CHAPTER XV.THE BLIND BABYThe same terrible suspicion which had entered Aunt Angie La Grange's mind when she overheard Flower's innocent words had occurred to Carolina, and as there seemed to be one of those sudden new-born bonds of sympathy between the beautiful old woman and the beautiful young girl, which sometimes spring into existence without warning, yet with good reason, as afterwards transpires, Carolina was not surprised to have Aunt Angie draw her aside after supper and say:"Carolina, child, what did you think when you heard what Flower said about little Arthur?""I thought just what you thought, Aunt Angie, at first, then--""Then what?""Nothing.""Now, Carol, you were going to say something! What was it? I am sure the thought that I am a comparative stranger to you stopped the words on your lips.""I am afraid that you wouldn't understand what I was going to say, Aunt Angie, dear, and I don't want to antagonize you. I like you too much.""Dear child, nothing that your silver tongue could utter could antagonize me after your sweet generosity to my daughter this afternoon. Oh, Carol, don't you think my mother-heart aches at not being able to dress my pretty girl in such fairy fabrics as you showed us? And then to think of your giving her that pink silk! Why, Peachie won't sleep a wink for a week, and I doubt if her mother does, either! Now she can go to the Valentine German in Savannah. You must go, too. I will arrange it. I--but my tongue is running away with me. Tell me what you were going to say.""Well," said Carolina, hesitatingly, "you have heard that I am a Christian Scientist, haven't you?""Yes, dear, I have, and I must say that I deeply regret it. Not that I know anything about it, but--""That's the way every one feels who doesn't know about it," cried Carolina, earnestly; "but that is nothing but prejudice which will wear away. Indeed, indeed it will, Aunt Angie."Mrs. La Grange shook her head."I am a dyed-in-the-wool Presbyterian, and I've fought, bled, and died for my religion in a family who believe that God created the Church of England first and then turned His attention to the creation of the earth, so you can't expect me to welcome a new fad, can you, my dear? But I beg your pardon, Carol. What were you going to say?""It was only this," said Carolina, gently. "That even if Flower's baby is blind to mortal sight, he is not blind in God's eyes. There he is perfect, for God, who is Incarnate Love, never created a blind or dumb baby."Tears rushed suddenly to the old woman's eyes."Are you thinking of poor little Teddy Fitzhugh?" she whispered."Yes, I was.""Oh, Carolina! If you could have seen his mother's anguish all these years! But you would have to be a mother yourself before you could even apprehend it.""Yes, I suppose I would.""And now," said the older woman, with that patient tightening of the lips with which so many Christian women prepare themselves to bear the heart-breaking calamities which they believe a tender Heavenly Father inflicts on those He loves, "I suppose I must steel my heart to see poor Flower writhe under a worse agony. Indeed, Carol, God's ways are hard to understand.""Yes, God is such a peculiar sort of parent," observed Carolina. "He seems to do things with impunity, which if an earthly father did, the neighbours would lynch him."Aunt Angie La Grange sat up with a spring of fright."Why, Carolina Lee! What sacrilege! You will certainly be punished by an avenging God for such blasphemy. You shock me, Carolina. You really do.""Forgive me, Aunt Angie. I only meant to imply that the God I believe in is a God of such love that He never sends anything but good to His children.""Then how do you get around that saying, 'Whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth?'""There is authority for translating that word 'chasteneth,' 'instructeth.' But even if you leave it 'chasteneth,' it doesn't mean a life-long disfigurement or crippling of innocent babies. Supposing Peachie should disobey you, or even disgrace you, would you deliberately infect her with smallpox to destroy her beauty or send her into a train wreck to lame her or paralyze for life?"Mrs. La Grange only looked into Carolina's eyes for reply, but her hands gripped the arms of her chair until her nails were white."Yet you are only her earthly--her human--her finite mother. How much greater capacity has the Infinite Heart for love!"Mrs. La Grange stirred restlessly."It is beautiful," she breathed, "but--disquieting. It upsets all my old beliefs.""'And good riddance to bad rubbish,' as we children used to say," said Carolina, smiling. Aunt Angie smiled in answer, but a trifle dubiously."Carolina," she said, "Moultrie told me--but of course you never said such a thing and I told him then that he must have misunderstood you--that Gladys Yancey was cured by Christian Science! Now, whatdidyou say?""I said just that. Shewascured by Christian Science.""I don't believe it!" cried Aunt Angie. "Excuse me, dear child, for saying so. I know that you are truthful and that you believe it, butIdon't. I'd have to see it done.""If you saw Teddy Fitzhugh taught to speak plainly, would you believe?""My dear, I'd leave the Presbyterian Church and join the Christian Scientists so quickly my church letter would be torn by the way I'd snatch it."Carolina laughed and squeezed Aunt Angie's hand, who added with a smile:"I suppose you think I am as good as caught already, don't you?""I hope you are. You can't imagine how much peace it brings.""Peace! It's something I never have had, child.""Nor I. But I have it now.""What does your religion compel you to give up? Peachie absolutely refuses to join the church because it won't allow dancing, and the child loves to dance better than anything in the world. They tell me, too, that she dances like a fairy." Aunt Angie pronounced it "fayry.""Why, that is one of the best things about Christian Science. It requires you to give up no innocent pleasure. It only cautions one against indulging to excess in anything. Dancing, card-playing, games,--why, some of the best card-players I know are Christian Scientists, but they don't lose their tempers when they lose a game and they don't cheat to win. In fact, one of the most graceful things I have ever seen done was when two ladies tied for the prize--a beautiful gold vase--at a bridge party Addie gave just before she closed her house, and the lady who won had played coolly, well, and won by merit. The other flung herself back in her chair with an exclamation, showing by her suffused face and clenched hands every sign of ill-temper. My sister-in-law brought the prize to the winner, who, with the prettiest grace imaginable, thanked her and then presented it, by Addie's permission, to the vexed lady who had lost. You should have seen the recipient's face! Surprise, humiliation, and cupidity struggled almost audibly for supremacy. She protested feebly, but ended by taking it. A number of others gathered around, attracted by the unusual scene, and suddenly the owner of the vase said to the giver of it: 'I would like to know what church you go to.' 'Well, as none of you know, you may guess,' she answered. They guessed Baptist, Methodist, Unitarian, Episcopal, and finally the recipient of the vase said: 'No, you are all wrong. I believe she is a Christian Scientist, because no one but a Christian Scientist would give up a gold vase!'""I like that," said Aunt Angie, promptly. "And I think the churches make a mistake in forbidding innocent pleasures. Oh, why don't they dwell on the good instead of squabbling over the bad?""You have described one of the chief differences between the Christian Science and the other churches," cried Carolina. "Why, Aunt Angie, you are a ready-made Scientist!""Am I? Well, we shall see. Now tell me when you can go to see Flower. Was Moultrie able to buy Araby for you?""No, Mr. Mazyck refused to sell her. But Moultrie has lent me Scintilla until he can find another good horse for me.""But you especially wanted Araby, didn't you?""Yes, because she is a direct descendant of the sire of my grandfather's favourite saddle-horse. And she is simply perfect, Aunt Angie.""I am afraid Barney Mazyck is hopeless. If he wants a thing, he wants it and is going to keep it.""I know; but I have not despaired of getting her yet. Perhaps I am just as bent upon getting her as Mr. Barnwell Mazyck is upon keeping her.""And in that case--""Well, I wouldn't put any money on Mr. Mazyck!" laughed Carolina.In the slight pause which ensued, Carolina could see that Mrs. La Grange was ill at ease. Suddenly she turned to the girl and said:"My dear, doubtless you think it strange that I do not know beyond a doubt the state of my own little grandson's sight, but--""I know," said Carolina, gently. "I have heard.""Who told you? Some stranger?""No, Moultrie told me.""Ah, then you have heard the truth! It is a terrible grief to us, Carolina. Think of the child! I do not know who my own grandson is descended from!""But you will know," said Carolina, earnestly. "And soon. I--we have a right to expect God's harmony in our lives."Mrs. La Grange looked at her curiously, but only said, with a sigh:"I am sure I hope you may be right."It was arranged that Carolina was to meet Mrs. La Grange at Flower's the next afternoon at three o'clock."Can't you go in the morning?" asked Mrs. La Grange."I have an appointment with the architect from Charleston and the builders at Guildford at ten. We wouldn't get through in time, I am afraid, for there will be so much to discuss.""Won't you be too tired?""I never get tired. There is rest in action for me."Mrs. La Grange shook her head, but not in disapproval."I hope I am going to like it. If I like all of it as well as I do the sample bits you have fed me with, I think, as you say, you may find that I have been a Scientist all my life without knowing it."Mrs. La Grange looked into the girl's pure, beautiful face scrutinizingly, as if to learn her secret of happiness, and, as she did so, she was surprised to see it suffused by a blush which rose in delicate waves to her hair. Looking about in surprise for a cause, Mrs. La Grange saw her son Moultrie approaching. Could Carolina have recognized his step without seeing him, and was that blush for Moultrie?The question could not be answered at once, nor did she see them together the next day, for Carolina was late in keeping her appointment, and, by the time she arrived, the awful truth was known. Mrs. La Grange had been so overcome that Moultrie was obliged to take her home.The moment Carolina rode up to the house, she knew that something had happened. The house, a mere cabin, was ominously quiet, and no one came to meet her.She dismounted hurriedly, fastened Scintilla to the fence, and ran up the steps. No one answered her knock. She pushed open the door and entered.At first she saw no one, but presently she heard heavy breathing, and, crouching on the floor, in the darkest corner of the room, she saw Flower, holding the still form of her baby in her arms. Her posture and the glare in her eyes were tigerish.With a low cry, Carolina sprang to her side."Oh, Flower, darling! What is the matter with your baby?""You may take him," said Flower, dully. "You care! You cared yesterday. I can tell. She only cares because Arthur is a La Grange. You will care just because he a helpless little blind baby. Oh! oh!""Not blind, Flower! Don't say it. Don't think it. Your baby sees.""No, Cousin Carol. You are good and kind, but Mrs. La Grange made me see for myself. We took a candle and held it so close to his eyes we nearly burned his little face--""You?" cried Carolina. "Were you in the room?""That's what Moultrie said, but you don't either of you know. When you have a child of your own, you will both understand that a mother can't keep away. She must know the worst, and she must be there when it happens.""Oh, poor Flower! Poor child!" cried Carolina, weeping unrestrainedly. She cuddled the baby's face in her neck, and Flower watched her apathetically. Flower's face was suffused from stormy weeping, but she had wept herself out."And you had to bear this all alone, poor lamb!""I wanted to be alone! I wanted her to go. They meant to be kind, but they don't love me, and they don't love my little baby. I would rather be alone. Who could I send for--the priest? When he predicted it?""What did he predict?" asked Carolina, quickly."He was very angry because we went to New York to be married. He lost fifty dollars by it. That is what he charges even poor people like me. And because I married a heretic, and because I was not married by a priest, he cursed me and my offspring. Then--" she broke off suddenly and cried: "Oh, why do I tell it all? Why do