Part 14

"Isn't it a funny paradox to see an incandescent light over the door of each hut?" went on Page. "There was one big fellow squatted down in the sun, off by himself, playing on a rough sort of a harp, and singing monotonously something that sounded like 'Come away, come away, Chicago.' I tried to write down the pitches he sang, and that amused him immensely. His ivories would have made a perfect dentist's sign. I gave him a dime or so to repeat the performance, a sufficient number of times, and he was delighted, and kept saying 'Chicago beer.'"

"Yes," returned Miss Berry bitterly. "They have to come to a Christian land for that."

"Wait till you see the South Sea Islanders," said Mildred.

"We did. Fine, aren't they? There is an exhibition of drill and muscle worth seeing."

"And that _cafe-au-lait_ skin!" exclaimed Mildred. "I am entirely spoiled for white beauties."

"Let 'em wear somethin' more 'n a straw wreath and a piece o' calico then," remarked Miss Berry.

"But Aunt Love," suggested Page, "you must remember how clothing that brown skin is. I am sure you must admit it is an improving sight to see one of those heavy-eyed beauties sit cross-legged, and absently scratch one great toe while she sings."

"What are you all laughing about?" asked Hilda, coming out upon the piazza in the freshness of a light organdie gown.

"Your husband has been to the Midway," returned Miss Berry. "Don't be surprised at anything he may say or do; and I don't believe we'd better wait for Mr. and Mrs. Van Tassel any longer, for dinner was ready when I came out here."

"I don't understand Clover's staying so," remarked Mildred, leaving the hammock and trying not to speak severely.

"I go, I fly, to make myself presentable," said Page, slowly dragging himself up from his comfortable resting-place.

After dinner Mildred made an opportunity to address the housekeeper privately. "For pity's sake, Aunt Love, when you are going to speak of Jack and Clover as you did this evening, don't say Mr. and Mrs. Van Tassel."

"Why not?" asked Miss Lovina with exasperating unconsciousness.

"Why, it sounds so--so--absurdly married."

Miss Berry smiled. "What shall I say then?"

"Mrs. and Mr. Van Tassel, of course," replied Mildred, making an effort to speak with a suavity she did not feel.

"Well, if that ain't a new idea. Mrs. and Mr.! Do tell!" said Miss Berry good-naturedly. "Oh, I'll learn a deal of etiquette to take back to Pearfield. It's enough to do a body good to see Mr. Jack and your sister so much to each other, ain't it? Seems if they have lots o' pleasure together now; just as it should be."

"I don't know that they are together so very much," returned Mildred coolly.

"That's 'cause you're off so much o' the time. Why, they're just the best friends that ever was; and Mrs. Van Tassel, she's gone back before my eyes from a grave woman full or care to a merry girl just as free as a bird. It does me good, Miss Mildred. It does me so much good, I'm 'most afraid I shall grow fat on it."

Mildred's bright eyes looked thoughtful for a second, as though she were digesting the housekeeper's words. "There is Blitzen, barking," she exclaimed, and both hastened to see whether Electra's nervous system was receiving some fresh shock.

Gorham Page strayed over from the hotel, as was his habit after dinner, and found the family disposed in various comfortable chairs and hammocks about the piazza.

The autocratic Miss Bryant was feeling a trifle sore, although she did not dream of acknowledging to herself that it was because Clover and Jack still remained away, and in the present sensitive state of her self-love it was a new affront that Gorham did not at once seek her side, but after bowing to her, settled down beside Mrs. Page, who closed the book she was reading upon her finger as a marker.

"Yes indeed, the afternoon was delightful," she said, in answer to his question. "Mildred and I had a charming time among the pictures. You nearly committed fratricide. Do you see poor Robert fast asleep over there?"

"This will do him a world of good. Train down his flesh, and strengthen his muscle; though the poor old chap did say, before we decided to come home, that he had walked so long his feet splayed out like the camels' every time he set them down." Page laughed reminiscently.

"Camels? Did you go into Cairo Street?"

"No, to the Bedouin village; the Wild East show."

"Very well. You have just saved your lives. I understand that Cairo Street is one of the plums of the Plaisance, and if Robert had gone without me, I should have been highly offended."

