CHAPTER XVII.THE BRONZE BABY.Somebody says that we only really live when we do not know that time is passing. If that be true, Miss Berry lived intensely during the period she passed in the gallery of the Electricity Building that afternoon."I wonder how late it is!" she asked herself at last with a start. "The folks'll think I'm lost. I must hurry home directly."But she sighed as she said it. To "hurry home" from this city of magnificent distances was but a form of words."If I could only borrow the wings off 'n some o' those angels!" she murmured as she hastened down the nearest flight of stairs; but doubtful as she was of the lateness of the hour, she could not keep her mind from straying back to the strange scenes in the miniature world she had been watching. Next the incubator had been a little sandy inclosure in the midst of which stood a small curtained house where the young chickens could be brooded at will, and across whose front ran the defiant legend, "Who cares for mother now!""I wonder how soon electricity'll take the place o' folks," she mused. "Seems if 't won't take long. Yes, yes," she went on in answer to a faint peeping that came from beneath her wrap, "we'll get home some time to-night," and she hurried faster still, a pleased smile breaking over her face; for Aunt Love was not alone. She had at the present moment one of those emancipated chicks in a pasteboard box pressed to her side."I believe I'll take the Internal Road, and then the cars," she said to herself. "There'll be an awful crowd at Sixtieth Street, but I can stand consid'able squeezin'. I know I'm late."She was late. Not that it mattered. She was to dine in solitary state that evening in any case; but she had meant to reach the house in time to carry the information of Mr. Page's arrival and his plan to meet his friends; and in this she was disappointed. Only Blitzen was left at home to give her his customary boisterous greeting, and she had before her the difficult task of explaining and introducing to him her ball of yellow fluff and impressing its sacredness upon his volatile mind.Jack was the first to arrive at the rendezvous that evening, and to his satisfaction Mildred was second. She sauntered up to the steps accompanied by a young army officer at whom Jack stared down from his post on the balcony. He had, however, sufficient self-control to swallow his discontent. Mildred had somehow taught him this self-control in the short space of a week, and he managed to walk to meet her with an air of nonchalance suited to that with which she slowly mounted the steps after dismissing her escort."Who is the military?" he asked lightly."A cousin of Helen Eames. He has been showing us over the Battle Ship.""Indeed? I was there this afternoon too.""Were you? It is awfully stuffy down below in that museum, isn't it? Our party was glad to retreat to a private room and have a sherry cobbler. Everything is beginning to be crowded now.""What interests me," said Jack, placing a chair by one of the tables for Mildred as he spoke, "is to know how soon you are going to give me a day.""Oh, any time," returned the girl as she seated herself."Any time! That is what you always say, but when I try to pin you down you slip away.""Wouldn't anybody?" smiled the other. There was something about the curves at the corners of Mildred's upper lip and its downward dip in the middle that made her smile more provoking than other girls'."There! You are slipping away again.""No, indeed. I am far too tired and this is too comfortable.""You have had an engagement every day since I have been here. You can't deny it. What sort of a way is that to treat a guest?""You aren't my guest, you are Clover's.""Clover is a daisy and always was," exclaimed Jack, regardless of paradox. "She is the sweetest girl in the world.""Of course," returned Mildred, raising a glass of water to her lips as coolly as though she liked this."I ought to have gone with you that first evening," said Van Tassel gloomily.Mildred set down her glass and looked at the speaker with an unfathomable expression as she spoke slowly:—"'There is a tide in the affairs of menWhich, taken at the flood, leads on to'"—"Would it, Mildred?" Jack broke in with a sort of earnest excitement. "Would it have led on to fortune?"The girl colored under the glowing gaze."If I had gone with you, would you have had fewer engagements and more time for me since then?""How can I tell?" she returned, with a low laugh of enjoyment. Jack was fairly dramatic. He was really entertaining."I didn't know exactly what my feeling was then; but I knew afterward," he went on. "Ogden wasn't any part of our past. I didn't want to share you with him that night.""He didn't want to share me with you either, so you were both satisfied," returned Mildred demurely."Was he satisfied?" asked Van Tassel savagely. "Methinks not. I notice that whatever your engagements have been this week, he has not been in them.""How observing you are!""Yes. He is done for. It would be interesting to know how many scalps that makes, Mildred.""Look here, Jack," the girl was not smiling, and her eyes darkened as she met his; "if you will practice conservation of energy now, I will give you a capital opportunity to air your talents in amateur theatricals next winter. You are the very man we have been looking for.""Can I make love to you?""That depends on your versatility.""Or my patience in standing in line. I've been standing in line all the week. Don't you think it is about time I got there?""What do you call this?" Mildred gave him a tantalizing glance from under her half-dropped lids. "I arrive early at the rendezvous. We sittête-à-tête, and how do you make use of the time?"Color flashed all over Jack's face."I am a fool," he agreed."That must be why you always speak the truth so indiscreetly. I never thought of that as the reason, really. Now let us decide what to order before Clover comes. What can make her so late?"The fact was that Clover, wanting to stop a minute to look at some pieces of old china and silver in the Louisiana house, had had the usual curious experience in World's Fair minutes. In a city of enchantment, how could it be expected that sixty seconds should be of the conventional length? She had set aside plenty of time also just to walk through the middle of the Art Building; and as every woman knows, it