"She has plenty of spirit too, and wit."
"Yes, indeed. In whatever company she is, she makes her mark."
"And it is never a black and blue one either," responded Hilda, passing
her handkerchief over her lips as she returned the rapt gaze of the
earnest face drinking in her words. "There is so much in that. Her wit
could never hurt. Her uniform, considerate kindness is her most
prominent trait."
"Yes," responded Page, faithfully antiphonal. "Only a pure, true heart
like hers could prompt such behavior."
"There is a subtle charm and stimulus in her society."
"And a restfulness, a satisfaction. It is hard to word it, but you have
felt it; you recognize it. One can only say, it is good to be in her
presence."
Hilda pushed back her chair so suddenly that her companion started.
"Gorham Page," she said, gazing at him with sparkling eyes, and rising,
"don't you see what has happened?"
"No," he answered, removing his fixed gaze and pushing aside the vines,
the better to peer about.
"Not out there!" exclaimed his sister.
"Oh," he answered mildly. "I thought perhaps Blitzen had killed
Electra."
Mrs. Page burst into laughter. Peal after peal broke from her, and she
clasped her hand to her side.
Robert appeared on the scene.
"It is time you arrived," said Gorham, vaguely smiling. "I haven't the
least idea what ails Hilda."
Mrs. Page dropped her head on her husband's shoulder.
"Gorham thought--thought that--that perhaps Blitzen--had killed
Electra," she gasped.
"How intensely amusing," remarked Robert. "This girl is tired to death,
Gorham," he went on, patting his wife's convulsed shoulder. "She thinks
she doesn't want to go home, but I know it is time. Mrs. Van Tassel
urges our remaining. What a spirit of sunshine she is! If ever there
was an angel in a house, she is one."
Hilda lifted her head, to look at Gorham's face. She found it beaming
upon his brother with tender delight, and falling back she relapsed into
another spasm of laughter.
"Stop this, stop this," said her husband, giving her a little shake.
"I am really afraid Hilda isn't well," said Gorham with concern. "I am
sorry if she is too tired, for I wanted to see if you all wouldn't like
to come over to the dance at the hotel to-night."
"That is sensible, profoundly sensible," remarked his brother. "What
could finish off a day at the Fair more appropriately than a dancing
party!"
"You've got to go, Robert," said Hilda, wiping her eyes. "It will be
lovely. We will smoke on the piazza, and watch the others through the
windows."
"Yes, I know how you enjoy looking on at a dancing party."
"Yes, thank you, Gorham, we will come," continued Mrs. Page
relentlessly. "I shall just go down to the Court of Honor for one last
look," she added, sighing. "I will go up in that little balcony at the
corner of the Electrical Building, and gaze once more down the stately,
spacious square. I shall see the peacock-blue lake through the columns
of the Peristyle, look up into the Italian sky roofing all, and say my
prayers or sing the doxology; then I shall come home and pack. Oh,
Robert, how can we leave it all!"
That evening Jack entered the parlor and found Clover leaning back in an
armchair. He dropped into a seat beside her.
"You look fitter to adorn some marble shrine in the White City than to
decorate a humdrum, mortal home," he remarked, regarding her thin gown
approvingly.
"I believe I never saw you before in a dress-suit," she answered lazily.
"You look very neat, my dear. That is what mother used to say to us to
suppress our vanity, when we were in festive array. It is rather
amusing to see Fair pilgrims in evening dress, isn't it?"
"Where is Mildred?" asked Van Tassel, looking about.
"She will be here directly. If my sister were entirely costumed at any
appointed time, I should be anxious about her."
"I haven't had a chance to confess before," went on Jack, low and
hastily. "I spoke to her too soon, after all. I need a keeper."
"Oh, Jack! I'm sorry."
Clover looked dismayed, and her tone was heart-felt.
"The milk is spilled, though; there is no going back. Didn't she tell
you?"
"No, indeed. When did it happen?"
"The night we took the gondola ride."
"Days since, then. You are a wonder, Jack. Are you going to stay here
and live it down?"
"I am going to stay here if you will let me."
"Let you? It is your home. Oh Jack, I am afraid of your tone. You
haven't given up. I must tell you, though, that Mildred would be
honest, uncompromisingly honest, in a serious matter like that. She is
not a coquette."
"I know it."
"If she doesn't love you, you do not want her."
"I don't know whether she loves me or not, and I don't believe she knows
any better."
As his handsome, frank eyes looked up at her, Clover's heart swelled
with the approval and admiration she felt.
"We must relax to it," she said involuntarily.
"Or brace up to it," he replied, with his brilliant smile; "but it is
too late now for the Petruchio act, Clover. I have literally and
figuratively given myself away."
"Yes," said the other simply; "what you have to do now is to leave her
in freedom. The Lord loves you both alike. If He does not give you
Mildred, it will be because that marriage would stand in the way of your
real advancement."
"Do you really believe that?" Van Tassel regarded her in curiosity and
surprise.
"Why, Jack, think it out some time. How can it be any other way?" she
answered, speaking hastily, for she heard a rustle on the stairs; and a
moment after her voice ceased, Mildred came into the room.
She was dressed in a pale violet gown, which revealed her superb neck,
and she pulled long gloves up over her bare arms as she came.
Jack sprang to his feet. How could she help liking the homage in his
eyes?
"I know I haven't kept you waiting," she said brightly, "for Mrs. Page's
light is still burning, and of course it will take her some little time
to wake up Mr. Page."
Hilda's feet, in their little black satin slippers, came flying down the
stairs as she spoke.
"Is Robert in a hammock?" she exclaimed apprehensively. "I meant to
stick them both full of pins, but I haven't had time. That poor dear
man has done a lot to-day, in spite of all my warnings. I expect he will
sleep from here to Boston, when we get started. You two girls look
perfectly lovely. I shall wake him up with that information."
As they were all finally setting out, Gorham Page came up the walk.
"I thought I would wander down and make sure of you," he said to Clover,
as he turned back beside her.
"You were sure of us," she returned. "I have not danced for five years.
It seems to me I should never have thought of it again but for your
invitation."
"You do not care for the amusement, then?"
"Clover Bryant used to care greatly," she said, smiling; "but perhaps
Mrs. Van Tassel has forgotten how to dance."
They found the long, spacious piazza of the hotel gay with promenaders.
Robert Page groaned. "How marvelous is the endurance of man and woman
kind," he remarked. "How many of these people do you suppose have been
doing the Fair to-day?"