I trust even you?""Because you know that I can help you," said Carolina, gravely."No one can help me--not even God!""Say what you were going to," urged Carolina."Well, the child is bewitched. Every time there is a thunder-storm, or if I am even left alone with the baby, like to-day, when I let Aunt Tempy have her afternoon--there she is now!"With a shriek of terror she pointed to the window, and Carolina looked just in time to see a dark face disappear from view. She ran to the door, but nothing could be seen. Not a sound could be heard."It is the voodoo!" whispered Flower. "That face always comes. Once I saw it in the room, bending over the cradle when the baby was asleep. But I never can catch her. Aunt Tempy has seen her, so has Winfield. She has cast an evil spirit over my baby.""Her face looked kind--it even looked worried," thought Carolina to herself, but she said nothing to Flower. She only sat rocking the sleeping baby, wiping the tears which rolled down her cheeks at the sight of the mother's anguish."Flower," she said, suddenly, "did you ever see Gladys Yancey before Miss Sue took her North?""Heaps of times.""Did you ever hear how she was cured?""Why, Moultrie told Winfield that it was a new kind of religion that did it, and Winfield just hollered and laughed.""Well, if I could prove to you that your baby could be made to see, would you holler and laugh?""I reckon I wouldn't. I'd kiss your feet.""The only trouble," murmured Carolina, half to herself, "is that you are a Roman Catholic. We do not like to interfere with them.""I am not a Roman Catholic," said Flower. "The lady who brought me up, and whom I was taught to believe was my aunt, was a Catholic, but I never was baptized. I believe Father Hennessey knows who I am, and that, if he would, he could clear up the mystery of my birth and give me back my happiness. But he never will until I join his church. He told me so.""Is he an old man?" asked Carolina."Oh, a very old man. He must be over eighty,"A slight pause ensued. Then Carolina said: "Would you like to hear of this new religion?""If it will give my baby eyes, Cousin Carolina, how can you even stop to ask?""Oh, my dear, it is only because we are taught to go cautiously,--to be sure our help is wanted before we offer.""Well, offer it to me. I want your help with all my soul!"She rose from her corner and came and sat at Carolina's feet. Something of Carolina's sincerity, which always appealed to people, moved her to believe that Carolina could help her. Flower's mind, too, though it may sound like an anomaly, had been trained by her aunt's Catholicism to believe in signs and wonders, and her superstitions had been carefully educated. Therefore, when a more analytical mind might have hesitated to believe that material help for a supposed hopeless affliction could come from religion, instead of from a knife or a drug, which even the most skeptical may see and handle and thus believe, Flower, by her very childishness, held up a receptive mind for the planting of the seed of an immortal truth.The gravity of the situation caused Carolina a moment's wrestle with error. The burning eyes of the young mother fastened on Carolina's face with such agonizing belief,--the feeble flutterings of the sleeping baby in her arms terrified her for a brief second. Then she lifted her heart to the boundless source of supply for every human need, and in a moment she felt quieted and could begin."Flower," she said, "do you believe in God?""Of course I do.""Did you ever read your Bible?""No.""Have you one?""No.""Will you promise to read it if I will give you one?""I will do whatever you want me to."Carolina hesitated a moment."Will your husband object to your trying Christian Science with the baby?""I don't know--yes, I suppose he will. What shall we do?""What will he want to do when he first learns that the baby is blind?""I reckon he'll want to have Doctor Dodge see him.""There is no objection to that. Then what will he do?""There isn't anything we can do just now, Cousin Carol. We have had a dreadful time even to live since we were married. And look what a shanty we live in! Not fit for a negro. And Winfield a La Grange! Of course, if the crops are better next year we might be able to take him away to consult some big doctor, but this winter we can't do anything at all.""I don't know what to do," said Carolina. "You ought to get your husband's consent first.""Well, what do you want me to do? Does your treatment commence right away?""It is already begun.""Why, how? You haven't done anything that I could see. Do you pray?""Not to any virgin or saint, Flower.""No, I know that Protestants pray to God. Is that what you want me to do?""I want you first to have a talk with Winfield and Moultrie--""Moultrie will help me!" interrupted Flower. "I'll ask him to talk to Winfield.""Well, do that. Then if he says you may try it, I want you not to tell another soul, especially don't let Aunt Tempy or any of the negroes know a word about it. I want you to get up about twelve o'clock every night and light your candle, and put it where it shines directly in the baby's eyes. It can't hurt him. Then read the whole of the New Testament,--just as much every night as you can for one hour, believing that everything which was true of Jesus and His disciples then, can be and is true of His disciples on earth to-day, and that, if any one of us could ever be as pure and holy as He was, that we could do the one thing which is denied us yet,--that is, raise the dead! Will you?""Indeed, I will.""Then every night I will treat your baby's eyes by mind-healing, which I will explain to you a little later. In the meantime, you watch very closely to see the first indication which Arthur's eyes give of the light's making him stir, for that will show that his darkness is lifting and that he is beginning to see."Flower raised herself up and clung to Carolina's knees and buried her face in her dress, weeping bitterly."Oh, oh! Don't think I am unhappy. I am crying because I think you can do it. How long will it take?""No one can say. It may only take one treatment, or it may take years. 'According to your faith be it unto you.'"Just then, as Carolina rose to go, the baby wakened, and Flower reached for him and pressed him to her bosom in a passion of grief and hope."Look!" she whispered to Carolina, "you can tell from the very expression of his little eyes that he can't see. I remember now that once the sun was shining right into his eyes, and he kept them open, but I didn't notice it at the time.""Remember this, Flower. We think that he can't see. But in God's eyes he is perfect. With Him there is no blindness nor sickness nor sin nor sorrow. He will take away your grief. He will wipe away all tears from your eyes."CHAPTER XVI.A LETTER FROM CAROLINA"'THE BATH,' ENTERPRISE, S.C.,"January 27, 19--"MY DEAR MR. HOWARD:--If only I could drop in on you this evening and make my report in person, what couldn't I tell! You would laugh if you knew why we call our house The Bath. But first, have I ever told you that we have a house? Well, Guildford is so far from even Whitehall, which is the nearest place we visited, that I lost too much time in coming and going. I must have been eight hours in the saddle some days, and I didn't get on fast enough to suit my leaping ambition,--and--bathrooms are scarce in the country, so Cousin Lois and I decided to build a model cabin or quarters before we started the house, and live on the place. There was already a windmill, so I ordered a porcelain tub in Charleston, and built my house around it. Cousin Lois preëmpts it most of the time, but I get my full share, and it is a luxury. Did you ever try going without a bathroom? Try it. It will make you 't'ink ob yo' marcies,' as the negroes say."Oh, we are so happy! Every day some of the dear neighbours who knew Guildford in its prime ride or drive over to tell me little forgotten quirks of the blessed place, and to assure me that I am copying it faithfully. Cousin Lois calls it curiosity, but I think it is interest. But the primitive methods in vogue in the South--well, you simply would not believe me unless you saw them. For example, at the turpentine plant at Schoville, which I will tell you more of later, my engineer found them ladling out the crude turpentine by hand, when you know it ought to be piped, and half the time this cheap negro labour, which they hire to save machinery, is drunk or striking, which often shuts down the plant for days at a time,--ten days at Christmas always. Machinery may be expensive, but, at least, it doesn't get drunk, and by means of it a man may run his business, even in the South, regularly, and so build up a reputation for reliability, which, honestly, Mr. Howard, nobody down here seems to know the meaning of, as we understand it! Any excuse serves. Just make your excuse--that's all. It not only seems to relieve the conscience of the purveyor, but satisfies the consumer as well. In Georgia it is a State law not to move freight on Sunday. Imagine that, added to the railroad service as it stands! And in a certain town in Middle Georgia, the fire-engines are drawn by oxen. I enclose the kodak I took of it, for I know you won't believe me else. One thing the South needs more than anything else is some of our Northern Italian labour. Then the negroes will see what it really is to work."But I am running away with myself."I shall skip all I can, and only tell the essentials."After we left Whitehall, nothing would do but we must pay a round of visits among the Lees and La Granges, which we did, staying as short a time as possible with each, partly because I could not properly attend to my work, and partly because of the heart-breaking poverty of all my poor dear relatives. If you could only see their bravery, their pride, and their wholly absurd fury at the bare suggestion that ease and comfort might come to them from admitting Northern capital! I think if they knew that my money comes through you, they would force me to starve with them rather than be indebted to a ---- Yankee. The ladies don't use that word with their lips, but their eyes say it. As it is, they think I am still selling my jewels. And I don't contradict them, simply because there is no use in giving them pain. Their hatred of the North is something which cannot be eradicated in a day. It is a factor in business which blocks the path of every well-wisher of the South, and is an entity to be reckoned with just as palpably as credit. The man who ignores it makes a mistake which sooner or later will bring him up with a jerk. I dwell upon this, because, if we form the syndicate which you propose, it must be managed craftily, and I know you will not disregard my warning."As an example of it, let me tell what has befallen the plant for making wood turpentine at Schoville, Georgia. It is a fine, modern, up-to-date plant of the steam process, backed and controlled by Judd Brothers & Morgan, of Brooklyn. Their representative approached my counsel, offering to sell. The Brooklyn firm own fifty-one per cent. of the stock, and the rest is taken by citizens of Schoville. I sent my man, Donohue, down to investigate the process, intending, if I didn't buy, to organize a similar company and operate under their patents, as I find theirs, if not the best, is at least a satisfactory process, and turns out a pure water-white turpentine with a specific gravity of 31.70. And Donohue asserts that by the use of steam he can eliminate the objectionable odour. He has been in the employ of both the Schoville and the Lightning companies and is a valuable man, though not strictly honest. Donohue was satisfied that there was something wrong at Schoville, and advised me to hold off. He reported the plant out of repair, although the books showed money in plenty supplied by the owners. Donohue then visited the plant at Lightning, Georgia, and found everything all right. It has since transpired that the foreman of the plant at Schoville, a cracker named Leakin, had deliberately shipped crude turpentine, which of course was of rank odour and off colour, to the factors at Savannah, who shipped it to Germany and South America without giving it a very careful examination. As is usual with these men, they were too slack to make the thorough examination before making shipment which the law requires, and paid over an advance of thirty-five cents a gallon to Leakin like innocent little lambs. Of course, the inevitable occurred. Buenos Ayres and Berlin not only refused to pay, but returned the consignment, and the Savannah factors now refuse to touch wood turpentine at any price."It seems that, when the Northern owners sent their representative down to