was always impossible to pass so near "The Young Athlete" without pausing, if but for a brief acknowledgment.Gorham Page had just been admiring the bronze, and had stepped aside to look at the photographs on a neighboring table when Clover advanced. He was short-sighted, and she wore an Eton suit and a sailor hat, the garb of ninety-nine out of every hundred women in the summer of '93; but he knew her at once, and paused. After a moment's watching he approached her.She colored faintly with surprise as she returned his greeting."The subtle differences in the nature of man and woman are more interesting than the obvious ones," he said."What are you leading up to now?" she asked. "I expected your first words to be an explanation or an apology, or both. How does it happen that this is the place where we first meet?""You were very, very kind, Mrs. Van Tassel, and I hope I assured you of my appreciation in my letter; but I found I could get a room at the hotel near you, and then affairs taking a favorable turn I left Boston suddenly, and none too soon; none too soon; I have been here all day. How stupendous it is! You are on your way to the Marine Café. May I go with you?""Oh, you have seen Jack, or my sister.""No.""Then how comes it that you are so well informed?""Happily for me, I ran across Aunt Love.""Oh, that explains her prolonged absence perhaps. Usually it is hard for us to persuade her to spend a whole day down here. We must hurry a little, I think." Clover laughed. "Hurrying is the normal condition of people who try to keep appointments at the Fair."They threaded their way amid groups and figures in plaster and marble, and emerged from the southern entrance."What I started to speak of when I first met you was the contrast of a man's and woman's way of approaching that bronze," said Page. "I went up to it and especially noticed the muscles and veins of the man's hand and the truthful way the fingers sink into the flesh of the baby it supports. You approached it and took hold of the baby's hand and patted his leg. Now why didn't I want to pat that little fellow's fat leg?""I give it up," laughed Clover. "I can only say you had very poor taste.""No, there is a deep reason for the difference. Of course it is a woman's nature to pet a baby.""What a deep discovery! I congratulate you on the result of your explorations. Do you think you shall write a book about it?""I amuse you, Mrs. Van Tassel.""Yes, you do, I won't deny it." Clover was a trifle ashamed of having been caught in her loving ebullition toward the soft bronze, and was willing to laugh it away."Still it is interesting," Page went on musingly, "to observe how affection is outward with women and inward with men.""That doesn't sound complimentary to us, Mr. Page. I hope you mean well."Gorham's pensive eyes met her merry ones. "Yes. I revere the wise arrangement by which it takes a man and a woman to make one complete being; and the more I observe and understand refined human nature, the more I think I see the possibilities, and what it was intended that marriage should be. You are a good walker, Mrs. Van Tassel.""Yes; I am thinking how impatient Mildred and Jack will be with me. I will give you a subject for your analytical mind. Make a record of the broken appointments at the World's Fair and discover the reasons for them. You would have a psychological study of absorbing interest.""All phases of human nature are interesting.""Even that where vials of righteous wrath are poured out upon you for delinquency when you know you haven't any defense to offer? You are my defense this time.""What do you want me to say?""Oh, I wouldn't trust you to say anything. I am morally certain that you would tell the truth.""That isn't so very damaging, is it?""Why, certainly. You would tell them that I stopped to make love to the bronze baby; and if Mildred heard that, hungry as she is by this time, you would soon have to formulate exceptions to your rule that women are all affection outwardly. By the way, what a fortunate experience yours must have been."Page smiled philosophically, and looked approvingly at his light-footed companion.They arrived at the café shortly after Mildred had directed her companion's attention to the menu, and the apparition of the unexpected guest entirely diverted from Clover any comment upon her tardiness.The cordiality of his welcome pleased Page. He could not know the reason for the nervous energy of his cousin's greeting. The four sat for an hour at table and then took their way by boat to the Court of Honor, where they remained in the launch during the playing of the fountains. Clover, sitting next Page, watched his attitude toward this first view of the evening's spectacle with some curiosity.He caught her amused gaze once as it rested upon him."Sumptuous! Delicate! Wonderful!" he said, breaking a long, absorbed silence."What?" returned Clover. "But you haven't suggested yet going down beneath the electric fountains to find out the why and the how of it all; and I am sure you will not rest until you have been on the roof of the Manufactures Building and made friends with the man who manipulates the search light.""No." Page smiled vaguely and shook his head. "I do not want to go behind the scenes.""Then the Court of Honor is a wonderful place," said Clover."Poetical! Marvelous!" gasped Page.A gondola decked with soft lanterns stole by. One gondolier swept his oar lazily through the water, the other stood with his hand caught in his bright sash, and poured forth the "Dammi encor" from "Faust" with true musical intensity.Again Clover and Page looked into one another's eyes, but there was no badinage this time in her glance. It was a place of dreams. Showers of golden mist fell beneath the stars. The massive buildings softened away into distant shadowy suggestion. The sculptors' creations shone out thrillingly.In heavenly beauty stood the Agricultural Hall with its foreground of gleaming water, the pure white of its columns defined against the tempered rose-color of its inner wall,—a vision glowing and pure; as far above its sister palaces in beauty as its use was set apart from theirs; for here were displayed the works of God rather than the imperfect marvels of man's handiwork.Amid the majestic splendor of the night rolled the passionate appeal of the gondoliers' love-song, become an impersonal