"You mustn't talk about the Fair," returned his wife. "It is fortunate
for you that the diversion came up, else I should have spent this
evening weeping because I have said good-by."
"Have you come over here with the notion that I am going to dance?"
asked Page mildly.
"No, I haven't the least idea you will. I wouldn't ask it, since you
were foolish enough to tramp miles to-day."
"How could I help that, my dear, with the awful 'last chance' sensation
hanging over me?"
The orchestra in the hotel parlor began to play. Jack Van Tassel came up
to where the husband and wife were sitting.
"Are you going to dance, Hilda?"
"Apparently not," she answered gayly.
"Give me this, won't you?"
"Oh, you don't need to. Why, where are Mildred and Clover?"
"They are sitting over yonder. They have many friends here. It seems
to me this is rather a peculiar way for you to treat my invitation."
"No, Jack," said Page, with a heart-rending sigh. "The old man will have
to dance once. 'Let it be soon,' as the song says. Come, my love,
weary and footsore, let us tread the dreamy maze together."
"Robert really wants to dance," said Hilda to Van Tassel confidentially.
"The music inspires him. I haven't the heart to refuse. Thank you.
Perhaps later we can have a turn."
"Now, wasn't that sweet of Jack and exactly like him?" asked Hilda, when
they had drifted in among the floating couples. "He was afraid you were
going to be immovable; and the very first dance, when of course you
would suppose he would ask Mildred"--
"Or Mrs. Van Tassel, according to your theories."
"My dear, I am shaken on my theories. I may have been wrong. I hope I
have been. What do you think, Robert?"
"I can't tell any of my thoughts while I am dancing, Hilda. Don't ask
it. If you do, I shall probably step on your foot. I have the greatest
sympathy with the man who, when his partner insisted on talking to him
in a round dance, replied as follows: Yes, two, three; one, no, three;
one, two, yes; and so forth."
"What a goose you are, dear; but you dance as well as you ever did, if
you have forgotten how to say sweet nothings during a waltz."
"Pray remember how much more breath I used to have. The spirit is
willing still, but the flesh is too many for me."
"There go Gorham and Clover," said Mrs. Page with some excitement,
pausing in the dance, and taking her husband's willing arm. "Robert, I
want you to watch Gorham to-night," she added impressively.
"More mysteries?" returned Page plaintively. "I don't see anything out
of the way about him. He is rather stunning in a dress-suit."
"I wonder if Clover thinks so," responded Hilda significantly.
"Oh, you are only marrying him again," remarked her husband, with an air
of enlightenment. "If all your plans succeeded, I don't know what would
become of Gorham. He couldn't even take refuge in Utah, for I
understand the Mormons are discouraging plural marriages."
"You can chaff, Robert; but mark my words, some day you will look back
to this evening and exclaim over my cleverness. I haven't told you all
I know. I have proofs, if I chose to"--
"Yes, my dear, your fate is the common one of those who cry 'Wolf' too
often. I've heard your proofs before." Then squeezing his wife's hand
against his side, he added, "There isn't another Hilda for poor Gorham,
so how can I take a breathless interest in his prospects?"
Mrs. Page was mollified, of course; but she shrugged her shoulder. "I
don't understand how you can see those four people together and not
weave romances. Now, for instance, I am burning to know why Mildred and
Jack are not dancing this first dance together, instead of with
Lieutenant Eames and his cousin. I dare say poor Jack lost his chance
by coming to take care of me."
But Hilda was wrong. A little circle of friends had gathered about
Clover and Mildred as soon as they appeared on the hotel piazza, and
Mildred saw at once in Jack's quiet withdrawal that he did not intend to
ask any favor for himself. She liked this in theory, but it half-vexed
her to find herself alertly cognizant of his every movement even while
she chatted and laughed with her other friends. She saw him approach
Hilda, and wondered if he were asking her to dance; then, when the
latter moved away into the hotel with her husband, Mildred talked
volubly to Eames in order to prevent his having an opportunity to offer
himself for her partner. These dances were informal. There were no
printed programmes. She wished to give Jack time to return to their
group and claim her before the lieutenant should.
How exasperatingly deliberate his motions seemed to her, as he sauntered
along!
"I can easily believe what you say, Mr. Eames," she said glibly. "The
papers print a great many of the amusing blunders that are made, and I
am sure they are not exaggerated, by my own experience. There were two
women standing near me in front of the Manufactures Building the other
day, and one said to the other: 'Oh, look at that big statute of
Liberty; do you suppose it's solid gold?' 'No!' replied the other
scornfully, 'it's holler. If that was solid gold it would be worth ten
thousand dollars.' Then this sophisticated one turned to me. 'Can you
tell me where the Court of Honor is? Is it in the Administration
Building?' I answered that this was the Court of Honor, and I suppose I
gestured generally, for she looked down at the Basin and then at me with
a pitying smile. 'Oh no,' she said, 'that is the lagoon.'"
Why _would_ Jack stop to look in at the window? How slow he was! "Oh
yes, and, Mr. Eames, was there any truth in that story I read about the
battle-ship? Somebody says, you know, that although it looks so solid
and impressive, an angry man could do it considerable damage with a
crowbar, and I read lately about some country people who were visiting
it. While they were exploring, the ship's bells rang, and coincidently
the whistle of a neighboring tug began to blow. The story said those
poor people thought the boat was going to start and rushed for the
gang-plank, panic-stricken. One man fell into the water, and a woman
broke her ankle. It ought not to be amusing, but it is."
"Ha, ha," responded Eames, "there is a grain of truth in it;" (Jack was
drawing near) "the rest is the reporter's imagination. I can tell you
what was the foundation of that yarn." (Jack approached and stood near
the speaker.) "Won't you dance this with me, Miss Bryant, and I will
initiate you into some of the methods of newspaper men as discovered by
the officer-of-the-day at Jackson Park."
They moved away, and Helen Eames, who had audaciously escaped a would-be
partner in the hope of this very event, fell to Jack's lot.
She was a vivacious, jolly girl, and a man was not obliged to talk much
while with her, so Van Tassel yielded to her determination to detain him
at her side as long as was feasible.
Mildred, promenading with her partner on the piazza after the dance,
passed them sitting near the water where one could see, down the curve
of the lake, the fireworks of the White City bursting in starry
brilliance. Far out upon Michigan's breast shone a row of steady
lights, beside which, as on a liquid boulevard, the illuminated
passenger-boats plied up and down.
Van Tassel was playing with his companion's fan, and laughing as though
he were well entertained, at the moment Mildred passed by.