investigate, Leakin frankly told him that he did not intend to make money for any ---- Yankees. They thereupon swore out a warrant for his arrest, but he wrecked the plant at night and was hurried out of town by his relatives."Now, so far from discouraging me, this serves my purpose well. For with sixty per cent. profit on the manufacture of wood turpentine on paper (as per my previous reports), which cuts to between forty and fifty in actual operation, it is one of the future industries of the South. Of course the little plant I propose to build at Guildford or near by will only be a mouthful. I figure that between ten and twelve millions of dollars would corner the turpentine market, and then put the price of orchard turpentine so high that it would practically be off the market. Then we could force the consumers to take wood turpentine in its place, and in this way show them that it will do the same work and bring the same results as the regular orchard turpentine. They are afraid of it now, so they must be reduced by compulsion to giving it a fair trial. I bought ten barrels of wood turpentine made by the company at Lightning, and sent a small sample to every paint and varnish manufacturer in the United States, with a letter giving them the chemical analysis and asking the recipient to give it a fair trial. About one-third replied that it seemed satisfactory, and sent me orders for from five to ten barrels for a trial, but they want it at about ten cents per gallon less than the orchard. It seems that no one will pay within ten cents of the regular market price. I turned these orders over to the Lightning company on a commission, and am making quite a neat little sum out of it, though I never thought of that end of the proposition when I sent out the samples. I tried the experiment to see what sort of a market I could look for. There is no reason why this wood turpentine should not be shipped and sold as regular turpentine, and one good strong corner on the market will bring this about."To continue my investigations, I want you to organize a small company, giving me control. I shall erect a twenty-cord plant between Enterprise and Guildford, within wagon distance of the wood-supply of the estate. Recollect that this process uses only the fallen trees and stumps of the long-leafed pine, which are reduced to a sawdust, and this is then put into the retorts. Steam is then injected, which tries out the turpentine, which is then run into the refining still."I can arouse no interest whatever among my relatives. They simply think I am crazy. I even suggested to my uncle, Judge Fanshaw Lee, of Charleston, the simple proposition of joining me in the purchase of a stump-puller to clear his land for rice and cotton, but he wouldn't do it, and continues to plant in fields dotted with old stumps. But he will rent it from me ifIbuy one! So please order immediately the most improved sort, and consign it to me at Enterprise, S.C."Even though I am a Southerner by blood, and anxious to improve the country in general, and my relatives in particular, I work under inconceivable difficulties. I sent my lawyer to one of the biggest factors in Savannah, by the name of James Oldfield, to suggest a combine to corner turpentine, offering to raise nine million dollars, if he and his friends would raise one million. Legare reported that 'Oldfield's head hit the ceiling' at the mere suggestion. But, upon being drawn out, Oldfield admitted that twenty years ago he had entertained a similar idea, although, of course, at that time not for the purpose of introducing wood turpentine. But his ideas were on too narrow-gauge a plan to admit the suggestion now. So we shall simply be obliged to do it without him."It seems to me that, with the South in the mental attitude it now holds, it will need some radical means, such as a turpentine corner, to force Southern landowners to reinvest money in their own property. Many a man is land poor with thousands of dollars' worth of stumps and fallen trees on his land which are suitable for wood turpentine. In order to supply the demand, the orchard people are obliged each year to find two million acres of virgin forest for their operations. After bleeding these for three years, the lumber men then enter and cut the timber, thus leaving millions of fallen trees and stumps, all of which are suitable for our process. Now, it would take years to educate these landowners in the process of extracting turpentine from this stumpage, while a corner in orchard turpentine would, in three months, turn the attention of half the chemists and inventors in the United States toward bettering present processes and discovering new ones. Every newspaper in the land would give this New Southern Industry millions of dollars' worth of free advertising, and inside of ten years the whole South would blossom as a rose."I have hinted at this before, but have not explained it because the time was not ripe. Now, after six months of untiring investigation by trustworthy agents, and after bitter personal experience, I find that no help whatsoever can be expected from the South. Rather they will fight us at every step, like children compelled to take medicine. Did you ever see a health officer try to vaccinate a negro settlement on the outbreak of a smallpox epidemic?"You understand me, do you not? Tell me if I make my point sufficiently clear. I propose to corner turpentine, not for the purpose of raising the price, but to take the orchard stuff completely off the market until we have forced the public to give wood turpentine a trial. It has been demonstrated in every department that the patented product will do the work of the orchard, not only just as well, but in some cases, as that of paint, it actually holds the colour better."If you are still interested, let me know and I will explain my developed plan. Meanwhile I welcome suggestions from you, or any of your interested parties."With devoted love to all in your dear house, I am,Always affectionately yours,"CAROLINA LEE."CHAPTER XVII.IN THE BARNWELLS' CARRYALLAunt Angie La Grange descended from the Barnwells' carryall in front of the station platform at Enterprise, and tapped on the window of the telegraph-agent's box."How late is the train from Savannah, Barney, son?"Mr. Mazyck sauntered out."Only about three hours to-day, Aunt Angie. Expecting the folks?""Only Peachie. Mrs. Winchester and Carolina went on down to Jacksonville on business. Did you ever see such a girl?""I never did. She scares me 'most to death. I'd like to marry her, Aunt Angie, but what could I--what could any man do with such a wife?""She'd make any man rich. Moultrie says she goes so far ahead of him in her ideas of business, he can't even keep her in sight.""Oh, any man has got to make up his mind to take her dust!" laughed Barnwell."Are you in earnest about marrying her, Barney?""Of cou'se I am! Aren't all the boys? Isn't Moultrie?"A shade darkened Aunt Angie's face."You know, son, that Moultrie will never marry unless--""Exactly! Unless! Well, there's a heap of unlesses which may he'p him to change his mind. And maybe Miss Carolina is one of them.""I'd be proud to have him win her, but, as you say, all the boys are in love with her, here and in Charleston, and now she has been to Savannah, I suppose they will follow suit, and--""Poor Jacksonville!" sighed Barnwell.Mrs. La Grange laughed."We haven't had such a belle in South Carolina in many years," she said. "Before the war--" and she sighed.Barney laughed unfeelingly, and Mrs. La Grange continued:"How about Araby, son? Are you going to sell her to Carolina?""Indeed I am not, Aunt Angie. I'd give her to Miss Carolina before I'd sell her to anybody else; but, to tell you the truth, I'd about die if I had to part with that mare! She's human. Sound as a dollar and not a trick of any kind. That nigger horse-trainer is a magician with animals. I'm blest if I don't believe he'll teach Araby to talk before he quits. And she whinnies if she even passes him in a crowd.""Carolina wants her worse than anything in the world.""Well, she can just go awn wantin'," said the usually gallant Mr. Mazyck, ungallantly. "If I'd give Araby to her, I'd lose both my mare and my sweetheart.""Somehow or other I can't help thinking that Carolina will get that horse in spite of you. Barney, do go and see what time it is! This is the third time I've been down here to wait for this mean train!""Yonder she comes now. Only three hours and fifteen minutes late. That's not so bad, Aunt Angie. When she tries, she can tardy herself up a heap mo' than that!"Mrs. La Grange anxiously scanned the shabby coaches for a sight of her daughter's blooming face. Peachie jumped from the car steps and ran to her mother's arms. They kissed each other like two lovers who had been parted for years."Have you had a pleasant week, darling baby?" asked her mother.Peachie's pink cheeks paled and her face clouded over."No, I haven't," she whispered, hurriedly, "but I don't want anybody but you to know. Don't let Barney ask me. Let's hurry."Mrs. La Grange led the way to the borrowed carriage with a sinking heart. Aside from two visits to her aunt in Charleston, this was the only time Peachie had ever been away from home. And now to have this invitation to visit Savannah, given the year before and anticipated all this time, turn into the failure which Peachie's face indicated, was almost as great a disappointment to Mrs. La Grange as to the girl herself.In the carriage, where Old Moses could not hear them, the mother anxiously awaited the story."Begin at the beginning and don't skip a word. We've two good hours before us with nobody to interrupt.""Well, you know how happy Carolina was at the prospect of taking me to a fine hotel like the De Soto, and how lovely my clothes were, and how pleased Cousin Lois was at the prospect of seeing her old friends there? Well, people called, of course,--none of the girls, though,--and Mrs. General Giddings, who is the leader of Savannah society, at once asked Cousin Lois to be a chaperon at the Valentine Ball. John Hobson invited me, and Jim Little asked Carolina, and, do you know, it was the first time in all her life that Carolina had ever been to a ball with a man! She says she always went with a chaperon and met her partners at the dance. And she wanted to do that in Savannah, but Mrs. Giddings assured her that it was all right, and so she did."Oh, mother, I wish you could have seen us that night! You know how I looked, but Cousin Lois wore a black satin brocade, studded with real turquoises and blue ostrich feathers woven into the goods. And, with all her size, she looked perfectly lovely. Carolina wore a white Paris muslin over white silk, with every flounce trimmed with real lace. Her hair looked as if she only had one pin in it, it was so loose and fluffy and--well, artistic is the only word to describe her. She looked like a fairy princess. It began in the dressing-room.""What began?"Well--Savannah began!" cried Peachie. "I never heard of such things happening to our girls when they go to Atlanta and Columbus and Augusta and Macon, while as for Charleston!--well, I needn't defend Charleston manners toyou, mother!"Not a soul spoke to us, although everybody knew we were strangers and everybody knew who we were, for of course it was in the papers,--such distinguished arrivals as Mrs. Rhett Winchester and Carolina Lee! But not a girl came near. They hollered and joked among themselves, and somebody would whisper to two or three, then the whole roomful would scream like wild Indians, and once one of the boys came to the door and called to them to hurry up, and one girl screamed back, 'Shut yo' big mouth!' and the rest fairly yelled with approval."Then one girl was just going out with her bodice all gaping open, and Carolina stepped up to her as sweetly as if she had been received with perfect politeness and asked if she mightn't fasten it. The hooks were half off, so Carolina took a paper of pins and fairly pinned that girl into her clothes,--her waist and skirt didn't meet. She accepted all this help, thanked her, and went out, leaving us all alone. Then our boys came and took us down to the ballroom, and, if you will believe it, mother, not a girl came near us or asked to be introduced or introduced a single boy! Not even the girl that Carolina had helped. I looked at Carolina to see if she noticed it, but her face was as calm as it always is. Her colour, however, was a little less than usual at first."We noticed that things sort of dragged at first, and soon we found out what it was. An English yacht was in the river, and its owner, Sir Hubert Wemyss, a young man only about thirty, was expected, and all the girls were trying to save dances for him, and all the boys were trying to get the choice ones."The first dance I didn't watch Carolina, because I had heard that Jim Little was a good dancer, but, after it was over, I saw him take her to the door and she went up to the dressing-room. I made John stop near him, and I asked him what was the matter. 