voice now as the boats drifted apart. Little wonder that Page forgot to be abstractly analytical, and that the soft spontaneous sympathy of his companion's eyes exercised enchantment borrowed from the environment. He smiled upon her with a bright tenderness which transfigured his thoughtful face.For a long time they were silent, but when he gave her his hand as she stepped from the launch, he spoke out of the depths of his enjoyment:—"That was a never-to-be-forgotten experience for me.""I think no one ever forgets his first evening in the Court of Honor," returned Clover."Well, what are we going to do now?" asked Mildred, as they ascended the steps. "My! How the wind has sprung up from the lake. They will hardly dare to have the fireworks.""Then let us take a brisk constitutional home," proposed Jack."Come, children. Follow your leader," commanded Mildred, turning and addressing Clover and her companion."Hurry her by the chocolate houses, Jack," said Clover; "that is, if you can.""He can't," returned Mildred. "I have my eye on Baker's now."She insisted that they all stop and partake of the cup, more potent than tea to cheer when the east wind blows, served by the pretty, uniformed girls, who by this time in the evening were inclined to be pessimistic and severe, small blame to them. They must easily believe that the human body is largely liquid.Leaving the little circular temple, the quartette started up the lake shore on the stone walk. The dark waves were tumbling and dashing, tipped with foam in the sudden gale. The battle-ship and large excursion boats were gay with electric lights."Oh, Mrs. Van Tassel!" exclaimed Page. "See the search light on the Quadriga." They turned to view the group with its mounted heralds and champing, prancing horses, distinct and unearthly fair in the surrounding blackness."Could we walk home backward, do you think?" he asked."No," replied Clover. "I can answer with certainty, for I've tried it more than once.""I suppose we do in course of time get past the Manufactures Building? What an incomprehensible, colossal thing it is.""Yes, a good deal more so to me now than it was a month ago.""Have mercy!" exclaimed Page with a groan.Mildred and Jack were walking in front of them."Isn't this like old times, Mildred?" asked the latter with a relish, clapping his hat on tighter as the sweep of the wind threatened it."Just about as unlike as we could imagine. Sorry to disagree with you, Jack.""Don't mention it. You don't disagree with me, my child. I have enjoyed this first evening with you immensely.""First evening is pretty good, isn't it?" suggested the girl, and they both laughed. "You didn't use to quarrel for my society," she added."I want you to understand that I wasn't quarreling with you there, a few hours back, at the Marine Café.""Oh!""No, I was merely making the excusable protest of an old friend,—speaking in a brotherly way, you know.""Oh, it won't do, Jack." He knew exactly how she was smiling in the darkness. "It is my unalterable rule never to be a sister to any of them. I can't break over it for you.""Them!" ejaculated her companion. "I don't thank you to class me with Tom, Dick, and Harry, and the rest of these late arrivals. Remember, I was the first-comer into your friendship.""You were a pretty good sort of fellow.""Yes; you probably can't conceive of what a healing thought it is to me now that I have snubbed you many a time, young lady. I had to. Your attentions were so persistent in those days. Yes, mademoiselle, I had to hold you off, or I should never have had any peace of my life. I remember it well. Perhaps you don't.""Oh yes, I do, perfectly," sighed Mildred. "Wasn't the Flirt the stanchest little dear that ever spread a sail; and to think that is all over! I don't feel nearly so much elation over going with Mr. Eames on that yacht party to-morrow as I used to in nagging you into consent that I should sail the Flirt.""Is that the infantry officer?""Yes; and he is very nice. I should like you to meet him. If I knew him a little better I would have procured you an invitation. You should remember that virtue is its own reward. If you had not preferred smoking in the hammock to coming into the parlor and making yourself agreeable the other evening when Helen Eames and her mother were calling, they would surely have asked you to join the party. 'If you would be loved, be lovely.' That is what my mother used to tell me." Mildred laughed to herself."Then why don't you obey her?" returned Jack curtly."I don't want to be loved," returned the spoiled girl. "I'm loved too much already."After this they marched in silence for a time, their springy steps carrying them by the foreign buildings, Ceylon, France with its green, fountain-sprayed court, Spain, and Germany. It was not until they turned beside Iowa's pavilion and left behind them the waves dashing on the sea-wall that Mildred spoke again."It gives me the blues, Jack, every time I see our boathouse stranded high and dry behind that nightmare of a Spectatorium.""I don't see how you can call anything dry that is as full of beer as that is.""Oh," exclaimed the girl indignantly, "what a fall from its old estate! To think of our playhouse being turned into a saloon! Do you remember the dance it was christened with? I was allowed to go, and you made me perfectly happy by waltzing with me once.""Humph!" returned the other. "And now it is a great question whether you would make me perfectly happy by waltzing with me once.""Oh, Jack," Mildred laughed out now, "don't be cross. Don't grudge a girl her 'little brief authority.' My observation of life has taught me that her queenship is brief enough. She blossoms out of awkward childhood into an attractive womanhood, and then after a little space yields up her sweet liberty to some lord of creation whom she has to pacify and wait on ever afterward. Moral: Let her keep her authority as long as possible.""You seem to have been rather unfortunate in your married masculine acquaintance," returned Van Tassel drily.A sudden thought sent the color flying to Mildred's face, and her customary complacent poise was shaken."There was one exception," she said, so timidly and meekly that her companion was struck by the change; but she had not the courage to be more specific, and there was no need. Jack understood her.When the four reached home they found