The sight did not please her.
"It is all my monumental vanity," she thought. "I am glad Jack isn't one
of the sort of men who stand around in corners and watch one
tragically."
She had danced several times when Clover, left near her by Gorham Page
while he went to bring her a glass of water, addressed her.
"You haven't danced with Jack once," she said, with hasty reproach.
"Haven't I?" Mildred raised her eyebrows.
"But aren't you going to, dear?"
"Not unless he asks me, darling."
Clover stared, then turned away to smile. She had not often seen
Mildred in such an ill-humor.
"Poor, dear, unconscious Petruchio," she reflected. "I wonder if he is
building better than he knows."
Here Page returned with the water, and she could say no more, even if
she wished. Moreover, Gorham now addressed Mildred, to claim the dance
for which the strains of the Washington Post March were already sounding
assertively.
Jack had this two-step with Hilda, and when it was over he brought her
to a seat near those which Mildred and Gorham had taken on the piazza.
"Mildred," remarked Hilda, "this young man does know how to dance."
Van Tassel bowed until the parting in his hair was visible.
"That is nice," returned Miss Bryant languidly.
"The fireworks are over," continued Hilda. "That awful word 'nevermore'
is hanging over everything for me to-night. I meant to be out here to
see the last piece, but I wasn't,--that superb volcano, or mine, or
whatever name they try to describe it by. I want you all to think of me
with compassion every time you see it hereafter. Where do you suppose
Robert is?"
"Perhaps I ought to know," suggested Gorham. "I will hunt him up if you
will allow me, Miss Mildred."
"I'll go with you," said Mrs. Page. "It is rather cool here to sit
still after dancing. You will excuse me, Jack? I think I ought to let
poor Robert off now, and take him home."
It was the first time Mildred and Jack had been alone together since the
memorable evening.
"May I have the next dance?" asked Van Tassel abruptly.
"If you like," answered the girl carelessly. "Haven't you had enough
dancing?"
"I haven't had any," he answered briefly; and Mildred told herself that
the demon of her vanity had received what it craved, so warm a sensation
of satisfaction stole around her heart.
"I thought I would make myself safe before one of your other friends
espied you here; but if you are tired"--
"I am never tired--physically," said the girl, with a slow smile.
"I was only going to say that I would be content to sit out the next
with you; although we have not danced together since that night in the
boathouse." Jack smiled. "Do you remember what you told me?"
"Oh yes. You made that child very happy. She owes you a dance."
"These surroundings are strange. Have you been thinking of it?"
"Yes. Only last year this ground was a tangle of goldenrod and
willow-trees. How many times we have gone bathing on that beach! It
was as good a playground for jolly youngsters as could be imagined; and
now"--
She paused.
"Now, the music has commenced," suggested Jack, rising. "In
consideration of the manner in which I have effaced myself so far, you
should allow our dance to begin promptly."
They entered the parlor by the door which leads from the east piazza.
She put her hand in his, and they glided away over the polished floor
among the pillars with their vine-like wreaths of electric lights.
Amid the scattering groups which, outside, watched the dancers through
the windows, was one spectator who was seeing a conventional dancing
party for the first time in her life. It had suddenly occurred to
Robert Page that it would be worth the exertion of going after Aunt Love
to see her view this pretty scene; and when Hilda and Gorham reached the
front entrance of the hotel in their search for Robert, they found him
ascending the steps with Miss Berry.
"The young ladies did ask me if I didn't want to come over, and I
thought I should feel out o' place," she said; "but Mr. Page, he just
made me, so here I am."
"Now, come to this window," said Robert, "and tell me what you think of
that."
The others clustered around Miss Lovina, as she murmured and exclaimed
in her surprise.
"I never approved o' dancin'," she said. "I never saw any before. Mr.
Gorham, do you remember that hall in the New York Buildin'? That must
be temptin' to young critters when it's lighted up, and the music's
a-playin'. Why," eagerly, "see Miss Mildred and Mr. Jack. My, don't
they go pretty! And there's Mrs. Van Tassel herself and some feller.
Why," turning suddenly upon Gorham, "why ain't you in there dancin' with
her?"
"I have danced with her twice," he answered. "I mustn't be a monopolist,
although it is a temptation. She is by far the best dancer here."
Upon this Hilda pressed her small satin shoe against her husband's foot,
and he obtusely moved it out of her way.
"Well, I declare," exclaimed Miss Berry, gazing in ever-warming
admiration, "if it ain't enough to make a body want to be young and
pretty. To think this is the real, wicked thing itself, and I ain't
shocked. What's the matter with me, Mr. Gorham?"
"Considering your prejudices and traditions, it is a little odd.
Perhaps it is because you cannot associate an idea of evil with anything
you see Mrs. Van Tassel engaging in."
Here Mrs. Page again endeavored to gain her lord's sympathy, with the
result that he ejaculated: "Where would you like to have me put my feet,
Hilda?"
"Why don't you go in there and dance, Mr. Gorham?" pursued Miss Berry.
"Am I so young and pretty that you want to see me? Well, if Hilda is
willing to favor me."
"Oh certainly, so long as Robert doesn't care to go home. _Au revoir_,
dears."
"Now, then," Aunt Love turned upon her companion argumentatively, "are
you perfectly willin' a man should put his arm around your wife's
waist?"
"On the contrary, I should object seriously."
"How about that, then?" Miss Berry gestured toward the hall.
"For a man to place his hand on a woman's waist to steady and support
her is not to put his arm around her. There are too many other things
for a couple to think of in guiding themselves successfully through a
crowd of dancers to allow of their usually being conscious of the
intimacy of their position. Don't be afraid to admire the dancing, Aunt
Love. It can be abused, like everything else; but it is an excellent
exercise, inculcating grace, strength, and good manners."
"Well, now, I'm goin' to tell some folks I know what you say. Ain't
your wife just as light as a fairy, and don't your brother look handsome
to-night? No, sir, there ain't any folks here as good-lookin' as ours."
When the waltz was finished, Gorham Page and Hilda approached Clover and
told her that Aunt Love was without. She excused herself from her
partner to go with them, and soon afterward Gorham walked home with her.
"Thank you so much for coming," he said, when he was bidding her
good-night.
"I am sure we have all to thank you," she answered. "Isn't it hard to
be reconciled to letting your brother and Hilda go? We have been such a
pleasant party."