'Oh, I stuck my foot through the lace of her dress, and she's gone to be sewed up. Say, Miss Peachie, that girl can't dance! I never saw a Yankee that could!'"Well, mother, I could scarcely believe my ears! The conceit of that raw Southern boy, who never had been outside of his own little town in the whole of his life, except to go duck-shooting in the swamps, to presume to criticize Carolina's dancing!""What did you say to him, sweetheart?"Aunt Angie's cheeks were as red as any girl's. She sat bolt upright in the borrowed carriage, in her cheap print dress and cotton gloves, looking like an empress. The proudest blood in South Carolina flowed in her veins and she had the spirit of her State."I said, 'Are you sure, Mr. Little, that the fault was all hers?' And he laughed and said, 'Well, the Savannah girls never find fault with my dancing, Miss Peachie!' 'Oh,' I said, 'if such criterions have stamped their approval on you, Mr. Little, of course there is no more to be said!' He didn't see the sarcasm at all,--he seems a trifle dense. So we waited for Carolina, and when she came back, I saw that her dress was ruined, but she had managed to hide it pretty well, and her manner was just as sweet to that man as if he had been fanning her, and we all four went back to Cousin Lois."The next dance we changed partners, Jim Little taking me and John Hobson taking Carolina. Now John is said to be the best dancer in Savannah, so I kept an eye on them, but they didn't do very well. Carolina's colour began to rise and her eyes began to grow that purplish black--you remember? Oh, she looked so beautiful! But she wasn't enjoying herself, and she stopped near me to rest. Then I heard John say, 'You dance more like a Southern girl than any Yankee I ever knew!' Think, mother! That was twice she had been called a Yankee before we had been there an hour. A Lee of South Carolina! Her cheeks just grew a little warmer and she lifted her chin a little higher, but didn't correct him--just said, 'I suppose you intend that for a compliment, Mr. Hobson?' 'I should say I did!' he said. 'I never saw a Yankee girl who could dance in all my born days!' 'How do you account for that?' asked Carolina, in just as sweet a tone, mother, as she always uses. Me? I was just boiling! I was ready to cry!"Her mother pressed her hand. Aunt Angle's own lips were trembling with indignation."'Oh,' the fool said, 'I reckon they don't get as many chances to dance as our girls do!' Well, that saved me. I began to laugh and I laughed until I nearly went into hysterics. I had to excuse myself and ask Jim to get me some water!""Did Carolina laugh, too?" asked Mrs. La Grange."Well, she smiled, and I knew from that, that she was only holding herself in."The next was a Lancers. Carolina danced with Rube Bryan. He is very tall and from the first he tried to get fresh with Carolina. I was in the same set dancing with John again. And I want to say right here that I never saw such unladylike and ungentlemanly dancing in all my life. Why, in Charleston the chaperons would have requested the whole dance to be stopped. They wouldn't have permitted such hootings and yellings, such jumps and shouts. Girls yelled at each other across the whole hall--just like negroes. 'Go it, Virgie!' 'Shake a foot, Nell!' In the ladies' chain the boys jerked the girls so that one girl in our set was thrown down and her wrist sprained.""I was getting frightened and I could see that Carolina was on the verge of leaving the set. Then she seemed to brace herself, for Mrs. Winchester had left the line of chaperons and was making her way down to where we were dancing. And mother, there was rage in her whole bearing. She just looked as if Carolina were being insulted by dancing with such rowdies. But Carolina gave her a look and she did not interfere. She stood there, however.""Did anything happen, Peachie?" asked Mrs. La Grange, unable to wait for the sequel."Yes, mother, it did. I believe those girls had dared him to, because he waited until the very last, then he lifted Carolina off her feet clear up into the air, and landed her in front of Mrs. Winchester with a deep bow. Everybody laughed and screamed for a minute, then something in the attitude of both Mrs. Winchester and Carolina made them hush. Cousin Lois's voice was low, but you could hear it all over the room."'Young man,' she said, 'your name is unknown to me, but let me say to you that you are not a gentleman!'"What happened then?" cried Mrs. La Grange."Mrs. Giddings, of course. She always says the cutting thing. 'You are perfectly right, Lois,' she said, 'the man is a nobody. We expect such manners from nobodies. Not that the somebodies are any better, if this dance is a sample. This is my first appearance. Rest assured that it will be my last. We Giddings don't chaperon barn dances!'"That, from Mrs. Giddings, seemed to sober them. They all moved away leaving Rube Bryan bowing and scraping and trying to square himself. Cousin Lois simply waved him aside as if he were a piccaninny. She asked Carolina if she wanted to go home. Carolina hesitated a minute, then she lifted that chin of hers and said, 'No; a Lee cannot be driven from a ballroom by rudeness. Just let me go and put on my truth!""Bless the child!" cried Mrs. La Grange, who was as excited as a spectator at his first horse-race. "Bless her! There is pride! There is what the French call 'race'! And to see the dearputting on the armour of her religion even in a ballroom!""Mother, Carolina's religion helps her in everything. Why, she just stepped out of sight behind a row of palms. She went to a window and reached up one arm and leaned her head against it. With the other hand she drew back the curtain and looked up at the stars. I put my arm around her and she said, in a low, distinct voice. 'The eternal God is thy refuge and underneath are the everlasting arms.' 'And mother, it made the tears come to my eyes. To think of my beautiful Carolina, with nothing but love in her heart for the whole South, to come home to us and be treated so rudely that she had to appeal to God to help her to get through something which ought to have been only a pleasure to her!""I know, my dear baby," said her mother, whose own eyes were suspiciously bright, "but I rather imagine that to a girl who has seen the best society that Europe and America have to offer, a dance with a lot of Savannah boys and girls could not be considered in the light of much of a treat.""I know it, mother. Yet Cousin Carol's manners are so perfect that she never lets you suspect that. She enters into everything with such love.""That is her religion," said Mrs. La Grange."Oh, that reminds me. She went on talking aloud as we stood there. She said, 'I must remember that the vesture of truth is my raiment. I must stand sentinel at the door of my thought and not allow error to enter it. And the way to keep error out, is to pour love in. Love! Love! Love! That is the way to meet them. Father--mother--God! Help me to love mine enemies!' Oh, and mother dearest, by that time I was weeping, but Carol's eyes were quite dry. 'Don't cry, little girl,' she said, 'I don't any more, for I have got beyond the belief that religion is an emotion. It is too real--too lasting. Emotions die out.' And a little light seemed to dawn for me--just as I have seen clouds break on a dark night and a single star shine through.""Then did you go back?" asked her mother, after a pressure of the hand to show that she understood. There was a singular bond between these two."Yes, she turned and pressed my hand just as you did then, with such understanding, and her face was fairly shining, but with such a different radiance. 'Come, Peachie, darling! faithful little comrade. You would not have been one of the disciples who slept and left their Master to pray alone, would you? Well, I have conquered my little moment of error. Now let's go back.' 'And show them how South Carolina faces her foes,' I said. 'Wouldn't it be better to go back and show them how South Carolina can forgive?' she asked.""Bless her heart!" murmured Mrs. La Grange. "I know how a young girl feels to be mistreated at a ball.""Yes, but wait. The grandest, glorious-est thing happened. Just as we came from behind the palms who should be bowing to the chaperons but the handsomest man I ever saw in my life. Tall, dark, distinguished-looking, with one white lock of hair and all the rest black as a coal. He has a slight limp from a wound at Magersfontein, but it only distinguished him the more and doesn't interfere with his dancing a bit. Well, when he saw Carolina, his face lighted up and he said, 'Oh, Miss Lee, how awfully jolly to see you again! To tell the truth, I had half a mind not to come, after all I had promised, and I wanted to get out of it the worst way until I heard that you were to be here. Then I couldn't get here fast enough.' Well, mother, even if every girl there hadn't suddenly found that side of the room strangely attractive, his voice has a carrying tone, and--well, I wish you could have seen those girls. They looked as though they had been slapped in the face.""As they deserved!" said Mrs. La Grange, grimly."Then the band struck up a two-step and he turned to Mrs. Winchester and asked her if she would save her first square dance for him, but she said she wasn't dancing. So then he asked Carolina. She gave me a little look which meant that I could have him next, and then! Well, I've seen dancing all my life, but I never saw anybody dance as those two did. It was like the flight of swallows. So graceful, so dignified, so distinguished, and yet so spirited. Carolina dances like a breeze.""I can imagine just how she dances," cried Mrs. La Grange, excitedly. "Go on, child!""Well, the funniest sight of all was Cousin Lois. She drew her chin in and waved her fan and puffed herself out for all the world like our turkey-hen. I could have laughed.""I know just how she felt--just how I should have felt in her place if you had been treated as Carolina was. Then did he dance with you?""Yes, then he danced with me. Then with Carolina again. Then she said to him, 'Now, Sir Hubert, I want you to meet some of these pretty girls, but as I don't know them myself, I shall ask Mr. Little to take you around and introduce you to the brightest of them, so that you will take away with you the best impression of our Southern girls.'""Oh, Peachie! I couldn't have done that!""Nor I either, mother. I just couldn't. So Jim started to take him, but he said, 'Just wait a moment.' Then he came to me and took--""I hope he took more than one!" cried Mrs. La Grange, jealously."He took seven, mother. And in the German he favoured me until--""That was too many, Peachie. You ought not--""I know, dearest honey mother. I ought not to do heaps of things I do do, but after all, what do I care what those people think of me? All they can say is that I flirted with him--""Or that he flirted with you," laughed her mother."Oh, yes, they will say that, never fear. And yet--""And yet what, my darling? Here we are at home.""And yet he took Cousin Lois and Carolina to Jacksonville on his yacht, and he asked me to go, but I said I had to get back to you, and he was with us all the rest of the time we were there--"Her mother turned and looked at her."And he is coming to see me on his way back."As Mrs. La Grange stepped from the carriage with the air of a queen descending from her chariot, she put her arm around her daughter's waist and said:"I think I have to be proud of a dear, generous little girl whose loyalty caused an otherwise pleasant week to be spoiled."Peachie's cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkled."It wasn't quite spoiled, mother dear. Oh, honey, he is the handsomest man and the best dancer! Just wait till you see him!"
CHAPTER XV.
THE BLIND BABY
The same terrible suspicion which had entered Aunt Angie La Grange's mind when she overheard Flower's innocent words had occurred to Carolina, and as there seemed to be one of those sudden new-born bonds of sympathy between the beautiful old woman and the beautiful young girl, which sometimes spring into existence without warning, yet with good reason, as afterwards transpires, Carolina was not surprised to have Aunt Angie draw her aside after supper and say:
"Carolina, child, what did you think when you heard what Flower said about little Arthur?"