"Yes, he is well trained. I wonder if my wife will find me as thoughtful. I am afraid not."

Hilda laughed at the sincere meekness of his tone. "No, I'm sure she won't, for the simple reason that you will never have one."

"I should be sorry to think that."

"Then why don't you do as nine out of every ten men in your place would do?"

"You mean fall in love? You know, Hilda, how often I've done that."

Mrs. Page laughed again at the gently remonstrant tone. "Your sort of falling in love isn't worth two straws," she declared scoffingly. "Don't take that into consideration at all. The next woman you meet who satisfies you intellectually, propose to her. If she accepts you, marry her. I don't believe you would make her very unhappy. You wouldn't if you were as kind a husband as you are a brother."

"Thank you. You might give me a written recommendation. See how handsome Miss Bryant's face looks against that golden pillow."

"Yes; it is a proof of your hard heart that you withstand her."

"I don't withstand her. You have no idea how much I enjoyed an afternoon I had with her at the Fair last week; but Jack was remarkably short with me that evening, and I fancied I had trespassed on his preserves."

"Not a bit of it. He must be a dog in the manger."

"Why, I'm very sure he is hard hit in that direction."

"Oh, where are a man's eyes, I wonder! I haven't been here very long, but long enough to discover the truth."

"I suppose you want me to ask you what truth?"

"No, I don't, my dear." Mrs. Page reopened her book.

"You are not hinting at--at--Mrs. Van Tassel?" Gorham spoke in a hushed tone.

"Just observe for yourself," said Hilda sententiously.

"You ought not to have such a thought."

Mrs. Page looked up, wondering at this severity. "Why, if you please? You surely haven't an idea that that young creature is going to sacrifice the rest of her life to a memory of duty done?"

"But Hilda, that is repugnant!" Page rose suddenly, and his sister's gaze followed him as he moved away. It was very unusual for him to show so much feeling. "Wouldn't it be a strange, strange thing if after waiting all these years Gorham should love at last and love hopelessly?" She banished the query with a sigh. Sober second thought assured her that her brother had not meant more than he said. The idea that Jack might wish to marry his father's widow was distasteful to him, and that was all.

Page approached Mildred, little realizing how indefensible she considered it that he had not done so some minutes previous. She was too glad of his presence, however, to punish him. It would never do for Jack to come home and suppose that she had not been holding court.

"What beautiful evenings you have in Chicago," he began. "May I take this chair?" drawing one near the hammock in which she was sitting against a nest of pillows, her foot touching the floor gently as she rocked.

"Yes, I never tire of seeing the moonlight on the water as it is shining to-night. When I was a little girl it was a great treat to me to be allowed to spend a summer evening on this piazza, and I enjoy it scarcely less now."

"You enjoy it very seldom, I observe."

"Yes, of course there are lots of engagements this summer, and a quiet evening at home like this seems very welcome occasionally. One likes too, sometimes, to renew acquaintance with the moon. After living among rosy, violet, pale green, and white search lights, and all sorts of spectacular electrical effects so much, one comes back to moonlight on the water as to an old friend."

The girl clasped her hands above her head upon the down pillow, and allowed Page to look at her, which he was not slow to do.

"I miss your sister and Jack, this evening. Where are they?"

"Columbus knows! Since the authorities have been Barnumizing the Fair, as they call it, one is led on to stay, and stay, and stay, to see this race or that dance or the other illumination. I left them after the noon concert."

"You were there, then. Of course you are fond of music."

"I enjoy it very much, although Clover says I don't. She and Jack are cranks about it. I am not."

"They have one strong predilection in common, then."

Mildred did not reply; and Page continued: "The effect of music upon a person who is in sympathy with it is an interesting study. Those involuntary chills that pass over one under the moving influence of good music are rather annoying to me. I do not wish to be moved uncontrollably by anything. I wish to decide just how deeply to feel on any subject. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yes, exactly." The decision of the girl's reply rather surprised her companion. She let him look deep into her luminous eyes set in the moonlight fairness of her face. "And further than agreeing with you in the desirability of the principle," she added, "I carry the theory into practice."