"Yes," returned Page, looking down at her as she stood in her white
wrap, an unconsciously adoring expression in his eyes; "this summer is
an experience that one could wish would never end. Going away," he
smiled vaguely, "leaving you, having these weeks come to an end, is
almost as difficult to grasp in prospect as the thought of death."
Clover laughed softly. "We won't borrow trouble," she said.
"Good-night."
*CHAPTER XXIV.*
*DRESS PARADE.*
"Do you think Jack enjoyed himself?" asked Clover, when her sister
crossed the hall to her room that night for the usual last word before
retiring.
"I suppose he did. How anxious you are about Jack all the time! You
make an absolute fetish of him. It used to mislead me."
"Did it?" Clover smiled, and turned back to her dressing-table.
"Yes, indeed, and no wonder. It is a good thing, however, that I was
mistaken, else I'm sure there would have been coffee and pistols ordered
for two. I want your opinion, Clover, on a delicate question. Supposing
a man of some strength of character spends a whole evening at a dance
following about after a woman, smiling pensively at her face, or the
back of her head, or her shoulder, or whatever of her he can get to
smile at, and finding spots of vantage from which he can behold her
dance when he is not dancing with her himself. Supposing he flies about
to bring her glasses of water, and wraps, and fans, and performs all the
other offices which are usually the privilege of her partners, driving
said partners to the last pitch of exasperation. What, I ask you, is the
matter with that man?"
Clover turned her tender glance upon her sister, marveling that the
spirit of mischief could be so rampant in her eyes.
"Dear," she said reproachfully, "that man is very deeply in love."
"That is what I supposed myself," replied Mildred demurely; "but I
wanted to be sure I didn't exaggerate."
"Too seriously so for you to make merry over it," continued Clover,
shaking her head.
"Well, if you aren't a pair of you!" exclaimed Mildred, bursting into
laughter, which she endeavored to repress out of consideration of the
lateness of the hour. Then she seized her sister's astonished face
between her hands and kissed her repeatedly. "I suppose there isn't
another man in the world beside Jack Van Tassel, is there? How glad I
am, I am not attached to him; I should be wildly jealous."
"Oh--let me go, Mildred. I didn't know you meant--I didn't know that
any one noticed"-- Clover was as red as her namesake, and looking
everywhere except at her sister.
"Noticed! Why, my dear, he was a perfect spectacle. I fancy everybody
in the room noticed except himself. He doesn't know what is the matter
with him, either. He asked me once, when we were out on the piazza, if
there wasn't some malaria here. He isn't able to sleep of late, and his
appetite isn't right." Mildred went off into a peal of laughter.
"Hush. Do please hush, Milly," implored poor crimson Clover in an
agony. "Supposing Hilda should hear you and come in. She will. Oh,
_please_."
"He said he thought he should take--oh dear, I'm hurting myself--he
thought he should take quinine!" Mildred wiped her eyes; "and I said--I
was of the opinion--oh my! that something sweet would help him more;
extract of Clover, perhaps."
"Mildred, tell me instantly you didn't say that!"
"Well, not quite so much as that; but he tempted me dreadfully."
"Go to bed, Milly. Go to bed straight off. It is late."
"All right; but isn't it funny?" pleadingly.
"No. I do not think it funny at all."
"Oh, you must; that big, absent man, vainly mooning around among his
data"--
"Well, if you will only go away; perhaps--it's a little-- There, I have
turned the gas out. You will have to go."
"I am about to set up a Gorham to match your Jack," said Mildred
irrepressibly. "I am going to see that you treat the poor man right,
and help him diagnose his symptoms. I am going to give you reproachful
glances and him tender ones. I shall have to tell him they're tender,
though"-- But here Clover succeeded in pushing her over the threshold
and closing the door upon her.
The following day Mr. and Mrs. Page took their departure, the latter
more reluctant than ever to leave so many objects of interest.
"Ain't it lonely without 'em?" said Aunt Love that night to Clover,
after dinner. "I don't know but you'll want to ask Mr. Gorham over here
to help fill up the gap," she suggested rather timidly.
"No, I think we won't disturb his arrangements," replied Clover quietly.
"I suppose he can't stay here very much longer any way."
Miss Berry went to the back door to give Blitzen and Electra their
supper, and arbitrate between them while they ate it.
"She won't ask him over. H'm!" she soliloquized, arranging two dishes
of scraps, while the two pets barked and chirped expectantly. Then she
seated herself on a step to watch their proceedings.
"That looks like it," she continued in her own thoughts. "Well, if this
is what he's been waitin' for, thirty odd years, I don't feel to blame
him. Now you get back, Electry. Blitzen ain't a-goin' to stand
everything. Sometimes it does seem's if you had the most cheek of any
critter in feathers. Well, look at that now!" for Blitzen, exasperated
at a raid upon his plate, jumped at the chicken, who quick as thought
hopped on his back, and clung to her perch by means of claw and wing
while the terrier raced in a mad circle.
Aunt Love's hearty laugh rang out as she watched Blitzen's fruitless
efforts to disembarrass himself. At last he lay down and rolled over,
and Electra, squawking excitedly, ran back to her plate.
She was not pursued. The terrier ever afterward regarded her as
something uncanny, and so far as possible refrained from acknowledging
her existence.
An event of general interest during the Fair summer was the visit to the
Exposition of the West Point cadets. Cro' Nest itself is scarcely more
immovable from its position among the Highlands of the Hudson than these
pets of Uncle Sam; but it is a matter of history that they and their
paraphernalia were transferred to the Philadelphia Centennial, and now
again with much form and ceremony their camp was set up in the green
plain adjoining the Government Building on the shore of Lake Michigan.
They arrived one dazzling afternoon, which began serenely calm, but
toward evening gave the guests a northeast wind which sent white-capped
waves rushing landward, and shook the tents in the new company-streets.
Starting from the Terminal Station, the young soldiers marched through
the streets of the White City, preceded by their famous band, and as
they proceeded looked neither to the right nor the left at the widely
noised marvels surrounding them, but kept eyes front as though still
treading their own quiet, elm-lined avenues, while the waiting crowds
cheered and cheered again the elegant precision of their movements.
In an hour, gray-coated sentinels were again walking post in this new
Camp Sheridan, alertly conscious of their routine business, and
apparently without a thought of the surroundings beyond the camp.
Mildred Bryant felt considerable interest in the cadets, and assumed
much more. "Helen Eames says that no matter how good a time a girl may
have, she can never have as good a one as if she had spent a summer at
West Point," she announced to Van Tassel one day, on the occasion of
their being together. She felt that he made these occasions rare, and
at times the fact touched her. At others she said to herself, "He is
getting over it."