Miss Berry in the sitting-room reading by the light of a lamp.Blitzen was sitting on a rug, and did not, as usual, run to meet them. On a chair reposed a bird-cage with some white stuff in it."What is this, Aunt Love?" asked Clover. "Have you some new pets?""I've got one," returned Miss Berry, smiling placidly. "I'll give you all three guesses. It's a World's Fair souvenir.""Tell us, Blitzen," said Mildred, kneeling on the rug beside the small dog and shaking his tousled head; but Blitzen, as soon as he could free himself, withdrew in unwonted dignity. Evidently there was that within him to-night which could not brook flippancy."A live souvenir?" asked Clover, perplexed."Mr. Gorham can guess," remarked Miss Lovina, glancing again down the columns of her newspaper, and shaking in a comfortable silent laugh."I?" said Page; then, after a moment's cogitation, "You surely didn't bring home one of those chickens?""I did. In that cage, my dears, there is an electric chicken." Miss Berry looked over her spectacles impressively. "The same power that runs the inter-internal railroad and shines in the rainbow fountains, don't disdain to hatch a chicken. If you doubt it, there's the chicken."She gestured toward the bird-cage."I brought it home in a box; and I said to myself that most everybody had an old cage, so I went up garret, and there I found that one. On Blitzen's account I thought best to use a cage to-night." Her gaze descended on the terrier, whose head descended beneath it."Blitzen," asked Jack with deliberate, stern solemnity, "what do you think of the chicken?"Blitzen rose with a crushed air, and slowly, as one who would not attract attention, crept across the room and retired under a remote sofa.A shout of laughter followed his unostentatious disappearance."We've had some words," explained Aunt Love. "He barked cruel at the poor little thing when he first saw me with it.""Have it out, have the chicken out," said Mildred; and Miss Berry, yielding to the general urgency, produced her prize from the depths of the cotton wool. It began to struggle and peep vigorously as soon as its beady eyes saw the light, and there came a muffled howl from under the sofa."What are you going to name it?" asked Clover."I don't know what name would be good enough for such a smart critter.""Why, Electra, of course," remarked Jack. "Nothing less for such a star among chickens.""Sounds well and suitable," observed Miss Berry placidly, "whether it means anything or not.""I wonder if it has any unusual springs," said Mildred. "If I should touch the button do you suppose it would give us a rest?" She advanced a finger toward one of the bright eyes, but Miss Berry removed her squeaking prize from harm, and tucked it away again in the cotton from which it struggled several times before finally settling down with a diminuendo of peeps.CHAPTER XVIII.CLOVER'S DIPLOMACY.Mr. and Mrs. Page arrived duly, even a little earlier than they had at first anticipated. Jack met them at the station and drove with them to their destination."You see it was simply impossible, Mrs. Van Tassel, for my wife to curb her impatience after Gorham began to write home," said Mr. Page to his hostess in explanation of their change of plan. "Gorham doesn't very often gush, as perhaps you know.""And I assure you that Mr. Page was not difficult to persuade," added Hilda. "Your last kind letter determined us. And I am really in Chicago!" she went on, looking about her. "Jack, congratulate me!""I do, sincerely. I think you, Hilda, will appreciate your advantages."Mr. Page gave his contagious, quiet chuckle. "That is the way he goes on," he said, turning to Mildred. "Jack is very severe on me always. I am going to show you, Miss Bryant, several lists of adjectives, carefully prepared, very carefully and thoughtfully, one for every day in the week, that I am intending to use on the World's Fair to mollify my cousin.""You might have trusted safely to the inspiration of the moment," returned Mildred gayly."Oh, you don't know Jack. One single false move, one expletive out of place, and it would be all over with me.""Poor Robert, I feel for you," remarked Van Tassel."Why, that is mysterious," replied his cousin. "Anybody who compassionates me just now doesn't understand economizing his emotions." The speaker sank back in his roomy wicker chair and took a glass of lemonade from a salver which Miss Berry was passing to the company. The crushed ice jingled pleasantly against the crystal, and the couple of straws that emerged from each glass were alluring to a stout and thirsty man. "Aunt Love, it is very pleasant to see you here," he added. "We shall have to renew our old acquaintance. We had no time in Boston.""That's so, Mr. Page. I guess I can jog your memory about a good many things."When later the husband and wife were shown to their own room and the door was closed, Robert looked at Hilda with large eyes. "Whew!" he said softly. "Uncle Richard was all right. What pretty women!""I told you so. I told you that Mildred was a perfect Juno, and that you were very unfortunate to be out of town when she spent that week with me at the beach. As for Mrs. Van Tassel"—"Why, she's an angel,—she's an angel! I knew it from her letter. I felt it in my bones.""As if you knew anything about your bones, you dear old cushion. Stop praising those girls,—calling one a goddess and one an angel. Come and apostrophize the lake. Isn't it beautiful?""It was you who called Miss Bryant a goddess, remember. Yes, this is every bit as good as the ocean, for all I see," walking to the window and putting an arm around his wife's waist. "We are in great luck, Hilda," continued Page, glancing about their spacious room. "This isn't much like the discomforts we read about in connection with World's Fair visiting. I don't wonder," he added after a pause, "that Jack was cut up by being at cross purposes with those girls.""H'm. There is one exhibit I have come out here to see that isn't inside the White City," returned Hilda. "I've come to discover which one of them Jack is in love with.""Both, of course. How can he help it?" replied her husband promptly.Gorham took it upon himself to launch his brother and sister on their Fair pilgrimage that very evening.When they came home again, hours later, Clover and Jack were sitting alone in the parlor and rose to meet them as