone, "will you take me for a
son?" but Daffodil kissed her.
They did not want much supper, but the others returned to the table
and talked. He had only come for a few days, but he begged that they
might have a wedding in the early fall, just as soon as possible
indeed, for the journey was so long they could not afford to waste
much time in courtship. They must be lovers afterward.
So, after much discussion to shorten the time, mid-September was
settled upon.
"Oh," Daffodil said in her most adorable tone, "I shall pray daily
that nothing will befall you, that God will send you back safely to
me."
"And I shall be praying for you. Love surely opens one's heart to
God."
There was not much to be made ready. The girl laid aside this and that
for the son's wife when he should take one, "for," said she, "there is
so much in my new house already. And Felix must marry young, so you
will have a new daughter in my place."
She would not be married in church nor wear the olden wedding gown.
"Let it skip a generation," she said, "and that may change the luck."
So the time came and the lover so full of impatience. She would have
the ceremony in the old room that had been so interwoven with her
life, and she fancied the spirit of great-grandfather was sitting
there in the old chair and she went for his blessing.
The little girl passed out of Old Pittsburg and left behind lonely
hearts. Grandad could not be reconciled, there were some fine young
fellows in the town that would make good husbands. But Norah gave her
a blessing and the best of wishes. So Daffodil Bartram went out to her
new life, wondering how one could be so glad and happy when they were
leaving behind so much love.
Old Pittsburg did not vanish with the little girl, however. But she
went on her way steadily, industriously. The new century came in with
great acclaim. Shipbuilding prospered. Iron foundries sprang up. The
glass works went from the eight pots and the capacity of three boxes
at a blowing to double that number, then doubled it again. The
primitive structure erected by George Anshuts before the century ended
was the progenitor of many others sending their smoke defiantly up in
the clear sky. And all along the Monogahela valley as well as in
other places the earth gave up its stores of coal as it had given up
its stores of iron.
And in 1816 Pittsburg was incorporated as a city and had a mayor and
aldermen and her own bank. It was a new Pittsburg then, a hive of
human industry, where one business after another gathered and where
fortunes were evolved from real work, and labor reaps a rich reward.
There are not many of the old things left. The block house built in
1764 by Colonel Bouquet still stands. A great depot covers the site of
the ancient Fort, and the spot of Braddock's defeat. But there are
Duquesne Heights, all her hills have not been levelled, if most of the
old things have passed away. She is the workshop of the world now, one
writer calls her "the most unique city in the world." And she has not
neglected the finer arts of beautifying. She has magnificent
buildings, fine libraries, and cultivated people, musical societies,
and half a hundred benevolent institutions. And we must not forget
that in six days after the firing on Fort Sumter a company of
Pittsburgers marched to Washington and offered their services to the
secretary of war.
If the little girl had vanished, Daffodil Bartram found much happiness
in the new home. M. de Ronville was not only delighted, but grateful
over his two children who were not of kindred blood, but of the finer
and higher kin of love. There came children to the household, three
boys and one golden-haired girl, but he did not quite reach the years
of his friend Duvernay. And when the two older sons were grown they
cast their lot with Allegheny City, which in the course of time grew
into a lovely residential city, free from smoke and dust and noise,
and theirs proved a noble patrimony. The Bartrams still had a son and
daughter, and the journey to Pittsburg no longer had to be made in a
stage coach.
Felix Duvernay Carrick made one of the notable citizens of the town,
the author of several useful inventions and a most thriving business
man, not needing any of his sister's fortune, for grandad left him
one, beside the one he was making with his brains and industry. And
Barbe was a happy grandmother to a merry flock, but she would never
leave the old house, though the farm was cut up by streets and houses
crowded in upon them. And she kept her bed of daffodils to the very
last.
If there was not so much romance, it was the old story of the
Rhinegelt of the land and the rivers yielding up such treasures as few
cities possess, but without the tragedy of their legend. Work and
thrift and the ingenuity of man have reared a magnificent city.
[Illustration]
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Handsome Cloth Binding. Price, 60 Cents Per Volume.
In this series of remarkable stories by Wilmer M. Ely are described
the adventures of two boy chums--Charley West and Walter Hazard--in
the great swamps of interior Florida and among the cays off the
Florida Coast, and through the Bahama Islands. These are real, live
boys, and their experiences are well worth following. If you read one
book you will surely be anxious for those that are to follow.
THE BOY CHUMS ON INDIAN RIVER, or The Boy Partners of the Schooner
"Orphan."
In this story Charley West and Walter Hazard meet deadly rattlesnakes;
have a battle with a wild panther; are attacked by outlaws; their boat
is towed by a swordfish; they are shipwrecked by a monster manatee
fish, and pass safely through many exciting scenes of danger.
THE BOY CHUMS ON HAUNTED ISLAND, or Hunting for Pearls in the Bahama
Islands.