"Do you mean to say that you are always able to let your head decide what your heart shall feel?"

"Invariably."

"But that is no common characteristic in a woman. With women the heart speaks first usually."

"Not in the case of the well-balanced woman."

"Then perhaps you can tell me," said Page, much surprised and interested, "perhaps you will be good enough to tell me what your ideas are concerning love. There, too, do you think it possible for the head to speak first?"

Mildred let a repressed laugh burst its bounds. "Do you mean, do I think it possible to fall in love head first?"

"Forgive me if I ask too much; but it seems to me very helpful to compare notes with one whose aims and desires are similar to your own."

"Oh, I don't mind telling you, Mr. Page," said the girl, sobering. "My ideas on the subject are clearly formulated, and I know of no reason why I should not impart them to one who will be appreciative. I believe a woman can decide what characteristics would be sympathetic with hers, and when she is sufficiently acquainted with a man to discover if he is possessed of those qualities, she can give rein to her heart, and love him"--the speaker suddenly extended her white hands before her--"love him with all her soul!"

The sudden thrill in her movement and in her low contralto voice electrified her listener by its unexpectedness.

"But can one always love where the head dictates?" he asked; "that is the question."

"Undoubtedly; for when one finds the combination she seeks, she will discover that she has loved it already. I will tell you, Mr. Page, you tempt my confidence because you captivate my judgment. I will describe to you the man I await. He must be good to look upon, for I value beauty of form; but he must be cool and steady of brain, must love to think, to analyze, to look upon life not as a plaything but as something the laws of which must be studied and explored continually. Incidents which appear trifling to others, to him will suggest a thousand questions. He must in short be a student of human nature whose researches I may, by-and-by, as I grow wiser, assist. Oh, proud, happy destiny!" She paused as though overcome, and grasping the sides of the hammock looked with a quick turn of her head toward the moonlight.

Page regarded her in silence, then leaned toward her in his earnestness. "A man like that is not found every day, Miss Bryant; but I congratulate you on your high standard; for the being you describe has surely a great heart to throb for humanity as well as the head to study it, and your affections will not be starved, I am sure of that."

Mildred grasped the hammock closer and caught her lip between her teeth. Page's unconsciousness had turned the tables, and she had sufficient sense of humor, in spite of her vanity, to make it difficult not to smile as he walked unseeing around her net, and it fell, enveloping her own saucy head.

*CHAPTER XIX.*

*THE FERRIS WHEEL.*

It was half past nine when the wagonette bringing Clover and Jack stopped before the house. They were received with a chorus of questions, in which Mildred was too clever not to join. She was glad that Van Tassel must see Gorham seated near her, apart from the others, confidentially discoursing in the moonlight, even though Jack did not seem to observe it. He seated himself on the step near Mrs. Page, and leaned against a railing.

"We have had a fine time!" he exclaimed with what Mildred's practiced ear recognized as unmistakable sincerity.

"Oh, the German village by moonlight, Milly!" added Clover, taking a place near her sister. "You really ought to see it."

"We ought to have been there, Mr. Page," said Mildred regretfully.

"I doubt if I could have had a pleasanter evening anywhere," he returned; and if Miss Bryant had had power to decorate him she would have done so on the spot for that timely speech. She trusted Jack had heard it.

"We sat there at table, you know," went on the latter, "and saw the moon come up over those quaint old gables. Oh, it was fine. I declare, we didn't know where we were. Did we, Clover?"

"I thought you were quite certain by the alleged German you entertained me with."

"Alleged German! Well, if this isn't sad! There I wasted Heine's poems by the yard on you. Ungrateful girl! You will never know all the sweet things that were said to you to-night."

"I know you drank a lot of beer and smoked too many cigars."

"Of course, being in Rome I complimented the inhabitants by imitation."

"Mr. Jack," spoke Miss Berry reproachfully, "I remember well that you said once you only smoked on holidays and birthdays."

"Certainly, Aunt Love, that is my rule still. I never break it."

"Whose birthday is this?" demanded Miss Berry, somewhat taken back.