"I thought just what you thought, Aunt Angie, at first, then--"
"Then what?"
"Nothing."
"Now, Carol, you were going to say something! What was it? I am sure the thought that I am a comparative stranger to you stopped the words on your lips."
"I am afraid that you wouldn't understand what I was going to say, Aunt Angie, dear, and I don't want to antagonize you. I like you too much."
"Dear child, nothing that your silver tongue could utter could antagonize me after your sweet generosity to my daughter this afternoon. Oh, Carol, don't you think my mother-heart aches at not being able to dress my pretty girl in such fairy fabrics as you showed us? And then to think of your giving her that pink silk! Why, Peachie won't sleep a wink for a week, and I doubt if her mother does, either! Now she can go to the Valentine German in Savannah. You must go, too. I will arrange it. I--but my tongue is running away with me. Tell me what you were going to say."
"Well," said Carolina, hesitatingly, "you have heard that I am a Christian Scientist, haven't you?"
"Yes, dear, I have, and I must say that I deeply regret it. Not that I know anything about it, but--"
"That's the way every one feels who doesn't know about it," cried Carolina, earnestly; "but that is nothing but prejudice which will wear away. Indeed, indeed it will, Aunt Angie."
Mrs. La Grange shook her head.
"I am a dyed-in-the-wool Presbyterian, and I've fought, bled, and died for my religion in a family who believe that God created the Church of England first and then turned His attention to the creation of the earth, so you can't expect me to welcome a new fad, can you, my dear? But I beg your pardon, Carol. What were you going to say?"
"It was only this," said Carolina, gently. "That even if Flower's baby is blind to mortal sight, he is not blind in God's eyes. There he is perfect, for God, who is Incarnate Love, never created a blind or dumb baby."
Tears rushed suddenly to the old woman's eyes.
"Are you thinking of poor little Teddy Fitzhugh?" she whispered.
"Yes, I was."
"Oh, Carolina! If you could have seen his mother's anguish all these years! But you would have to be a mother yourself before you could even apprehend it."
"Yes, I suppose I would."
"And now," said the older woman, with that patient tightening of the lips with which so many Christian women prepare themselves to bear the heart-breaking calamities which they believe a tender Heavenly Father inflicts on those He loves, "I suppose I must steel my heart to see poor Flower writhe under a worse agony. Indeed, Carol, God's ways are hard to understand."
"Yes, God is such a peculiar sort of parent," observed Carolina. "He seems to do things with impunity, which if an earthly father did, the neighbours would lynch him."
Aunt Angie La Grange sat up with a spring of fright.
"Why, Carolina Lee! What sacrilege! You will certainly be punished by an avenging God for such blasphemy. You shock me, Carolina. You really do."
"Forgive me, Aunt Angie. I only meant to imply that the God I believe in is a God of such love that He never sends anything but good to His children."
"Then how do you get around that saying, 'Whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth?'"
"There is authority for translating that word 'chasteneth,' 'instructeth.' But even if you leave it 'chasteneth,' it doesn't mean a life-long disfigurement or crippling of innocent babies. Supposing Peachie should disobey you, or even disgrace you, would you deliberately infect her with smallpox to destroy her beauty or send her into a train wreck to lame her or paralyze for life?"
Mrs. La Grange only looked into Carolina's eyes for reply, but her hands gripped the arms of her chair until her nails were white.
"Yet you are only her earthly--her human--her finite mother. How much greater capacity has the Infinite Heart for love!"
Mrs. La Grange stirred restlessly.
"It is beautiful," she breathed, "but--disquieting. It upsets all my old beliefs."
"'And good riddance to bad rubbish,' as we children used to say," said Carolina, smiling. Aunt Angie smiled in answer, but a trifle dubiously.
"Carolina," she said, "Moultrie told me--but of course you never said such a thing and I told him then that he must have misunderstood you--that Gladys Yancey was cured by Christian Science! Now, whatdidyou say?"
"I said just that. Shewascured by Christian Science."
"I don't believe it!" cried Aunt Angie. "Excuse me, dear child, for saying so. I know that you are truthful and that you believe it, butIdon't. I'd have to see it done."
"If you saw Teddy Fitzhugh taught to speak plainly, would you believe?"
"My dear, I'd leave the Presbyterian Church and join the Christian Scientists so quickly my church letter would be torn by the way I'd snatch it."
Carolina laughed and squeezed Aunt Angie's hand, who added with a smile:
"I suppose you think I am as good as caught already, don't you?"
"I hope you are. You can't imagine how much peace it brings."
"Peace! It's something I never have had, child."
"Nor I. But I have it now."
"What does your religion compel you to give up? Peachie absolutely refuses to join the church because it won't allow dancing, and the child loves to dance better than anything in the world. They tell me, too, that she dances like a fairy." Aunt Angie pronounced it "fayry."
"Why, that is one of the best things about Christian Science. It requires you to give up no innocent pleasure. It only cautions one against indulging to excess in anything. Dancing, card-playing, games,--why, some of the best card-players I know are Christian Scientists, but they don't lose their tempers when they lose a game and they don't cheat to win. In fact, one of the most graceful things I have ever seen done was when two ladies tied for the prize--a beautiful gold vase--at a bridge party Addie gave just before she closed her house, and the lady who won had played coolly, well, and won by merit. The other flung herself back in her chair with an exclamation, showing by her suffused face and clenched hands every sign of ill-temper. My sister-in-law brought the prize to the winner, who, with the prettiest grace imaginable, thanked her and then presented it, by Addie's permission, to the vexed lady who had lost. You should have seen the recipient's face! Surprise, humiliation, and cupidity struggled almost audibly for supremacy. She protested feebly, but ended by taking it. A number of others gathered around, attracted by the unusual scene, and suddenly the owner of the vase said to the giver of it: 'I would like to know what church you go to.' 'Well, as none of you know, you may guess,' she answered. They guessed Baptist, Methodist, Unitarian, Episcopal, and finally the recipient of the vase said: 'No, you are all wrong. I believe she is a Christian Scientist, because no one but a Christian Scientist would give up a gold vase!'"
"I like that," said Aunt Angie, promptly. "And I think the churches make a mistake in forbidding innocent pleasures. Oh, why don't they dwell on the good instead of squabbling over the bad?"
"You have described one of the chief differences between the Christian Science and the other churches," cried Carolina. "Why, Aunt Angie, you are a ready-made Scientist!"
"Am I? Well, we shall see. Now tell me when you can go to see Flower. Was Moultrie able to buy Araby for you?"
"No, Mr. Mazyck refused to sell her. But Moultrie has lent me Scintilla until he can find another good horse for me."
"But you especially wanted Araby, didn't you?"
"Yes, because she is a direct descendant of the sire of my grandfather's favourite saddle-horse. And she is simply perfect, Aunt Angie."
"I am afraid Barney Mazyck is hopeless. If he wants a thing, he wants it and is going to keep it."
"I know; but I have not despaired of getting her yet. Perhaps I am just as bent upon getting her as Mr. Barnwell Mazyck is upon keeping her."
"And in that case--"
"Well, I wouldn't put any money on Mr. Mazyck!" laughed Carolina.
In the slight pause which ensued, Carolina could see that Mrs. La Grange was ill at ease. Suddenly she turned to the girl and said:
"My dear, doubtless you think it strange that I do not know beyond a doubt the state of my own little grandson's sight, but--"
"I know," said Carolina, gently. "I have heard."
"Who told you? Some stranger?"
"No, Moultrie told me."
"Ah, then you have heard the truth! It is a terrible grief to us, Carolina. Think of the child! I do not know who my own grandson is descended from!"
"But you will know," said Carolina, earnestly. "And soon. I--we have a right to expect God's harmony in our lives."
Mrs. La Grange looked at her curiously, but only said, with a sigh:
"I am sure I hope you may be right."
It was arranged that Carolina was to meet Mrs. La Grange at Flower's the next afternoon at three o'clock.
"Can't you go in the morning?" asked Mrs. La Grange.
"I have an appointment with the architect from Charleston and the builders at Guildford at ten. We wouldn't get through in time, I am afraid, for there will be so much to discuss."
"Won't you be too tired?"
"I never get tired. There is rest in action for me."
Mrs. La Grange shook her head, but not in disapproval.
"I hope I am going to like it. If I like all of it as well as I do the sample bits you have fed me with, I think, as you say, you may find that I have been a Scientist all my life without knowing it."
Mrs. La Grange looked into the girl's pure, beautiful face scrutinizingly, as if to learn her secret of happiness, and, as she did so, she was surprised to see it suffused by a blush which rose in delicate waves to her hair. Looking about in surprise for a cause, Mrs. La Grange saw her son Moultrie approaching. Could Carolina have recognized his step without seeing him, and was that blush for Moultrie?
The question could not be answered at once, nor did she see them together the next day, for Carolina was late in keeping her appointment, and, by the time she arrived, the awful truth was known. Mrs. La Grange had been so overcome that Moultrie was obliged to take her home.
The moment Carolina rode up to the house, she knew that something had happened. The house, a mere cabin, was ominously quiet, and no one came to meet her.
She dismounted hurriedly, fastened Scintilla to the fence, and ran up the steps. No one answered her knock. She pushed open the door and entered.
At first she saw no one, but presently she heard heavy breathing, and, crouching on the floor, in the darkest corner of the room, she saw Flower, holding the still form of her baby in her arms. Her posture and the glare in her eyes were tigerish.
With a low cry, Carolina sprang to her side.
"Oh, Flower, darling! What is the matter with your baby?"
"You may take him," said Flower, dully. "You care! You cared yesterday. I can tell. She only cares because Arthur is a La Grange. You will care just because he a helpless little blind baby. Oh! oh!"
"Not blind, Flower! Don't say it. Don't think it. Your baby sees."
"No, Cousin Carol. You are good and kind, but Mrs. La Grange made me see for myself. We took a candle and held it so close to his eyes we nearly burned his little face--"
"You?" cried Carolina. "Were you in the room?"
"That's what Moultrie said, but you don't either of you know. When you have a child of your own, you will both understand that a mother can't keep away. She must know the worst, and she must be there when it happens."
"Oh, poor Flower! Poor child!" cried Carolina, weeping unrestrainedly. She cuddled the baby's face in her neck, and Flower watched her apathetically. Flower's face was suffused from stormy weeping, but she had wept herself out.
"And you had to bear this all alone, poor lamb!"
"I wanted to be alone! I wanted her to go. They meant to be kind, but they don't love me, and they don't love my little baby. I would rather be alone. Who could I send for--the priest? When he predicted it?"
"What did he predict?" asked Carolina, quickly.