they entered the room. Their tired, excited faces were a study.Hilda dropped into a chair. "Well," she exclaimed, "I never expected to go to heaven till I died; but I've been there.""Jack," added Robert meekly, "get in your fine work now. I've nothing to say, absolutely nothing. I've dropped my jaw so often since six o'clock that it isn't in working order, any way.""Say no more," returned Van Tassel, waving his hand grandiloquently. "We Chicagoans are nothing if not magnanimous.""I thought I knew what I was going to see, that is the queer part of it," said Page, looking perplexed; "but it seems I didn't know anything at all about it. I feel there is an unlimited feast in store for me, Mrs. Van Tassel."Clover smiled at his enthusiastic tone. "You are in the first-day frame of mind, I see.""What is that?""Oh, eagerness and hopefulness.""And what is the second?""Despair; yes, overwhelming, stony despair.""What is the third? Suicidal tendency?""No indeed. Resignation. At first one expects and determines to see everything; soon finds that to be so impossible that he yields to his bewilderment, and at last accepts the inevitable and sets himself to see what he can, and be rapturously content therewith.""Thank you, thank you! Forewarned, forearmed. Perhaps we may even skip the second stage."A few days later, Clover, her guests having scattered on various quests, went to the noon orchestral concert in Festival Hall. This wonderfully generous free exhibit attracted a large audience, many of whom embraced it as an opportunity to rest from the fatigues of sight-seeing, while many others, coming perhaps from the country where "hearing a band" was a rare privilege, were drawn thither by the hope of attractive music.Possibly one half the number came intelligently to the feast, and greeted the conductor when he entered upon the stage. Clover joined in the applause as Theodore Thomas passed before his players with that quiet, characteristic grace, which has power to thrill with anticipation a greater number of America's music-lovers than the movement of any other man.It interested her as it had many a time before, this summer, to note the effect upon certain of the audience of the number with which the programme opened. She saw pleased hopefulness give way to apathy in many faces, as strange harmonies and dissonances fell upon uncultivated ears. She noticed one patient-faced countryman who waited through two numbers, evidently discovering nothing but a wilderness of sound. He then examined his programme, and not finding "After the Ball" on it, arose and departed from the hall more in sorrow than anger.Blessings on the man, by the way, who introduced the noiseless paper on which those programmes were printed. There were two girls sitting next to Clover, chewing gum while they listened for some melody they could recognize, and Clover congratulated herself that all the foldings and drummings of their programmes were inaudible; but alas, as soon as the maidens discovered that the music they were hearing was unworthy the name, they cheerfully set about doing the next best thing, which was to prepare for the afternoon's campaign. This was a free concert anyway, so no matter if it wasn't worth much. They would not leave at once, because this was a better place to rest than they would be likely to find soon again; so they unfolded their maps of the grounds, not printed on absorbent paper, far from it, and proceeded to discuss their plans.Clover caught sight of Jack standing across the hall. He discovered her at the same moment. His concentrated look flashed into a smile as they exchanged nods.At the close of the number he came around to where Clover sat in the front row of the circle, and leaned his arm on the railing in front of her."How handsome Jack can look, when he is happy and interested," she thought, and instantly became aware that her neighbors had ceased their planning, and were nudging each other in silent absorption."Wasn't that great!" he exclaimed. "Are you going over to the Music Hall this afternoon?""Indeed I am. They are going to play the Tschaikowsky Symphony.""That settles it. Suppose we go up in the wheel after lunch, and then go over to the concert together.""All right. I'd like to. Why, there is Mildred on the left, down there near the front. I didn't know she was coming.""Nor I. Shall I go and speak to her?"In a minute Jack was back, just as the music began again. The girls who had constituted the thorn in Clover's side during the first half of the programme had left their seats as soon as he moved away, so he came in and took the place beside Clover."Mildred says she will go with us," he whispered.When the Intermezzo was finished, Clover spoke."Did you ask Mildred to join us?" she asked."No, she proposed it," returned Jack, and there was a pleasure in his eyes which did not escape his companion."You mentioned last night in our talk that you hadn't seen much of Mildred since you came; that she was too much of a belle for your comfort.""Yes. It is simply surprising to find her here alone."Clover's eyes twinkled. She had mentioned to her sister, this morning, that she meant to meet Jack at the noon concert."Well, you leave her to me. No matter what I say, don't contradict me. Promise?""What's up?" asked Van Tassel doubtfully."Oh, Mildred's conceit and a few other things that ought to come down. I want you to myself a part of the time, Jack."Her companion met her laughing glance."I am yours to command, Clover, always.""Don't forget, then," she answered.When the concert was over, Mildred came slowly up the aisle, superb as usual in her consciously unconscious carriage."Well," she said to her sister as they met, "where are we to lunch?""Are you going to lunch with us?" asked Clover in well-affected surprise."Of course I am," returned the younger with a half-pouting smile flung at Jack; "and I am going in the Ferris Wheel with you too. I haven't been up in it yet.""Why, I don't see how you possibly can, Mildred," said Clover coolly. "I heard you promise Mr. and Mrs. Page to meet them in the Art Gallery at two o'clock, and show Mrs. Page some of our favorite pictures."Mildred expected some protest from Jack, and was disconcerted that none came. "I only told them that if I was at the south entrance at two o'clock I would act as their cicerone," she answered."Well, my dear, having