"Then why don't you go there?" asked Jack. "I don't know who has a
better right to the flowers of life."
"I did think of getting Clover to take me next summer, but now, wonder
of wonders, the mountain has come to Mahomet. Don't you want to go down
to parade to-night?"
"Yes; I don't know just how to make you comfortable, though. The mob is
something marvelous. I looked over their heads a minute last night, but
being in the sixth or seventh row, concluded the game wasn't worth the
candle."
"Ah, that is where the convenience comes in of having a military
friend," returned Mildred gayly. "We shall not need to mingle with the
_hoi polloi_. Won't you come too, Clover?" as her sister entered the
room.
"Where?"
"To see dress parade this evening."
"Yes, I am going. Mr. Page has already asked me."
"I don't believe you had better try to get along without me. Jack and I
are going to meet Mr. Eames on the steps of the Army Hospital at a
quarter before six. There is a great crowd."
"Thank you. Perhaps we will be there. Did you hear Aunt Love's comment
last night? She said that in the afternoon she ran into an impassable
throng near the Administration Plaza, and after vainly trying a long
time to get through, she finally found the attraction was only a lot of
schoolboys drilling. If those important young heroes could have heard
her scornful tone!"
When Clover had left the room, Jack spoke again. "Since you have an
appointment with Eames, I withdraw, Mildred. I don't see why you asked
me."
"He said I might bring my friends," she replied. "Do come, Jack."
Van Tassel looked straight into her eyes, and smiled with an expression
which seemed to the girl both brave and hopeless.
"Won't you?" she persisted.
"Of course," he answered.
In the afternoon, Clover walked to the Park, and entering back of Texas
walked down the northern avenue of State buildings. The usual crowd was
flocking in and out of Mount Vernon, but she crossed the street to New
Jersey's charming home, and entered. It was entertaining a large number
of sightseers, note-book in hand, who jotted down their inventories.
Clover wished she might look over the shoulder of one woman, with a
harassed but determined countenance, whom she met in the cosy west room
downstairs. She wondered how this anxious one would be able to transfer
to paper the charm of its quiet comfort, with the breezy foliage waving
near its half-closed green blinds and casting shadows on the dainty
white curtains.
It was all familiar ground to Clover, so she went upstairs and seated
herself in a corner of the deep, luxurious sofa which commanded a view,
down through the open gallery, of the front door.
People came, looked, commented, passed into the dainty blue chintz
bedroom, emerged smiling, and went away.
Many had appeared, climbing the stairway with various degrees of toil,
before the figure she awaited came into view. This one sprang up the
steps alertly, with a serious expression, which brightened to pleasure
at sight of her.
"Have I kept you waiting?" he asked eagerly. "I came around from the
Cliff Dwellers by the Intramural road, and we had a stoppage of several
minutes. I have been very anxious."
"I am sorry for that," answered Clover, as Page seated himself beside
her. "I thought you knew that I am always content in this house. I
should move down here and live, if they would let me. I have been
fancying that I was holding a reception as the visitors came and went.
I wonder if any pilgrim to the Fair has a soul so dead as not to covet
this house."
"I didn't know you liked it so much," said Gorham, as though the fact
were of serious importance. "Perhaps you would enjoy having tea here."
"Tea in the New Jersey Building? What a pleasure! But why do you
tantalize me?"
"I think we can. The lady manager from New Jersey is a near relative of
mine. Excuse me a minute and I will try the magic of her name."
Page went downstairs, and in five minutes returned.
"The house is mine, practically," he declared, smiling. "I herewith
present it to you."
"How delightful! And the tea?"
"Is near by." Gorham went to one of the locked doors on the east side
of the hall and knocked. Presently he ushered Clover into this
exclusive nook, and the door closed behind them.
It was an appetizing little supper that was shortly set before them on
the daintily clothed round table.
"You have gratified one of my pet ambitions," said Clover. "Now I shall
always feel a small proprietorship as well as a great affection for this
house. I am really breaking bread at its board."
"You spoil your friends by the pleasure you make it to contribute a
little to your happiness," returned Gorham, his eyes resting upon her
with the utmost satisfaction.
"This room is as charming as the rest," remarked Clover, looking about
at its ruddy decorations; "and the remoteness one feels from everything
confusing, or noisy, or soiling, can only be appreciated by those who do
not live in the midst of a large, well-kept park. I amused myself while
waiting for you by searching for the fewest words that will describe the
faces of Fair visitors. I decided upon 'tired' and 'pleased.' Not
'delighted;' they are too weary for that,--but just 'pleased.'"
Page looked away and considered the idea, as Clover had intended he
should.
"Do you know Mildred gives us the opportunity to find good places at
parade under Mr. Eames' wing?" she suggested after a minute.
"Oh, I am glad to hear that. I don't quite understand what makes the
cadets such a fad. No; one can't call it a fad either, for there is no
sudden interest in them, they are always lionized. Since they have been
here, I notice that people go hours before the time for parade for the
sake of securing good places, and then wait patiently; so I have been
wondering this afternoon how I could fix it for you to get a view of the
ceremonies. It will be very pleasant to have Mr. Eames' assistance."
"Then comes in that awful word again," laughed Clover. "We shall have
to hurry a little."
Page sighed unconsciously. "Is this very good tea?" he asked, as they
finally rose from the table. "I am not a connoisseur."
"Very nice indeed."
"I thought it must be. I never enjoyed any tea so much in my life."
"Then we are very much obliged to each other, aren't we?" said Clover
gayly, and consuming her watch, she reminded her companion again of the
hour of the appointment, and they hastened away.
They arrived at the hospital steps just as the others were leaving.
"Oh, you loiterers," was Mildred's greeting.
"Don't you see our breathless condition?" returned Clover. "How can you
have the heart to reproach us? How do you do, Mr. Eames? We are very
grateful to you. What a hopeless throng that looks like!"
"Let me take some of those camp chairs," said Gorham, suiting the action
to the word.
Mr. Eames led his party towards the officers' tents. They had to force
their way through serried ranks of gazers, who were held back with
difficulty by the blue-coated sentinels from the camp of "regulars" near
by. The sentinel saluted Eames as he passed, and the lieutenant stood
still and allowed his friends to file before him to the reserved places
before the officers' tents. There they found Helen Eames, who welcomed
them radiantly, fixing cordial eyes on Jack in a manner not lost upon
Mildred. The latter did not enjoy this effusiveness. She did not wish
to marry anybody, but at the same time she did not like to have any
other girl try to appropriate her especial friends.