"He was very angry because we went to New York to be married. He lost fifty dollars by it. That is what he charges even poor people like me. And because I married a heretic, and because I was not married by a priest, he cursed me and my offspring. Then--" she broke off suddenly and cried: "Oh, why do I tell it all? Why do I trust even you?"
"Because you know that I can help you," said Carolina, gravely.
"No one can help me--not even God!"
"Say what you were going to," urged Carolina.
"Well, the child is bewitched. Every time there is a thunder-storm, or if I am even left alone with the baby, like to-day, when I let Aunt Tempy have her afternoon--there she is now!"
With a shriek of terror she pointed to the window, and Carolina looked just in time to see a dark face disappear from view. She ran to the door, but nothing could be seen. Not a sound could be heard.
"It is the voodoo!" whispered Flower. "That face always comes. Once I saw it in the room, bending over the cradle when the baby was asleep. But I never can catch her. Aunt Tempy has seen her, so has Winfield. She has cast an evil spirit over my baby."
"Her face looked kind--it even looked worried," thought Carolina to herself, but she said nothing to Flower. She only sat rocking the sleeping baby, wiping the tears which rolled down her cheeks at the sight of the mother's anguish.
"Flower," she said, suddenly, "did you ever see Gladys Yancey before Miss Sue took her North?"
"Heaps of times."
"Did you ever hear how she was cured?"
"Why, Moultrie told Winfield that it was a new kind of religion that did it, and Winfield just hollered and laughed."
"Well, if I could prove to you that your baby could be made to see, would you holler and laugh?"
"I reckon I wouldn't. I'd kiss your feet."
"The only trouble," murmured Carolina, half to herself, "is that you are a Roman Catholic. We do not like to interfere with them."
"I am not a Roman Catholic," said Flower. "The lady who brought me up, and whom I was taught to believe was my aunt, was a Catholic, but I never was baptized. I believe Father Hennessey knows who I am, and that, if he would, he could clear up the mystery of my birth and give me back my happiness. But he never will until I join his church. He told me so."
"Is he an old man?" asked Carolina.
"Oh, a very old man. He must be over eighty,"
A slight pause ensued. Then Carolina said: "Would you like to hear of this new religion?"
"If it will give my baby eyes, Cousin Carolina, how can you even stop to ask?"
"Oh, my dear, it is only because we are taught to go cautiously,--to be sure our help is wanted before we offer."
"Well, offer it to me. I want your help with all my soul!"
She rose from her corner and came and sat at Carolina's feet. Something of Carolina's sincerity, which always appealed to people, moved her to believe that Carolina could help her. Flower's mind, too, though it may sound like an anomaly, had been trained by her aunt's Catholicism to believe in signs and wonders, and her superstitions had been carefully educated. Therefore, when a more analytical mind might have hesitated to believe that material help for a supposed hopeless affliction could come from religion, instead of from a knife or a drug, which even the most skeptical may see and handle and thus believe, Flower, by her very childishness, held up a receptive mind for the planting of the seed of an immortal truth.
The gravity of the situation caused Carolina a moment's wrestle with error. The burning eyes of the young mother fastened on Carolina's face with such agonizing belief,--the feeble flutterings of the sleeping baby in her arms terrified her for a brief second. Then she lifted her heart to the boundless source of supply for every human need, and in a moment she felt quieted and could begin.
"Flower," she said, "do you believe in God?"
"Of course I do."
"Did you ever read your Bible?"
"No."
"Have you one?"
"No."
"Will you promise to read it if I will give you one?"
"I will do whatever you want me to."
Carolina hesitated a moment.
"Will your husband object to your trying Christian Science with the baby?"
"I don't know--yes, I suppose he will. What shall we do?"
"What will he want to do when he first learns that the baby is blind?"
"I reckon he'll want to have Doctor Dodge see him."
"There is no objection to that. Then what will he do?"
"There isn't anything we can do just now, Cousin Carol. We have had a dreadful time even to live since we were married. And look what a shanty we live in! Not fit for a negro. And Winfield a La Grange! Of course, if the crops are better next year we might be able to take him away to consult some big doctor, but this winter we can't do anything at all."
"I don't know what to do," said Carolina. "You ought to get your husband's consent first."
"Well, what do you want me to do? Does your treatment commence right away?"
"It is already begun."
"Why, how? You haven't done anything that I could see. Do you pray?"
"Not to any virgin or saint, Flower."
"No, I know that Protestants pray to God. Is that what you want me to do?"
"I want you first to have a talk with Winfield and Moultrie--"
"Moultrie will help me!" interrupted Flower. "I'll ask him to talk to Winfield."
"Well, do that. Then if he says you may try it, I want you not to tell another soul, especially don't let Aunt Tempy or any of the negroes know a word about it. I want you to get up about twelve o'clock every night and light your candle, and put it where it shines directly in the baby's eyes. It can't hurt him. Then read the whole of the New Testament,--just as much every night as you can for one hour, believing that everything which was true of Jesus and His disciples then, can be and is true of His disciples on earth to-day, and that, if any one of us could ever be as pure and holy as He was, that we could do the one thing which is denied us yet,--that is, raise the dead! Will you?"
"Indeed, I will."
"Then every night I will treat your baby's eyes by mind-healing, which I will explain to you a little later. In the meantime, you watch very closely to see the first indication which Arthur's eyes give of the light's making him stir, for that will show that his darkness is lifting and that he is beginning to see."
Flower raised herself up and clung to Carolina's knees and buried her face in her dress, weeping bitterly.
"Oh, oh! Don't think I am unhappy. I am crying because I think you can do it. How long will it take?"
"No one can say. It may only take one treatment, or it may take years. 'According to your faith be it unto you.'"
Just then, as Carolina rose to go, the baby wakened, and Flower reached for him and pressed him to her bosom in a passion of grief and hope.
"Look!" she whispered to Carolina, "you can tell from the very expression of his little eyes that he can't see. I remember now that once the sun was shining right into his eyes, and he kept them open, but I didn't notice it at the time."
"Remember this, Flower. We think that he can't see. But in God's eyes he is perfect. With Him there is no blindness nor sickness nor sin nor sorrow. He will take away your grief. He will wipe away all tears from your eyes."
CHAPTER XVI.
A LETTER FROM CAROLINA
"January 27, 19--
"MY DEAR MR. HOWARD:--If only I could drop in on you this evening and make my report in person, what couldn't I tell! You would laugh if you knew why we call our house The Bath. But first, have I ever told you that we have a house? Well, Guildford is so far from even Whitehall, which is the nearest place we visited, that I lost too much time in coming and going. I must have been eight hours in the saddle some days, and I didn't get on fast enough to suit my leaping ambition,--and--bathrooms are scarce in the country, so Cousin Lois and I decided to build a model cabin or quarters before we started the house, and live on the place. There was already a windmill, so I ordered a porcelain tub in Charleston, and built my house around it. Cousin Lois preëmpts it most of the time, but I get my full share, and it is a luxury. Did you ever try going without a bathroom? Try it. It will make you 't'ink ob yo' marcies,' as the negroes say.
"Oh, we are so happy! Every day some of the dear neighbours who knew Guildford in its prime ride or drive over to tell me little forgotten quirks of the blessed place, and to assure me that I am copying it faithfully. Cousin Lois calls it curiosity, but I think it is interest. But the primitive methods in vogue in the South--well, you simply would not believe me unless you saw them. For example, at the turpentine plant at Schoville, which I will tell you more of later, my engineer found them ladling out the crude turpentine by hand, when you know it ought to be piped, and half the time this cheap negro labour, which they hire to save machinery, is drunk or striking, which often shuts down the plant for days at a time,--ten days at Christmas always. Machinery may be expensive, but, at least, it doesn't get drunk, and by means of it a man may run his business, even in the South, regularly, and so build up a reputation for reliability, which, honestly, Mr. Howard, nobody down here seems to know the meaning of, as we understand it! Any excuse serves. Just make your excuse--that's all. It not only seems to relieve the conscience of the purveyor, but satisfies the consumer as well. In Georgia it is a State law not to move freight on Sunday. Imagine that, added to the railroad service as it stands! And in a certain town in Middle Georgia, the fire-engines are drawn by oxen. I enclose the kodak I took of it, for I know you won't believe me else. One thing the South needs more than anything else is some of our Northern Italian labour. Then the negroes will see what it really is to work.
"But I am running away with myself.
"I shall skip all I can, and only tell the essentials.
"After we left Whitehall, nothing would do but we must pay a round of visits among the Lees and La Granges, which we did, staying as short a time as possible with each, partly because I could not properly attend to my work, and partly because of the heart-breaking poverty of all my poor dear relatives. If you could only see their bravery, their pride, and their wholly absurd fury at the bare suggestion that ease and comfort might come to them from admitting Northern capital! I think if they knew that my money comes through you, they would force me to starve with them rather than be indebted to a ---- Yankee. The ladies don't use that word with their lips, but their eyes say it. As it is, they think I am still selling my jewels. And I don't contradict them, simply because there is no use in giving them pain. Their hatred of the North is something which cannot be eradicated in a day. It is a factor in business which blocks the path of every well-wisher of the South, and is an entity to be reckoned with just as palpably as credit. The man who ignores it makes a mistake which sooner or later will bring him up with a jerk. I dwell upon this, because, if we form the syndicate which you propose, it must be managed craftily, and I know you will not disregard my warning.
"As an example of it, let me tell what has befallen the plant for making wood turpentine at Schoville, Georgia. It is a fine, modern, up-to-date plant of the steam process, backed and controlled by Judd Brothers & Morgan, of Brooklyn. Their representative approached my counsel, offering to sell. The Brooklyn firm own fifty-one per cent. of the stock, and the rest is taken by citizens of Schoville. I sent my man, Donohue, down to investigate the process, intending, if I didn't buy, to organize a similar company and operate under their patents, as I find theirs, if not the best, is at least a satisfactory process, and turns out a pure water-white turpentine with a specific gravity of 31.70. And Donohue asserts that by the use of steam he can eliminate the objectionable odour. He has been in the employ of both the Schoville and the Lightning companies and is a valuable man, though not strictly honest. Donohue was satisfied that there was something wrong at Schoville, and advised me to hold off. He reported the plant out of repair, although the books showed money in plenty supplied by the owners. Donohue then visited the plant at Lightning, Georgia, and found everything all right. It has since transpired that the foreman of the plant at Schoville, a cracker named Leakin, had deliberately shipped crude turpentine, which of course was of rank odour and off colour, to the factors at Savannah, who shipped it to Germany and South America without giving it a very careful examination. As is usual with these men, they were too slack to make the thorough examination before making shipment which the law requires, and paid over an advance of thirty-five cents a gallon to Leakin like innocent little lambs. Of course, the inevitable occurred. Buenos Ayres and Berlin not only refused to pay, but returned the consignment, and the Savannah factors now refuse to touch wood turpentine at any price.
