"Society is like a piece of frozen water; and skating well the
great art of social life."--_Letitia Elizabeth Landon._
"Too bad about Hayden, isn't it?" said one business man to another after
the crash came.
"Yes, I am sorry for him, but he is coming out honorably, and I hope
he'll commence again before long."
"Well, he is made of the right stuff if he did make one mistake, and I
guess he will never make the same blunder again. Too bad though about
his house. No insurance at all, and that was a magnificent property."
"Indeed it was, and I hope for his wife's sake he can sell the lot and
get another home for her."
"Can't do it now though--real estate is too low for any use in Hampton."
"Yes, that's so. The only way is to mortgage, and that seems a pity in
this case--" and they passed on out of hearing.
John Hayden, standing within the doorway of the open store, had
overheard the remarks, and while they pained, they cheered him. From
that moment his resolve was taken, and as soon as everything was
honorably settled he applied for credit of his old friends in the
wholesale houses and they gladly gave it, for his reputation was
unimpeachable.
Then he rented a modest little store and began anew.
Mrs. Hayden lay sick seven weeks, and arose a weak and nervous invalid,
"doomed to carry a still limb all her life," the physicians said. They
could not discover why her limb was stiff, but there was no help for it.
How did she bear the change in her life and circumstances? When her
husband told her, she just put her arms around his neck and whispered;
"All right, John, I shall do the best I can to help you bear it." And
from that moment they began life again. She did not even complain when
they were obliged to move into a small cottage in the suburbs, but it
was hard for her to be ignored and forgotten by the elegant social
world, where she had so recently been an acknowledged leader.
Alas! she had no sugar plums for society now, so it soon forgot her
existence. There were, however, some exceptions among her former
friends, and she was glad to welcome among her few visitors, Kate Turner
and Grace Hall, who had grown to love Mrs. Hayden more than they would
have thought possible when she seemed so high above them in the social
scale.
"She is turning out a saint rather than a sinner," said Kate one
evening, as they were discussing the Haydens and recalled the
conversation of the night of the party.
"Just wait awhile. Many people can be heroic in great things, but are
sadly deficient when it comes to the little things," said Grace, with
her usual caution. "I believe I could be a heroine myself, if some grand
opportunity came," she added, smiling.
"Oh, Grace, don't trifle so; you know this is a very serious matter with
Mr. and Mrs. Hayden, and they are both doing nobly," cried Kate, with
tears in her eyes.
"Well, queen Katherine, I don't mean any harm, and you must not think
anything of my brusque speeches. As you know, there is a tinge of
skepticism in me which I can not help, and my ideals are so much higher
than the realities of life, that I am always painfully conscious of the
difference."
"Well, what would you wish Mrs. Hayden to be like, for instance, in
order to come up to your ideal of the heroic woman?" asked Kate in a
softened tone.
"Kate dear, I love Mrs. Hayden as much as you do, and would not for a
moment disparage her virtues, but it strikes me as a philosophical fact
that as a rule, human nature can and does display wonderful courage in
great emergencies, but fails miserably in details, and this ought not to
be so. Nothing would please me better than to see one life prove that I
am wrong."
"That is all true, Gracie, about humanity in general, but she is lovely,
and I am sorry for her having to be lame all her life. It's a perfect
shame that she must lose even her health, for of course she will never
be strong again."
"Another defect to be noted somewhere in the universal economy. It seems
to me we are pretty helpless creatures, generally speaking, for it all
appears to be a matter of chance whether we get well or not, when we
_do_ get sick," mused Grace, bent upon drawing her own conclusions.
Poor girl! Life had been rather hard for her, and she judged it as it
appeared, and there _did_ seem a great flaw somewhere which she was
trying her best to solve by noting every phase of life as she found it.
Naturally bright, keenly intellectual and very independent, she was a
philosopher as well as an artist, and always ready for a tilt with the
world on its most petted opinions. Hers was a reasoning mind that
observed all inconsistencies and discrepancies in anything she studied,
and there was generally a little acidity in her judgment of the world
and its bigoted ways.
"I can't see why Mrs. Hayden should not be cured completely," continued
Kate, ignoring her companion's last shot, "for it wasn't so bad that
anybody knew of until she got up."
"My dear madam," said Grace, striking an owlish attitude, "you have not
read the latest opinion expressed by one of the most learned professors
in the Allopathic school of medicine in Paris. He stood before the class
of graduating students and said: 'Gentlemen, you have done me the honor
to come here to listen to a lecture on the science of medicine. I must
frankly confess I know nothing about it, and, moreover, know of no one
who does. Any one who takes medicine is fortunate if it helps him, but
more fortunate if it does not harm him.' Whether our friend is fortunate
or unfortunate is a question hard to decide. I move we discuss another
subject."
Kate laughed in spite of herself, and Grace got up to take another view
of the "Modern Hypatia," which at last was growing into a visible
creation under her skillful brush.
"Isn't that a woman for you?" she said, pointing to the picture
admiringly, as she held it under the gas light.
"Yes, I like her better than Hebe. She has a look of reserved power
about her that is captivating, but there is something in her face that
makes me sad, something that is lacking."
"What is it? Tell me, for _I_ can see nothing!" Grace questioned
impetuously.
"Wait a minute, perhaps I can define it. There! hold it so. Let me see,"
and Kate walked off a few paces.
"Yes, it is dissatisfaction, an incompleteness, as though she had not
found what she sought."
"Can you see that, Kate? Then I am at the same time the most happy and
unhappy creature alive," cried Grace, breathlessly dropping into a chair
and holding the picture fondly near her face.
"Why?" said the astonished Kate.
"Don't you know I am forever putting myself into my pictures? And I've
succeeded too admirably with this one. The poor thing has caught my
unconscious fault of finding defects everywhere. Oh, I must get it out
of her some way; how shall I, when to me she looks so perfect?"
"You better get it out of yourself first, if that is the trouble,"
replied Kate, with a great wave of pity in her voice.
"I wish I could. Oh, why do I have to see everything in the wrong way?
It seems to me life would be heavenly, if I could know only the good in
everything." Grace put down the picture and gazed at it with stern,
accusing eyes. "I shall leave this one and begin another to-morrow," she
finally announced in a subdued tone.
"I am glad you won't rub this out, for she is too lovely," said Kate,
softly, as she went about, gently putting things in order, picking up
her music and arranging the books.
Grace sat there brooding over her life problems with a new thought in
her mind. She dimly realized that a woman must have a genuine message
herself before she tries to give it to the world. And alas, her message
was sadly deficient, she found. Mechanically she took a book from the
table and opening it at random, read:
"If the whole is ever to gladden thee,
That whole in the smallest thing thou must see."
"That is not bad philosophy, whose is it?" she thought. She looked at
the book. It was Goethe's poems, but she was not in the mood for
reading, and she sat thinking till late at night. This was a new
sentiment. She would digest it and test its practical truth.