said so much," suggested Clover gravely, "I think the least you can do is to be there, considering that they are our guests."Still Jack did not interfere. Mildred could not forbear hurling one glance at him from beneath her eyelashes, but it might have been a gaze. Van Tassel was absently viewing the dispersing audience.Her eyes and cheeks burned as they had on the night he refused to accompany her to witness the fireworks, but as on that occasion she carried the matter with a high hand."Very well, then you have lost my company at lunch, too. You and Jack would be sure to make me late, dawdling at table.Au revoir," and as they nodded to her, she swept away.Clover looked at her companion and tried to repress the mirthful laugh that bubbled over her lips."Jack, you wouldn't be human if you hadn't enjoyed that.""Then I must be inhuman," he responded rather ruefully, "for I give you my word I'm scared almost to death.""Don't you worry, mon ami; I know Mildred to the depths of her noble, generous, overbearing, over-indulged soul.""I don't suppose you realize, Clover," Van Tassel spoke low and jerkily, "but I care very much; absurdly much, you might think, considering the shortness of the time."Clover looked into his flushed face, and the merriment in her sweet eyes was quenched."Dear Jack," she said, laying her hand lightly on his arm, "whatever you wish, I wish. Trust me. No harm has been done. Do you want my advice,—the advice of one who knows?""Yes, I do.""Then don't let Mildred suspect what you have told me. The round world is just a rattle to her now. You are one of the bells on it that jingle for her amusement when she moves you. There are Katherines in existence still, and Petruchios are wholesome teachers for them.""Imagine me cracking a horsewhip at Mildred!""Out, please!" roared a Columbian Guard, exasperated by the sight of these two loiterers, after the remainder of the audience had drifted away. "As if there wasn't any other place on the grounds to spoon but just this," he muttered.Mildred, to her credit be it said, devoted her afternoon to Mrs. Page with as cheerful courtesy as though she bore no grudge in her mind against the world. Mr. Page left them together and went off somewhere under his brother's guidance. It was nearly dinner-time when he drove up to the house in a Beach wagon, and found Mildred swinging idly in a hammock on the piazza."Your wife is taking a nap," she announced, as he came up the steps."Fortunate woman!" he responded, sinking wearily upon a wicker divan. "The only interest I've had for hours in any exhibit was as to whether there was a chair in it; but Gorham is a terrible fellow. Merciless. Each building being one thousand miles from every other building makes it hard lines. I threatened more than once to trip over one of those chains that say 'Keep off the grass,' and refuse to get up again.""You and your brother should have taken one of those double chairs.""Oh, there wouldn't have been any room for Gorham," and the jolly man laughed. "I suppose you have done the Plaisance.""Partly, yes.""Gorham and I went into the Dahomey village, this afternoon. Some of those savages were unpleasantly personal. Good afternoon, Aunt Love," as the housekeeper appeared on the veranda. "I was just telling Miss Mildred how those children of nature in the Dahomey village injured my finer feelings to-day. One of them came for me with a big carving knife, yelling 'Big man, fat man,' and going through the pantomime of taking a slice off my sacred person.""Dirty critters!" remarked Miss Berry sententiously."Isn't it a funny paradox to see an incandescent light over the door of each hut?" went on Page. "There was one big fellow squatted down in the sun, off by himself, playing on a rough sort of a harp, and singing monotonously something that sounded like 'Come away, come away, Chicago.' I tried to write down the pitches he sang, and that amused him immensely. His ivories would have made a perfect dentist's sign. I gave him a dime or so to repeat the performance, a sufficient number of times, and he was delighted, and kept saying 'Chicago beer.'""Yes," returned Miss Berry bitterly. "They have to come to a Christian land for that.""Wait till you see the South Sea Islanders," said Mildred."We did. Fine, aren't they? There is an exhibition of drill and muscle worth seeing.""And thatcafé-au-laitskin!" exclaimed Mildred. "I am entirely spoiled for white beauties.""Let 'em wear somethin' more 'n a straw wreath and a piece o' calico then," remarked Miss Berry."But Aunt Love," suggested Page, "you must remember how clothing that brown skin is. I am sure you must admit it is an improving sight to see one of those heavy-eyed beauties sit cross-legged, and absently scratch one great toe while she sings.""What are you all laughing about?" asked Hilda, coming out upon the piazza in the freshness of a light organdie gown."Your husband has been to the Midway," returned Miss Berry. "Don't be surprised at anything he may say or do; and I don't believe we'd better wait for Mr. and Mrs. Van Tassel any longer, for dinner was ready when I came out here.""I don't understand Clover's staying so," remarked Mildred, leaving the hammock and trying not to speak severely."I go, I fly, to make myself presentable," said Page, slowly dragging himself up from his comfortable resting-place.After dinner Mildred made an opportunity to address the housekeeper privately. "For pity's sake, Aunt Love, when you are going to speak of Jack and Clover as you did this evening, don't say Mr. and Mrs. Van Tassel.""Why not?" asked Miss Lovina with exasperating unconsciousness."Why, it sounds so—so—absurdly married."Miss Berry smiled. "What shall I say then?""Mrs. and Mr. Van Tassel, of course," replied Mildred, making an effort to speak with a suavity she did not feel."Well, if that ain't a new idea. Mrs. and Mr.! Do tell!" said Miss Berry good-naturedly. "Oh, I'll learn a deal of etiquette to take back to Pearfield. It's enough to do a body good to see Mr. Jack and your sister so much to each other, ain't it? Seems if they have lots o' pleasure together now; just as it should be.""I don't know that they are together so very much," returned Mildred coolly."That's 'cause you're off so much o' the time. Why, they're just the best friends that ever was; and Mrs. Van Tassel, she's gone back before my eyes