However, her attention was soon momentarily distracted by the novel
sights before her, and the usual questions began to flow.
Eames was most willing to answer them. Before long the band marched out
upon the plain, and the evening's ceremonies had begun. The cadets, a
shining assembly, marched forth from the company-streets and fell into
line.
The band, playing The Thunderer, marched up and down the plain before
the motionless ranks, and one to whom the West Point forms were familiar
asked himself if it must not all be a dream. Here were the same camp,
the same cadets, the same band; but where were the mountains, the huge
old elms, the river?--instead, the Government Building, the Fisheries,
the Battle-Ship, and Lake Michigan.
To Mildred the very sight of the band was not thrilling from all it
implied, but she soon found herself absorbed in interest and admiration.
Once she turned around to Jack, who stood behind her.
"I think I must go to West Point, after all."
"Indeed, you must. It is perfectly lovely," exclaimed Miss Eames.
"There, you see, that is the adjutant now, advancing to the
officer-in-charge;" and she proceeded volubly to explain the tactics
which followed.
"I think I shall have to know some cadets," remarked Mildred, turning to
Eames.
"That will be very easy; and when you know one, you will know all. They
can talk only on one subject," was the rather stiff reply.
Mildred was perfectly aware that the young lieutenant admired her. She
saw that her proposition was displeasing to him; but what she did not
know was that he had not yet recovered from that profound fall which
results from exchanging the chevrons of a first-class man for the
shoulder-straps of a second lieutenant. That young officer must indeed
have a seared conscience who can lay his hand on his heart and declare
that he entertains only cordial sentiments for a cadet of the first
class when their ways chance to cross.
"You refused to attend the cadet ball with me at the New York Building
to-night," added Eames reproachfully.
"Why, of course; in my ignorance. Wasn't it stupid of me? Oh, what are
they running for? Isn't that pretty? Wouldn't you like to be a cadet
again, Mr. Eames?"
"Heaven forbid!" ejaculated that officer devoutly. "I am waked up by
reveille yet. Hope I shall get over it some time."
"Mildred is contracting cadet fever, Mr. Van Tassel," declared Helen,
looking up at Jack in a way which Miss Bryant noted resentfully, in
spite of her preoccupation.
"I never before noticed how objectionable Helen's ways with men are,"
she thought. "I know Jack wishes she wouldn't look at him like that."
"I suppose so, Miss Eames," replied Van Tassel. "I am trying to find out
what it is that is so fetching about those all-conquering youngsters."
But Jack need not have tried. No male civilian under forty was ever
known to discover.
"What is cadet fever?" asked Mildred, "and what is the microbe; a
bell-button? I haven't one yet."
The "double-timing" companies had retreated down the streets of camp,
and the cheering crowds of spectators quieted. Many of them moved
toward the lake shore; for in a short time it had been learned that the
cadets would next march to supper preceded by the drum corps; and any
ceremony which they performed, no matter how simple, drew a curious
throng.
"What is the matter? What are they going to do now?" asked Mildred.
"Going to the Clambake to supper," replied Eames.
"Then I am going to the Clambake to supper," announced Miss Bryant.
"I think you would not enjoy it," said Eames shortly.
"I know I shall," responded Mildred, with her glorious smile.
"I am so sorry I shall have to leave you," remarked Helen. "I have a
number of friends among the first class. They were yearlings when I was
at the post. I have promised to attend the festivities with one of them
to-night. Do come and see me, Mr. Van Tassel," holding out her hand.
"Remember you owe me a game of tennis. I assure you, you would not beat
all the time. Are you coming with me, Fred?"
"I believe not, unless you want me. If these people are determined to
go to the Clambake, I think I shall have to go too; but remember, you
are to save a two-step for me to-night."
"_Au revoir_, then;" and Miss Eames, her last glance for Jack, moved
away.
"We won't go with Mildred," said Clover, "for we have had tea recently,
and aren't hungry yet. You would never guess where, either. Good-by,
Mr. Eames. We are all greatly indebted to you."
"Indeed we are," said Gorham, shaking hands cordially with the
lieutenant. "That was a most interesting sight. I congratulate you on
being one fit to survive that tremendous training. This is the show
side, but I know something of the other."
"Where did you have tea; where?" demanded Mildred, smiling into Gorham's
serious face. He instantly smiled back. Those cold, abstracted eyes of
Page's had learned a new look recently, as though so much sunshine had
warmed his heart that there was an overflow.
"It would make you so discontented with the Clambake, dear," suggested
Clover with mischievous deprecation.
"Why, I _will_ know."
"The New Jersey house."
"You selfish creatures! Aren't they?" exclaimed Mildred, calling upon
Eames and Van Tassel to witness.
"Yes, we are," laughed Gorham, as he and Clover turned away. "We know
it."
Mildred, her companions on either side of her, began her walk northward.
Eames wished cordially that Jack would remember an engagement. Jack
wished sincerely that he knew what Mildred wanted him to do.
Unconsciously fulfilling the lieutenant's desire, he spoke:--
"I suppose I really ought to be at home attending to some correspondence
I have been putting off, instead of loitering at the Clambake."
Eames answered without giving Mildred time to speak. "I shall be most
happy to take Miss Bryant home after her curiosity is satisfied." Van
Tassel's jealous ears detected the eagerness in his polite tone.
"But supposing my curiosity is not gratified by the time you are obliged
to go and array yourself gorgeously for the evening? No, Jack, I am
sorry for you, but Mr. Eames is engaged elsewhere."
"It need not be for some hours yet," protested the lieutenant.
Mildred shook her head firmly. "I couldn't think of allowing you to
assume the care of me in addition to all your other responsibilities
this evening."
"Very well," said Jack. "When it comes to a matter of letter-writing,
my conscience never requires very much soothing."
When they reached the Clambake, two cadets were just issuing therefrom.
Their hands went up in an instant salute to Eames, who had for the
moment preceded his friends.
"I suppose there is a great deal of eating and running being done
to-night," remarked Jack.
"But where are they?" asked Mildred aggrievedly, as they entered the
busy, noisy eating-room.
"The cadets mess upstairs," returned Eames, with latent satisfaction.
"Did you suppose they fell in here with the general company? You don't
know much of military discipline, Miss Bryant."
"Never mind; if they are going to run up and down that staircase all the
time, as they are doing now, I shall see a great deal of them."