"It seems that, when the Northern owners sent their representative down to investigate, Leakin frankly told him that he did not intend to make money for any ---- Yankees. They thereupon swore out a warrant for his arrest, but he wrecked the plant at night and was hurried out of town by his relatives.
"Now, so far from discouraging me, this serves my purpose well. For with sixty per cent. profit on the manufacture of wood turpentine on paper (as per my previous reports), which cuts to between forty and fifty in actual operation, it is one of the future industries of the South. Of course the little plant I propose to build at Guildford or near by will only be a mouthful. I figure that between ten and twelve millions of dollars would corner the turpentine market, and then put the price of orchard turpentine so high that it would practically be off the market. Then we could force the consumers to take wood turpentine in its place, and in this way show them that it will do the same work and bring the same results as the regular orchard turpentine. They are afraid of it now, so they must be reduced by compulsion to giving it a fair trial. I bought ten barrels of wood turpentine made by the company at Lightning, and sent a small sample to every paint and varnish manufacturer in the United States, with a letter giving them the chemical analysis and asking the recipient to give it a fair trial. About one-third replied that it seemed satisfactory, and sent me orders for from five to ten barrels for a trial, but they want it at about ten cents per gallon less than the orchard. It seems that no one will pay within ten cents of the regular market price. I turned these orders over to the Lightning company on a commission, and am making quite a neat little sum out of it, though I never thought of that end of the proposition when I sent out the samples. I tried the experiment to see what sort of a market I could look for. There is no reason why this wood turpentine should not be shipped and sold as regular turpentine, and one good strong corner on the market will bring this about.
"To continue my investigations, I want you to organize a small company, giving me control. I shall erect a twenty-cord plant between Enterprise and Guildford, within wagon distance of the wood-supply of the estate. Recollect that this process uses only the fallen trees and stumps of the long-leafed pine, which are reduced to a sawdust, and this is then put into the retorts. Steam is then injected, which tries out the turpentine, which is then run into the refining still.
"I can arouse no interest whatever among my relatives. They simply think I am crazy. I even suggested to my uncle, Judge Fanshaw Lee, of Charleston, the simple proposition of joining me in the purchase of a stump-puller to clear his land for rice and cotton, but he wouldn't do it, and continues to plant in fields dotted with old stumps. But he will rent it from me ifIbuy one! So please order immediately the most improved sort, and consign it to me at Enterprise, S.C.
"Even though I am a Southerner by blood, and anxious to improve the country in general, and my relatives in particular, I work under inconceivable difficulties. I sent my lawyer to one of the biggest factors in Savannah, by the name of James Oldfield, to suggest a combine to corner turpentine, offering to raise nine million dollars, if he and his friends would raise one million. Legare reported that 'Oldfield's head hit the ceiling' at the mere suggestion. But, upon being drawn out, Oldfield admitted that twenty years ago he had entertained a similar idea, although, of course, at that time not for the purpose of introducing wood turpentine. But his ideas were on too narrow-gauge a plan to admit the suggestion now. So we shall simply be obliged to do it without him.
"It seems to me that, with the South in the mental attitude it now holds, it will need some radical means, such as a turpentine corner, to force Southern landowners to reinvest money in their own property. Many a man is land poor with thousands of dollars' worth of stumps and fallen trees on his land which are suitable for wood turpentine. In order to supply the demand, the orchard people are obliged each year to find two million acres of virgin forest for their operations. After bleeding these for three years, the lumber men then enter and cut the timber, thus leaving millions of fallen trees and stumps, all of which are suitable for our process. Now, it would take years to educate these landowners in the process of extracting turpentine from this stumpage, while a corner in orchard turpentine would, in three months, turn the attention of half the chemists and inventors in the United States toward bettering present processes and discovering new ones. Every newspaper in the land would give this New Southern Industry millions of dollars' worth of free advertising, and inside of ten years the whole South would blossom as a rose.
"I have hinted at this before, but have not explained it because the time was not ripe. Now, after six months of untiring investigation by trustworthy agents, and after bitter personal experience, I find that no help whatsoever can be expected from the South. Rather they will fight us at every step, like children compelled to take medicine. Did you ever see a health officer try to vaccinate a negro settlement on the outbreak of a smallpox epidemic?
"You understand me, do you not? Tell me if I make my point sufficiently clear. I propose to corner turpentine, not for the purpose of raising the price, but to take the orchard stuff completely off the market until we have forced the public to give wood turpentine a trial. It has been demonstrated in every department that the patented product will do the work of the orchard, not only just as well, but in some cases, as that of paint, it actually holds the colour better.
"If you are still interested, let me know and I will explain my developed plan. Meanwhile I welcome suggestions from you, or any of your interested parties.
"With devoted love to all in your dear house, I am,
"CAROLINA LEE."
CHAPTER XVII.
IN THE BARNWELLS' CARRYALL
Aunt Angie La Grange descended from the Barnwells' carryall in front of the station platform at Enterprise, and tapped on the window of the telegraph-agent's box.
"How late is the train from Savannah, Barney, son?"
Mr. Mazyck sauntered out.
"Only about three hours to-day, Aunt Angie. Expecting the folks?"
"Only Peachie. Mrs. Winchester and Carolina went on down to Jacksonville on business. Did you ever see such a girl?"
"I never did. She scares me 'most to death. I'd like to marry her, Aunt Angie, but what could I--what could any man do with such a wife?"
"She'd make any man rich. Moultrie says she goes so far ahead of him in her ideas of business, he can't even keep her in sight."
"Oh, any man has got to make up his mind to take her dust!" laughed Barnwell.
"Are you in earnest about marrying her, Barney?"
"Of cou'se I am! Aren't all the boys? Isn't Moultrie?"
A shade darkened Aunt Angie's face.
"You know, son, that Moultrie will never marry unless--"
"Exactly! Unless! Well, there's a heap of unlesses which may he'p him to change his mind. And maybe Miss Carolina is one of them."
"I'd be proud to have him win her, but, as you say, all the boys are in love with her, here and in Charleston, and now she has been to Savannah, I suppose they will follow suit, and--"
"Poor Jacksonville!" sighed Barnwell.
Mrs. La Grange laughed.
"We haven't had such a belle in South Carolina in many years," she said. "Before the war--" and she sighed.
Barney laughed unfeelingly, and Mrs. La Grange continued:
"How about Araby, son? Are you going to sell her to Carolina?"
"Indeed I am not, Aunt Angie. I'd give her to Miss Carolina before I'd sell her to anybody else; but, to tell you the truth, I'd about die if I had to part with that mare! She's human. Sound as a dollar and not a trick of any kind. That nigger horse-trainer is a magician with animals. I'm blest if I don't believe he'll teach Araby to talk before he quits. And she whinnies if she even passes him in a crowd."
"Carolina wants her worse than anything in the world."
"Well, she can just go awn wantin'," said the usually gallant Mr. Mazyck, ungallantly. "If I'd give Araby to her, I'd lose both my mare and my sweetheart."
"Somehow or other I can't help thinking that Carolina will get that horse in spite of you. Barney, do go and see what time it is! This is the third time I've been down here to wait for this mean train!"
"Yonder she comes now. Only three hours and fifteen minutes late. That's not so bad, Aunt Angie. When she tries, she can tardy herself up a heap mo' than that!"
Mrs. La Grange anxiously scanned the shabby coaches for a sight of her daughter's blooming face. Peachie jumped from the car steps and ran to her mother's arms. They kissed each other like two lovers who had been parted for years.
"Have you had a pleasant week, darling baby?" asked her mother.
Peachie's pink cheeks paled and her face clouded over.
"No, I haven't," she whispered, hurriedly, "but I don't want anybody but you to know. Don't let Barney ask me. Let's hurry."
Mrs. La Grange led the way to the borrowed carriage with a sinking heart. Aside from two visits to her aunt in Charleston, this was the only time Peachie had ever been away from home. And now to have this invitation to visit Savannah, given the year before and anticipated all this time, turn into the failure which Peachie's face indicated, was almost as great a disappointment to Mrs. La Grange as to the girl herself.
In the carriage, where Old Moses could not hear them, the mother anxiously awaited the story.
"Begin at the beginning and don't skip a word. We've two good hours before us with nobody to interrupt."
"Well, you know how happy Carolina was at the prospect of taking me to a fine hotel like the De Soto, and how lovely my clothes were, and how pleased Cousin Lois was at the prospect of seeing her old friends there? Well, people called, of course,--none of the girls, though,--and Mrs. General Giddings, who is the leader of Savannah society, at once asked Cousin Lois to be a chaperon at the Valentine Ball. John Hobson invited me, and Jim Little asked Carolina, and, do you know, it was the first time in all her life that Carolina had ever been to a ball with a man! She says she always went with a chaperon and met her partners at the dance. And she wanted to do that in Savannah, but Mrs. Giddings assured her that it was all right, and so she did.
"Oh, mother, I wish you could have seen us that night! You know how I looked, but Cousin Lois wore a black satin brocade, studded with real turquoises and blue ostrich feathers woven into the goods. And, with all her size, she looked perfectly lovely. Carolina wore a white Paris muslin over white silk, with every flounce trimmed with real lace. Her hair looked as if she only had one pin in it, it was so loose and fluffy and--well, artistic is the only word to describe her. She looked like a fairy princess. It began in the dressing-room."
"What began?
"Well--Savannah began!" cried Peachie. "I never heard of such things happening to our girls when they go to Atlanta and Columbus and Augusta and Macon, while as for Charleston!--well, I needn't defend Charleston manners toyou, mother!
"Not a soul spoke to us, although everybody knew we were strangers and everybody knew who we were, for of course it was in the papers,--such distinguished arrivals as Mrs. Rhett Winchester and Carolina Lee! But not a girl came near. They hollered and joked among themselves, and somebody would whisper to two or three, then the whole roomful would scream like wild Indians, and once one of the boys came to the door and called to them to hurry up, and one girl screamed back, 'Shut yo' big mouth!' and the rest fairly yelled with approval.
"Then one girl was just going out with her bodice all gaping open, and Carolina stepped up to her as sweetly as if she had been received with perfect politeness and asked if she mightn't fasten it. The hooks were half off, so Carolina took a paper of pins and fairly pinned that girl into her clothes,--her waist and skirt didn't meet. She accepted all this help, thanked her, and went out, leaving us all alone. Then our boys came and took us down to the ballroom, and, if you will believe it, mother, not a girl came near us or asked to be introduced or introduced a single boy! Not even the girl that Carolina had helped. I looked at Carolina to see if she noticed it, but her face was as calm as it always is. Her colour, however, was a little less than usual at first.