"How should I know? Somebody's, surely." Jack looked up innocently. "I never show favoritism."

"Oh!" groaned Gorham, rising. "I can't stay here. Discipline him, Aunt Love. I am going to my uncontaminated roof-tree."

"Let us all take Gorham home," suggested Jack, also rising. "I'm afraid to be left here with Aunt Love's righteous wrath. Come, all of you. Nobody is too tired to walk to that music."

For the band on the hotel piazza was playing the Washington Post March, which by midsummer was running neck and neck with "After the Ball."

"Come, Robert," said Hilda, shaking the somnolent form in the hammock.

"Hey? What? Don't disturb me. I can die here as well as anywhere. What! Walk home with Gorham? Do you take me for an idiot? Music and moonlight!" with deep scorn. "Oh, go to! Woman, stand aside, or I shall do you an injury. Don't tempt a desperate man."

"Dear Robert doesn't seem to care to come with us," laughed Mildred _sotto voce_ to Jack. She was determined that none other than he should walk by her side to the hotel, and of course she had her way.

An hour later she came into Clover's bedroom, brushing her long hair. Her white wrapper fell open at the neck, disclosing her handsome throat, and she looked particularly beautiful to her partial sister.

"Where else did you and Jack go to-night beside the German village?" she asked.

"Nowhere."

"You took supper there and stayed all the evening?"

"Yes. We really couldn't tear ourselves away. It was like being in some romantic old story."

Mildred smiled and hummed her favorite bit from Iolanthe.

"No indeed," answered Clover. "I am not his mother. He doesn't pretend that I am, and he doesn't wish me to be: so your little song doesn't fit the case at all."

She did not look at her sister, but went on with her effort to braid her rebellious hair. Mildred ceased humming.

"I wish my hair was curly," she said at last.

"We all have our gifts," replied Clover. Mildred thought her tone sounded unusually complacent. It was a novel experience to feel aught but compassion, or tenderness, or reverent admiration for Clover, but now she suddenly found herself regarding her for the first time as another girl like herself, and observing her attractions with new eyes.

"What a pretty foot you have, Clover," she said, looking at her sister's slippered feet.

"Not a bit better shaped than yours, my dear. Let us have a select little mutual admiration society."

"But mine are large," returned Mildred, sitting down and thrusting forth her slippers for inspection.

"So are you," suggested Clover.

"But isn't it strange that people never consider that, in speaking of a woman's foot? She must have small feet irrespective of her size, or else they had better never be seen or mentioned. In old novels a man sometimes keeps his beloved's slipper under a glass case. What a formidable piece of furniture my lover will have when he gets a glass case for mine."

"Foolish child! You are proportioned just right."

"Perhaps; but what I say is that the consensus of opinion decides that I ought not to be. Shoe men fall in with that idea. Dainty shoes are small shoes. I tell you fame and wealth awaits the shoe-dealer who becomes inspired with the idea that large women want pretty shoes too."

"You seem to have made Mr. Page have a delightful evening," remarked Clover.

"Yes; he didn't ask for one of my slippers, though. Fancy sterling cousin Page ordering a glass case!"

Clover smiled in answer to Mildred's laugh.

"What did you talk about?"

"Oh, weights and measures, as usual. I wasn't in the mood to be good, and I tried conscientiously to make a fool of our friend."

"Mildred!"

"No harm done; I didn't succeed. He made one of me instead. This has been what you might term an off day for your little sister."

"What do you mean? How did he make a fool of you?" Clover turned with so much curiosity in her gaze that Mildred rose quickly.

"I'll never tell you,--or hardly ever. Perhaps when we are both married."

Clover turned back to the glass, and Mildred was a little dismayed. The words had slipped out unthinkingly. Until this evening she had agreed in her sister's acceptance of the fact that her life could not be like that of other girls.

"Good-night," she said, standing back of Clover and meeting her eyes in the mirror.

"Good-night," returned the other.

Mildred kissed her cheek. "Do you like me?" she asked softly.

"Pretty well," Mrs. Van Tassel smiled. "Lots better than you deserve."