"There isn't much order to-night," remarked the lieutenant. "The cadets
own the Fair for the moment, and permits have been issued _ad libitum_."
But supper had scarcely been brought to the three friends when, with a
grand clatter on the bare staircase, the remainder of the corps came
hurrying down, walked out the door, and quickly forming in ranks marched
back to camp.
"Now, does that pay for mingling in this drove of people and getting
half-served?" asked Jack, with disdain.
"Fully," exclaimed Miss Bryant, with enthusiasm. "Without those absurd
straps around their faces, one can see what beautiful creatures they
are."
"Well, I'm glad," returned Van Tassel shortly.
"I am resigned to your interest in the cadets," said Eames, "if it
brings you to West Point, for I am likely to get a detail there next
year."
Jack took no part in the animated discussion that followed.
"Don't look bored, Jack," said Mildred at last. "Ask Mr. Eames
questions, as I do."
"There isn't any need. You have covered the ground. You are mistaken
about my being bored. This is my expression when I am absorbing
stimulating information."
"Then he should abstain from stimulants. Don't you think so, Mr. Eames?"
They arose from the table, and going out into the arc-lighted street,
walked slowly west.
When they reached Brazil, Mildred declared her desire to go into the
building.
"I suppose I ought to leave you," said Eames reluctantly, "but perhaps
if you remain in the grounds I may meet you again."
"What is going on?" asked Van Tassel.
"Several things. A procession of illuminated boats in honor of the
cadets, a concert by the West Point band outside the Michigan house,
illumination of all the State buildings and dancing in many of them, but
notably New York, all for the cadets. You will be likely to hear enough
of those young men and see enough of them if you remain, Van Tassel."
"Oh, we can't," smiled Mildred demurely, as she gave her hand to the
lieutenant. "We have important letters to write."
The "we," even in jest, was music to Jack. He turned to her as they
ascended Brazil's steps. "Well, are you ready to come back to civil
life?"
"Haven't I been civil all the time? And you," reproachfully, "were
going to leave me."
"Only out of regard to Eames."
"I think you might have more regard for me than for him."
"I have. I thought you knew it."
Mildred did not answer. They had reached the large salon which was the
second floor of Brazil's home, and from thence ascended the spiral iron
staircase leading to the roof. Mounting another short flight of steps,
they entered one of the four towers, and standing between its white
pillars looked down on the enchanting vision of early evening in the
White City,--the sum of imaginable loveliness.
The imposing facades of its palaces were now pure but not dazzling; the
green trees and flowering shrubs of Wooded Island were hung with
thousands of fairy lights; the long, bridge-spanned canals wound away
into distant mysterious vistas, where tower on tower still rose far as
the eye could discern; and, queen above all, stood the flamy curves of
the coronet of Administration.
The columns of the Art Palace were mirrored in the lagoon, and near and
far upon the water's breast lay little boats, gay with lights, in
readiness for the procession soon to take place; their chains of colored
globes faithfully reflected in the depths below.
Distant bells were chiming; from one of the boats the tinkling melody of
a mandolin floated up to the watchers in the lofty tower; all else was
still, as though the peerless scene were indeed something supernatural,
evoked for a moment's breathless rapture, and fated to disappear
forever.
Neither Mildred nor her companion spoke for a time.
"Once you gave me your hand when we lived such an experience as this
together," said Jack at last, withdrawing his gaze and looking at
Mildred in the twilight.
She hesitated, then extended her hand frankly. "So I will again," she
answered, with an effort at her old air of good-comradeship. "I am a
great believer in handshaking."
Van Tassel only looked at her without accepting the favor, and shook his
head slowly. "No," he said, as though to himself, "I cannot be
satisfied with it."
Mildred blushed as her hand dropped. "You said," she returned low and
swiftly, "that everything should be as it was before."
"Yes, I did, because I was inexperienced. I have never been in love
with any one else, and I didn't know how it was going to be. I have
become better acquainted with myself since that night and can speak with
more intelligence. I find myself hoping, even though I say over every
day that there cannot be the slightest hope for me, because you know me
well, and by this time the truth would be evident to you. If it were in
my favor you would tell me, wouldn't you?"
The girl gave him one fearful glance, and looked away.
"You would, of course?" he said, with sudden excitement, seizing the
hand he had refused. "Mildred, I love you! I love you! I do not say it
to you every hour, but I think it with every breath. You would not make
me wait one moment if"--
"Oh, how can you, Jack? Why must you love a girl so unworthy?" She
shrank closer to the railing. "I told you,--I tried to warn you,--I
told you that I do not love anybody but Mildred Bryant."
Before she ceased speaking, Van Tassel had released her and recovered
himself.
"And the Peristyle," he added steadily, "you are forgetting that."
She did not smile, and her lips quivered.
"So long as my only rivals are your sweet self and the Indians,
Helmsmen, _et. al._, who view the country from the top of the Peristyle,
I cannot despair. Perhaps I ought to, dear, but I can't."
Mildred wondered if her companion were really so pale as the shadows
made him appear.
"Hope springs eternal in the human breast, and I am going to hope until
you announce your engagement to me. Then, until I receive your wedding
cards, I shall look to see you find that engagement a mistake. And if
you are married," Jack paused; "I don't know. My mind turns blank when
it occurs to me that you might marry another man."
"I am not worth it. I am not worth it," repeated the girl.
"Have I made you unhappy? Shall I go away? Will my presence be a burden
to you now?"
"No." Mildred looked at him piteously. "I think I have a stone in here
instead of a heart," she said, pressing her side, "but stay with me
and--and keep the others away. I don't need to tell you how much I like
you, Jack. If only it were safe to say what you want me to when I only
like you, and value you, and respect you more than any other man"-- She
paused, unable to proceed.
He turned to her, tender consideration in his tone.
"That is a great deal, Mildred. I must try not to forfeit it."
*CHAPTER XXV.*
*IN THE PERISTYLE.*
The next morning, before seven o'clock, Miss Berry, while busy arranging
matters in the dining-room preparatory to breakfast, was summoned by a
maid to the back door with the word that a gentleman wished to see her.
To her great surprise, it was Gorham Page who stood waiting on the path.
"Well, well, Mr. Gorham, ain't the days long enough for you?" she asked,
smiling, as she came out of the door. "This is new manners for you. Go
'way, Blitzen. Look out, Mr. Gorham, his paws must be wet."