"We noticed that things sort of dragged at first, and soon we found out what it was. An English yacht was in the river, and its owner, Sir Hubert Wemyss, a young man only about thirty, was expected, and all the girls were trying to save dances for him, and all the boys were trying to get the choice ones.
"The first dance I didn't watch Carolina, because I had heard that Jim Little was a good dancer, but, after it was over, I saw him take her to the door and she went up to the dressing-room. I made John stop near him, and I asked him what was the matter. 'Oh, I stuck my foot through the lace of her dress, and she's gone to be sewed up. Say, Miss Peachie, that girl can't dance! I never saw a Yankee that could!'
"Well, mother, I could scarcely believe my ears! The conceit of that raw Southern boy, who never had been outside of his own little town in the whole of his life, except to go duck-shooting in the swamps, to presume to criticize Carolina's dancing!"
"What did you say to him, sweetheart?"
Aunt Angie's cheeks were as red as any girl's. She sat bolt upright in the borrowed carriage, in her cheap print dress and cotton gloves, looking like an empress. The proudest blood in South Carolina flowed in her veins and she had the spirit of her State.
"I said, 'Are you sure, Mr. Little, that the fault was all hers?' And he laughed and said, 'Well, the Savannah girls never find fault with my dancing, Miss Peachie!' 'Oh,' I said, 'if such criterions have stamped their approval on you, Mr. Little, of course there is no more to be said!' He didn't see the sarcasm at all,--he seems a trifle dense. So we waited for Carolina, and when she came back, I saw that her dress was ruined, but she had managed to hide it pretty well, and her manner was just as sweet to that man as if he had been fanning her, and we all four went back to Cousin Lois.
"The next dance we changed partners, Jim Little taking me and John Hobson taking Carolina. Now John is said to be the best dancer in Savannah, so I kept an eye on them, but they didn't do very well. Carolina's colour began to rise and her eyes began to grow that purplish black--you remember? Oh, she looked so beautiful! But she wasn't enjoying herself, and she stopped near me to rest. Then I heard John say, 'You dance more like a Southern girl than any Yankee I ever knew!' Think, mother! That was twice she had been called a Yankee before we had been there an hour. A Lee of South Carolina! Her cheeks just grew a little warmer and she lifted her chin a little higher, but didn't correct him--just said, 'I suppose you intend that for a compliment, Mr. Hobson?' 'I should say I did!' he said. 'I never saw a Yankee girl who could dance in all my born days!' 'How do you account for that?' asked Carolina, in just as sweet a tone, mother, as she always uses. Me? I was just boiling! I was ready to cry!"
Her mother pressed her hand. Aunt Angle's own lips were trembling with indignation.
"'Oh,' the fool said, 'I reckon they don't get as many chances to dance as our girls do!' Well, that saved me. I began to laugh and I laughed until I nearly went into hysterics. I had to excuse myself and ask Jim to get me some water!"
"Did Carolina laugh, too?" asked Mrs. La Grange.
"Well, she smiled, and I knew from that, that she was only holding herself in.
"The next was a Lancers. Carolina danced with Rube Bryan. He is very tall and from the first he tried to get fresh with Carolina. I was in the same set dancing with John again. And I want to say right here that I never saw such unladylike and ungentlemanly dancing in all my life. Why, in Charleston the chaperons would have requested the whole dance to be stopped. They wouldn't have permitted such hootings and yellings, such jumps and shouts. Girls yelled at each other across the whole hall--just like negroes. 'Go it, Virgie!' 'Shake a foot, Nell!' In the ladies' chain the boys jerked the girls so that one girl in our set was thrown down and her wrist sprained."
"I was getting frightened and I could see that Carolina was on the verge of leaving the set. Then she seemed to brace herself, for Mrs. Winchester had left the line of chaperons and was making her way down to where we were dancing. And mother, there was rage in her whole bearing. She just looked as if Carolina were being insulted by dancing with such rowdies. But Carolina gave her a look and she did not interfere. She stood there, however."
"Did anything happen, Peachie?" asked Mrs. La Grange, unable to wait for the sequel.
"Yes, mother, it did. I believe those girls had dared him to, because he waited until the very last, then he lifted Carolina off her feet clear up into the air, and landed her in front of Mrs. Winchester with a deep bow. Everybody laughed and screamed for a minute, then something in the attitude of both Mrs. Winchester and Carolina made them hush. Cousin Lois's voice was low, but you could hear it all over the room.
"'Young man,' she said, 'your name is unknown to me, but let me say to you that you are not a gentleman!'
"What happened then?" cried Mrs. La Grange.
"Mrs. Giddings, of course. She always says the cutting thing. 'You are perfectly right, Lois,' she said, 'the man is a nobody. We expect such manners from nobodies. Not that the somebodies are any better, if this dance is a sample. This is my first appearance. Rest assured that it will be my last. We Giddings don't chaperon barn dances!'
"That, from Mrs. Giddings, seemed to sober them. They all moved away leaving Rube Bryan bowing and scraping and trying to square himself. Cousin Lois simply waved him aside as if he were a piccaninny. She asked Carolina if she wanted to go home. Carolina hesitated a minute, then she lifted that chin of hers and said, 'No; a Lee cannot be driven from a ballroom by rudeness. Just let me go and put on my truth!"
"Bless the child!" cried Mrs. La Grange, who was as excited as a spectator at his first horse-race. "Bless her! There is pride! There is what the French call 'race'! And to see the dearputting on the armour of her religion even in a ballroom!"
"Mother, Carolina's religion helps her in everything. Why, she just stepped out of sight behind a row of palms. She went to a window and reached up one arm and leaned her head against it. With the other hand she drew back the curtain and looked up at the stars. I put my arm around her and she said, in a low, distinct voice. 'The eternal God is thy refuge and underneath are the everlasting arms.' 'And mother, it made the tears come to my eyes. To think of my beautiful Carolina, with nothing but love in her heart for the whole South, to come home to us and be treated so rudely that she had to appeal to God to help her to get through something which ought to have been only a pleasure to her!"
"I know, my dear baby," said her mother, whose own eyes were suspiciously bright, "but I rather imagine that to a girl who has seen the best society that Europe and America have to offer, a dance with a lot of Savannah boys and girls could not be considered in the light of much of a treat."
"I know it, mother. Yet Cousin Carol's manners are so perfect that she never lets you suspect that. She enters into everything with such love."
"That is her religion," said Mrs. La Grange.
"Oh, that reminds me. She went on talking aloud as we stood there. She said, 'I must remember that the vesture of truth is my raiment. I must stand sentinel at the door of my thought and not allow error to enter it. And the way to keep error out, is to pour love in. Love! Love! Love! That is the way to meet them. Father--mother--God! Help me to love mine enemies!' Oh, and mother dearest, by that time I was weeping, but Carol's eyes were quite dry. 'Don't cry, little girl,' she said, 'I don't any more, for I have got beyond the belief that religion is an emotion. It is too real--too lasting. Emotions die out.' And a little light seemed to dawn for me--just as I have seen clouds break on a dark night and a single star shine through."
"Then did you go back?" asked her mother, after a pressure of the hand to show that she understood. There was a singular bond between these two.
"Yes, she turned and pressed my hand just as you did then, with such understanding, and her face was fairly shining, but with such a different radiance. 'Come, Peachie, darling! faithful little comrade. You would not have been one of the disciples who slept and left their Master to pray alone, would you? Well, I have conquered my little moment of error. Now let's go back.' 'And show them how South Carolina faces her foes,' I said. 'Wouldn't it be better to go back and show them how South Carolina can forgive?' she asked."
"Bless her heart!" murmured Mrs. La Grange. "I know how a young girl feels to be mistreated at a ball."
"Yes, but wait. The grandest, glorious-est thing happened. Just as we came from behind the palms who should be bowing to the chaperons but the handsomest man I ever saw in my life. Tall, dark, distinguished-looking, with one white lock of hair and all the rest black as a coal. He has a slight limp from a wound at Magersfontein, but it only distinguished him the more and doesn't interfere with his dancing a bit. Well, when he saw Carolina, his face lighted up and he said, 'Oh, Miss Lee, how awfully jolly to see you again! To tell the truth, I had half a mind not to come, after all I had promised, and I wanted to get out of it the worst way until I heard that you were to be here. Then I couldn't get here fast enough.' Well, mother, even if every girl there hadn't suddenly found that side of the room strangely attractive, his voice has a carrying tone, and--well, I wish you could have seen those girls. They looked as though they had been slapped in the face."
"As they deserved!" said Mrs. La Grange, grimly.
"Then the band struck up a two-step and he turned to Mrs. Winchester and asked her if she would save her first square dance for him, but she said she wasn't dancing. So then he asked Carolina. She gave me a little look which meant that I could have him next, and then! Well, I've seen dancing all my life, but I never saw anybody dance as those two did. It was like the flight of swallows. So graceful, so dignified, so distinguished, and yet so spirited. Carolina dances like a breeze."
"I can imagine just how she dances," cried Mrs. La Grange, excitedly. "Go on, child!"
"Well, the funniest sight of all was Cousin Lois. She drew her chin in and waved her fan and puffed herself out for all the world like our turkey-hen. I could have laughed."
"I know just how she felt--just how I should have felt in her place if you had been treated as Carolina was. Then did he dance with you?"
"Yes, then he danced with me. Then with Carolina again. Then she said to him, 'Now, Sir Hubert, I want you to meet some of these pretty girls, but as I don't know them myself, I shall ask Mr. Little to take you around and introduce you to the brightest of them, so that you will take away with you the best impression of our Southern girls.'"
"Oh, Peachie! I couldn't have done that!"
"Nor I either, mother. I just couldn't. So Jim started to take him, but he said, 'Just wait a moment.' Then he came to me and took--"
"I hope he took more than one!" cried Mrs. La Grange, jealously.
"He took seven, mother. And in the German he favoured me until--"
"That was too many, Peachie. You ought not--"
"I know, dearest honey mother. I ought not to do heaps of things I do do, but after all, what do I care what those people think of me? All they can say is that I flirted with him--"
"Or that he flirted with you," laughed her mother.
"Oh, yes, they will say that, never fear. And yet--"
"And yet what, my darling? Here we are at home."
"And yet he took Cousin Lois and Carolina to Jacksonville on his yacht, and he asked me to go, but I said I had to get back to you, and he was with us all the rest of the time we were there--"
Her mother turned and looked at her.
"And he is coming to see me on his way back."
As Mrs. La Grange stepped from the carriage with the air of a queen descending from her chariot, she put her arm around her daughter's waist and said:
"I think I have to be proud of a dear, generous little girl whose loyalty caused an otherwise pleasant week to be spoiled."
Peachie's cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkled.
"It wasn't quite spoiled, mother dear. Oh, honey, he is the handsomest man and the best dancer! Just wait till you see him!"