This book tells the story of the boy chums, Charley West and Walter
Hazard, whose adventures on the schooner "Eager Quest," hunting for
pearls among the Bahama Islands, are fully recorded. Their hairbreadth
escapes from the treacherous quicksands and dangerous water spouts;
how they lost their vessel and were cast away on a lonely island, and
their escape therefrom are fully told.
THE BOY CHUMS IN THE FOREST, or Hunting for Plume Birds in the Florida
Everglades.
The story of the boy chums hunting the blue herons and the pink and
white egrets for their plumes in the forests of Florida is full of
danger and excitement. How the chums encountered the Indians; their
battles with the escaped convicts; their fight with the wild boars and
alligators are fully told.
THE BOY CHUMS' PERILOUS CRUISE, or Searching for Wreckage on the
Florida Coast.
This story of the boy chums' adventures on and off the Florida Coast
describes many scenes of daring and adventure, in hunting for ships
stranded and cargoes washed ashore. The boy chums passed through many
exciting scenes, on shore and island; and the loss of their vessel,
the "Eager Quest," they will long remember.
THE BOY CHUMS IN THE GULF OF MEXICO, or a Dangerous Cruise with the
Greek Spongers.
This story of the boy chums, Charley West and Walter Hazard, hunting
for sponges, is filled with many adventures. The dangers of gathering
sponges are fully described; the chums meet with sharks and
alligators; and they are cast away on a desert island. Their rescue
and arrival home make a most interesting story.
The Boy Scout Series
By HERBERT CARTER
New stories of Camp Life, telling the wonderful and thrilling
adventures of the Boys of the Silver Fox Patrol. HANDSOME CLOTH
BINDINGS.
PRICE, 60 CENTS PER VOLUME
THE BOY SCOUTS FIRST CAMP FIRE; or, Scouting with the Silver Fox
Patrol.
This book, every up-to-date Boy Scout will want to read. It is
brimming over with thrilling adventure, woods lore and the story of
the wonderful experiences that befel the Cranford troop of Boy Scouts
when spending a part of their vacation in the wilderness. The story is
clean and wholesome in tone, yet with not a dull line from cover to
cover.
THE BOY SCOUTS IN THE BLUE RIDGE; or, Marooned Among the Moonshiners.
Those lads who have read The Boy Scouts First Camp Fire and followed
the fortunes of Thad Brewster, the Young Patrol leader, will be
delighted to read this story. It tells of the strange and mysterious
adventures that happened to the Patrol in their trip through the
"mountains of the sky" in the Moonshiners' Paradise of the old Tar
Heel State, North Carolina. When you start to read you will not lay
the book down until the last word has been reached.
THE BOY SCOUTS ON THE TRAIL; or, Scouting through the Big Game
Country.
In this story the Boy Scouts once more find themselves in camp and
following the trail. The story recites the many adventures that befel
the members of the Silver Fox Patrol with wild animals of the forest
trails, as well as the desperate men who had sought a refuge in this
lonely country, making most delightful reading for every lad who has
red blood in his veins. This is a story which every boy will be glad
to read and recommend to his chums.
THE BOY SCOUTS IN THE MAINE WOODS; or, The New Test for the Silver Fox
Patrol.
In the rough field of experience the tenderfoots and greenhorns of the
Silver Fox Patrol are fast learning to take care of themselves when
abroad. Many of the secrets of the woods, usually known only to old
hunters and trappers, are laid bare to the eyes of the reader. Thad
and his chums have a wonderful experience when they are employed by
the State of Maine to act as Fire Wardens, since every year terrible
conflagrations sweep through the pine forests, doing great damage.
THE BOY SCOUTS THROUGH THE BIG TIMBER; or, The Search for the Lost
Tenderfoot.
A serious calamity threatens the Silver Fox Patrol when on one of
their vacation trips to the wonderland of the great Northwest. How
apparent disaster is bravely met and overcome by Thad and his friends,
forms the main theme of the story, which abounds in plenty of humor,
rollicking situations, hairbreadth escapes and thrilling adventures,
such as all boys like to read about. If you ever dream of camping out
in the woods, here you may learn how to do it.
THE BOY SCOUTS IN THE ROCKIES; or, The Secret of The Hidden Silver
Mine.
By this time the boys of the Silver Fox Patrol have learned through
experience how to rough it upon a long hike. Their last tour takes
them into the wildest region of the great Rocky Mountains, and here
they meet with many strange adventures that severely test their grit,
as well as their ability to grapple with emergencies. This is one of
the most interesting of the stories in the Boy Scout Series,--the
experiences of Thad Brewster and his Cranford troop abounds in plenty
of humor, and hairbreadth escapes.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent post-paid on receipt of price by
the publishers, A. L. BURT COMPANY, 52-58 Duane Street, New York