"I didn't want to disturb the house by ringing the bell," explained
Page, "and I knew you would be likely to be about by this time. A very
unfortunate thing has occurred;" he looked annoyed as he spoke. "I have
received a sudden call to St. Louis by a client I cannot neglect, and
the business requires that I should spend the whole day in town before I
go. Mrs. Van Tassel has promised to go down to the Fair with me this
morning on the Whaleback. I want you to explain to her how seriously I
regret breaking the engagement. I am really very much put out by the
necessity."
Miss Lovina smiled as she broke a twig from the maple under which they
were standing. "Ain't you comin' back at all?" she asked.
"Why, certainly I am coming back," replied the other severely.
"Oh," remarked Miss Berry innocently. "I thought perhaps you wanted me
to say good-by to 'em for you."
"No, indeed; nothing of that kind. I may be detained a week or ten
days, but I wanted Mrs. Van Tassel to understand that no trivial
circumstance would deter me from taking the boat trip with her and Miss
Bryant as we planned. I would--I would give a great deal not to be
obliged to leave."
"Mrs. Van Tassel won't lay it up against you," remarked Miss Berry.
"No, I dare say not," said Page abstractedly. "I mustn't wait," he
exclaimed, after a moment's reverie. "Tell her, Aunt Love, how sorry I
am; put it strong. I thought I would see you instead of leaving a note,
for writing is so formal; and oh, by the way, tell her if she forgives
me and understands the situation, how glad it would make me to receive a
word from her to that effect. This is my address," thrusting a card
into Miss Berry's hand.
"What's the use?" asked Miss Lovina, her shoulders shaking in a laugh.
"You know you're always forgettin' girls. If you should get a letter
signed Mrs. Van Tassel, you'd scratch your head and say 'Van Tassel?
Van Tassel? Where have I heard that name before?'"
"This is no time to joke," he returned hurriedly. "I trust you to
deliver my messages faithfully. Don't make light of the matter.
Good-by;" and with a hasty bow Page moved briskly away.
Miss Berry looked after his departing figure with some exasperation.
"I hope I do him an injustice," she murmured, "but it's my opinion he
hasn't found out yet that he's lovin' a woman instead o' worshipin' a
saint. I don't want to be profane, but I must say I'm reminded of Ann
Getchell's brother. He used to say that he liked a fool, but a darned
fool he never could stand."
Clover and Miss Berry sometimes began breakfast before the other and
sleepier members of the family appeared on the scene. This was one of
the mornings; and while Clover poured the coffee, Aunt Love embraced her
opportunity.
"You can't guess who's been here already," she began.
"No; tell me. Don't make me guess. The day is too new."
"Now you look just fresh and bright enough to guess anything." Miss
Berry gazed affectionately at her as she spoke.
"I saw Mr. Page going down the street," said Clover, as she set a
steaming cup on the waitress' tray. "Could it have been he?"
"Yes; but you'd never 'a' guessed him, would you? He come over to get
me to tell you that he's called away on important business, and regrets
very much breakin' his engagement with you this mornin' about goin' on
the Christopher Columbus."
Clover's transparent skin flushed, but she looked coolly into her
informant's eyes. "He does not see us again, then?"
"Law yes, in a few days he does"--
"Lena," said Clover to the maid, "please tell Katie to keep the other
things hot for a while. Miss Bryant and Mr. Van Tassel are both a
little late. I will ring when I want you."
The moment the door had closed behind the girl, Clover's face changed.
"Tell me all about it," she said.
"Ain't it a pity that gump can't see her this minute?" thought Aunt
Love. "Even if he's a darned one, I guess he'd get a glimmer o' sense."
"Why, he was the most distressed bein' you'd want to look at," she
returned, "just 'cause he couldn't stay and go with you on that boat.
You'd think he'd never seen a sign o' the Fair,--not that he said a word
about that, he was all taken up with the disappointment o' not goin'
with you." Aunt Love was determined to make the most of Gorham's behest
to "put it strong."
Clover's face had quieted, and she was occupied in stirring her coffee.
"I told him I guessed you wouldn't be overly hard on him, and he told me
to ask you, pervided you did forgive him, to write and tell him so to
this address."
Clover looked up quickly as she accepted the card.
"How long will he be gone?"
"A week or ten days, I think he said. Law, if I've forgotten anything
he told me, I shall need the prayers o' the con'regation. Strange,"
continued Miss Berry slyly, "that I haven't ever seen anything so severe
about you that Mr. Gorham should look all beside himself at breakin' a
light, triflin' promise to you through no fault or his."
"I will write in three or four days," said Clover musingly. "That will
divide the time." Then she looked up, and met Aunt Love's eyes fixed on
her with an expression that made her glance away.
"He's a none-such," said Miss Berry. "I guess you better let him off
easy, Mrs. Van Tassel."
"Oh yes," returned Clover with some confusion. "I will ring for the
breakfast now, Aunt Love. We will not wait any longer."
Gorham Page came home to his hotel in St. Louis a few days afterward,
tired and enervated by the excessive heat, and requiring to remember all
his philosophy not to anathematize the fate which had snatched him from
the feast spread upon the shores of Lake Michigan. A little later in
the season, during the Congress of Religions, the gentle Dharmapala was
riding upon the lagoon one evening, where his snowy silken robes seemed
more in place than the close-fitting black of his companions. Looking
about him in the waning light where all was melody, harmony, and beauty,
he said:--
"All the joys of heaven are in Chicago."
This sentiment of the lovable Singhalese Page would have echoed, had the
anachronism been possible. A sort of chronic yearning and
dissatisfaction possessed him, and the heat in St. Louis being a
tangible discomfort, he dwelt to himself upon the superior vitality in
the air of the lake region, and laid his discomfort at the door of the
weather. It was his custom, as soon as he entered the hotel, to inquire
for letters; and to-day he received one in a feminine handwriting.
The clerk noticed the expression of his face as the missive was handed
him.
"That fellow can't sing 'The letter I looked for never came,'" was his
comment.
Gorham's sensations, as in his room he opened the square envelope with
religious care, were of a chaotic nature, which required analysis. He
even went so far as to hold the folded sheet a moment and look at the
opposite wall with an effort at introspection; but the insistent desire
to possess himself of those written words engulfed all other
considerations.
The letter was gentle and friendly like the writer herself. It
compassionated him on the fact which Chicago papers reported, of a hot
wave in St. Louis; and described her sight of a great Maharajah, the
nabob then visiting the Fair, who, resplendent in cloth-of-gold robes
and pale green turban, passed in state with his suite about the grounds.
Jack had surveyed him, and with democratic audacity dubbed His Highness
"that chocolate duffer."