The younger sister went to her room satisfied. Arrogant and autocratic she might be to her slaves, but Clover's approval was the necessary sunshine in which her life blossomed.

Van Tassel had to put a guard upon his lips in the next days. He was trying to follow Clover's advice not to ask Mildred again to go to the Fair with him. It made the case harder, inasmuch as he could not help feeling that now she expected it. He noticed that she did not make outside engagements as much as before; but was oftener at home, either sitting about the piazzas in gowns which Jack thought the most becoming that ever girl wore, or else romping with Blitzen and paying exasperating attention to Electra, who was fast developing into the most self-assured and exacting chicken of the Columbian year.

The following sort of scene was sometimes endured in anguish by the lover who was disciplining his lady to order.

Jack was one morning reading the newspaper on the piazza, Mildred sitting in the hammock, and Clover and Hilda training the morning-glories.

"Why don't I go to the Fair?" Mildred said, addressing the lake, resplendent with miles of diamonds.

Jack's hand closed on his paper in his longing to accept the challenge; not being at all certain that he would not receive a negative if he did, but still yearning to try his luck.

"Is it a conundrum?" asked Clover. "I can give a guess, if you like."

"Thank you; you're always so kind, dear. Come, and go up in the Ferris Wheel with me, Clover. If you will, that will decide me."

"I couldn't, really. I'm glad I have been. One must go, of course; but twice, no, I couldn't." Clover passed near Jack, who threw an imploring glance at her behind his paper. "I can feel my hair whitening!" he murmured; but Mrs. Van Tassel frowned warningly upon him.

"What a pity you didn't say something about it before Robert went," said Hilda. "I think he means to go in the wheel to-day, as that is one of the things I can't bring my mind to do."

"But you will have a hundred chances, Milly dear. Some of our friends are always going," added Clover comfortingly.

"Oh, don't trouble yourself," remarked Mildred with nonchalance. "I assure you I can go when I like," and she rose and sauntered into the house, followed by Hilda.

Clover laughed softly into the pink lips of a morning glory which she held in her hand.

"This may be very good fun for you," said Van Tassel, his unread paper dropped, "but let me tell you it is making an old man of me."

"Do your own way then, Jack, and live to repent of it."

"But I don't want to have to repent."

"Then behave as though you had some backbone. Remember Petruchio."

"Oh, that will do to say! Petruchio was married."

"All right. I wash my hands of you."

"No, no, don't, Clover."

Clover took pity on the clouded face.

"I'll give you a little bit of comfort, Jack," she said, gazing down at him knowingly.

"Angel!"

"Oh, it is only a wee, wee bit; but Mildred is uncomfortable."

"I should think that was wee," returned Van Tassel, his face falling.

"I don't know. It is the first time any man ever affected her that much."

"A very poor recommendation, I should think," remarked Van Tassel.

"Oh, Jack," Clover laughed, "I can see you would have had an awful time without me."

"I am having an awful time with you, Clover."

"Then gang your ain gait any time"--

"And may God have mercy on my soul, I suppose you mean," added Jack ruefully.

It was his habit to have flowers sent to the house almost daily, and Clover often wore his roses; Mildred never. Van Tassel asked her once if she never wore flowers, and she answered indifferently that she often did.

"I have never happened to see you with any on," he said.

"Indeed?" she returned with one of her characteristic smiles. "Then that must be because you never sent me any. Now don't look like that. Jack. If you should send me flowers, now, do you know what I should do with them?"

"Pitch them out the window, probably."

"No; for that would disfigure the lawn, and Clover is very particular about the lawn. I should present them to Aunt Love."

So Jack only gave one impotent look into her starry eyes, and continued to send his lavish floral gifts impersonally to the house.

But one morning Mildred came down with some sprays of heliotrope fastened in her dress. Van Tassel was delighted; but acting with blind faith in Clover, he did not appear to notice the concession. He had won several words of commendation from his mentor for the manner in which of late he had been playing his role. He had even called upon Mildred's friend, Miss Eames, in response to the latter's invitation, and had gone with her one day to the Art Gallery, and after coming home praised her discriminating and intelligent taste. It seemed to him an eternity since he had asked Mildred to go anywhere with him.