from a grave woman full or care to a merry girl just as free as a bird. It does me good, Miss Mildred. It does me so much good, I'm 'most afraid I shall grow fat on it."Mildred's bright eyes looked thoughtful for a second, as though she were digesting the housekeeper's words. "There is Blitzen, barking," she exclaimed, and both hastened to see whether Electra's nervous system was receiving some fresh shock.Gorham Page strayed over from the hotel, as was his habit after dinner, and found the family disposed in various comfortable chairs and hammocks about the piazza.The autocratic Miss Bryant was feeling a trifle sore, although she did not dream of acknowledging to herself that it was because Clover and Jack still remained away, and in the present sensitive state of her self-love it was a new affront that Gorham did not at once seek her side, but after bowing to her, settled down beside Mrs. Page, who closed the book she was reading upon her finger as a marker."Yes indeed, the afternoon was delightful," she said, in answer to his question. "Mildred and I had a charming time among the pictures. You nearly committed fratricide. Do you see poor Robert fast asleep over there?""This will do him a world of good. Train down his flesh, and strengthen his muscle; though the poor old chap did say, before we decided to come home, that he had walked so long his feet splayed out like the camels' every time he set them down." Page laughed reminiscently."Camels? Did you go into Cairo Street?""No, to the Bedouin village; the Wild East show.""Very well. You have just saved your lives. I understand that Cairo Street is one of the plums of the Plaisance, and if Robert had gone without me, I should have been highly offended.""Yes, he is well trained. I wonder if my wife will find me as thoughtful. I am afraid not."Hilda laughed at the sincere meekness of his tone. "No, I'm sure she won't, for the simple reason that you will never have one.""I should be sorry to think that.""Then why don't you do as nine out of every ten men in your place would do?""You mean fall in love? You know, Hilda, how often I've done that."Mrs. Page laughed again at the gently remonstrant tone. "Your sort of falling in love isn't worth two straws," she declared scoffingly. "Don't take that into consideration at all. The next woman you meet who satisfies you intellectually, propose to her. If she accepts you, marry her. I don't believe you would make her very unhappy. You wouldn't if you were as kind a husband as you are a brother.""Thank you. You might give me a written recommendation. See how handsome Miss Bryant's face looks against that golden pillow.""Yes; it is a proof of your hard heart that you withstand her.""I don't withstand her. You have no idea how much I enjoyed an afternoon I had with her at the Fair last week; but Jack was remarkably short with me that evening, and I fancied I had trespassed on his preserves.""Not a bit of it. He must be a dog in the manger.""Why, I'm very sure he is hard hit in that direction.""Oh, where are a man's eyes, I wonder! I haven't been here very long, but long enough to discover the truth.""I suppose you want me to ask you what truth?""No, I don't, my dear." Mrs. Page reopened her book."You are not hinting at—at—Mrs. Van Tassel?" Gorham spoke in a hushed tone."Just observe for yourself," said Hilda sententiously."You ought not to have such a thought."Mrs. Page looked up, wondering at this severity. "Why, if you please? You surely haven't an idea that that young creature is going to sacrifice the rest of her life to a memory of duty done?""But Hilda, that is repugnant!" Page rose suddenly, and his sister's gaze followed him as he moved away. It was very unusual for him to show so much feeling. "Wouldn't it be a strange, strange thing if after waiting all these years Gorham should love at last and love hopelessly?" She banished the query with a sigh. Sober second thought assured her that her brother had not meant more than he said. The idea that Jack might wish to marry his father's widow was distasteful to him, and that was all.Page approached Mildred, little realizing how indefensible she considered it that he had not done so some minutes previous. She was too glad of his presence, however, to punish him. It would never do for Jack to come home and suppose that she had not been holding court."What beautiful evenings you have in Chicago," he began. "May I take this chair?" drawing one near the hammock in which she was sitting against a nest of pillows, her foot touching the floor gently as she rocked."Yes, I never tire of seeing the moonlight on the water as it is shining to-night. When I was a little girl it was a great treat to me to be allowed to spend a summer evening on this piazza, and I enjoy it scarcely less now.""You enjoy it very seldom, I observe.""Yes, of course there are lots of engagements this summer, and a quiet evening at home like this seems very welcome occasionally. One likes too, sometimes, to renew acquaintance with the moon. After living among rosy, violet, pale green, and white search lights, and all sorts of spectacular electrical effects so much, one comes back to moonlight on the water as to an old friend."The girl clasped her hands above her head upon the down pillow, and allowed Page to look at her, which he was not slow to do."I miss your sister and Jack, this evening. Where are they?""Columbus knows! Since the authorities have been Barnumizing the Fair, as they call it, one is led on to stay, and stay, and stay, to see this race or that dance or the other illumination. I left them after the noon concert.""You were there, then. Of course you are fond of music.""I enjoy it very much, although Clover says I don't. She and Jack are cranks about it. I am not.""They have one strong predilection in common, then."Mildred did not reply; and Page continued: "The effect of music upon a person who is in sympathy with it is an interesting study. Those involuntary chills that pass over one under the moving influence of good music are rather annoying to me. I do not wish to be moved uncontrollably by anything. I wish to decide just how deeply to feel on any subject. Do you know what I mean?""Yes, exactly." The decision of the girl's reply rather surprised her companion. She let him look deep into her luminous eyes set in the moonlight fairness of her face. "And further than agreeing with you in the desirability of the principle," she added, "I carry the theory into practice.""Do you mean to say that you are always able to let your head decide what your heart shall feel?""Invariably.""But that is no common characteristic in a woman. With women the heart speaks first usually.""Not in the case of the well-balanced woman.""Then perhaps you can tell me," said Page, much surprised and interested, "perhaps you will be good enough to tell me what your ideas are concerning love. There, too, do you think it possible for the head to speak first?"Mildred let a repressed laugh burst its bounds. "Do you mean, do I think it possible to fall in love head first?""Forgive me if I ask too much; but it seems to me very helpful to compare notes with one whose aims and desires are similar to your own.""Oh, I don't mind telling you, Mr. Page," said the girl, sobering. "My ideas on the subject are clearly formulated, and I know of no reason why I should not impart them to one who will be appreciative. I believe a woman can decide what characteristics would be sympathetic with hers, and when she is sufficiently acquainted with a man to discover if he is possessed of those qualities, she can give rein to her heart, and love him"—the speaker suddenly extended her white hands before her—"love him with all her soul!"The sudden thrill in her movement and in her low contralto voice electrified her listener by its unexpectedness."But can one always love where the head dictates?" he asked; "that is the question.""Undoubtedly; for when one finds the combination she seeks, she will discover that she has loved it already. I will tell you, Mr. Page, you tempt my confidence because you captivate my judgment. I will describe to you the man I await. He must be good to look upon, for I value beauty of form; but he must be cool and steady of brain, must love to think, to analyze, to look upon life not as a plaything but as something the laws of which must be studied and explored continually. Incidents which appear trifling to others, to him will suggest a thousand questions. He must in short be a student of human nature whose researches I may, by-and-by, as I grow wiser, assist. Oh, proud, happy destiny!" She paused as though overcome, and grasping the sides of the hammock looked with a quick turn of her head toward the moonlight.Page regarded her in silence, then leaned toward her in his earnestness. "A man like that is not found every day, Miss Bryant; but I congratulate you on your high standard; for the being you describe has surely a great heart to throb for humanity as well as the head to study it, and your affections will not be starved, I am sure of that."Mildred grasped the hammock closer and caught her lip between her teeth. Page's unconsciousness had turned the tables, and she had sufficient sense of humor, in spite of her vanity, to make it difficult not to smile as he walked unseeing around her net, and it fell, enveloping her own saucy head.
CHAPTER XVII.
THE BRONZE BABY.
Somebody says that we only really live when we do not know that time is passing. If that be true, Miss Berry lived intensely during the period she passed in the gallery of the Electricity Building that afternoon.
"I wonder how late it is!" she asked herself at last with a start. "The folks'll think I'm lost. I must hurry home directly."
But she sighed as she said it. To "hurry home" from this city of magnificent distances was but a form of words.
"If I could only borrow the wings off 'n some o' those angels!" she murmured as she hastened down the nearest flight of stairs; but doubtful as she was of the lateness of the hour, she could not keep her mind from straying back to the strange scenes in the miniature world she had been watching. Next the incubator had been a little sandy inclosure in the midst of which stood a small curtained house where the young chickens could be brooded at will, and across whose front ran the defiant legend, "Who cares for mother now!"
"I wonder how soon electricity'll take the place o' folks," she mused. "Seems if 't won't take long. Yes, yes," she went on in answer to a faint peeping that came from beneath her wrap, "we'll get home some time to-night," and she hurried faster still, a pleased smile breaking over her face; for Aunt Love was not alone. She had at the present moment one of those emancipated chicks in a pasteboard box pressed to her side.
"I believe I'll take the Internal Road, and then the cars," she said to herself. "There'll be an awful crowd at Sixtieth Street, but I can stand consid'able squeezin'. I know I'm late."
She was late. Not that it mattered. She was to dine in solitary state that evening in any case; but she had meant to reach the house in time to carry the information of Mr. Page's arrival and his plan to meet his friends; and in this she was disappointed. Only Blitzen was left at home to give her his customary boisterous greeting, and she had before her the difficult task of explaining and introducing to him her ball of yellow fluff and impressing its sacredness upon his volatile mind.
Jack was the first to arrive at the rendezvous that evening, and to his satisfaction Mildred was second. She sauntered up to the steps accompanied by a young army officer at whom Jack stared down from his post on the balcony. He had, however, sufficient self-control to swallow his discontent. Mildred had somehow taught him this self-control in the short space of a week, and he managed to walk to meet her with an air of nonchalance suited to that with which she slowly mounted the steps after dismissing her escort.
"Who is the military?" he asked lightly.
"A cousin of Helen Eames. He has been showing us over the Battle Ship."
"Indeed? I was there this afternoon too."
"Were you? It is awfully stuffy down below in that museum, isn't it? Our party was glad to retreat to a private room and have a sherry cobbler. Everything is beginning to be crowded now."
"What interests me," said Jack, placing a chair by one of the tables for Mildred as he spoke, "is to know how soon you are going to give me a day."
"Oh, any time," returned the girl as she seated herself.
"Any time! That is what you always say, but when I try to pin you down you slip away."
"Wouldn't anybody?" smiled the other. There was something about the curves at the corners of Mildred's upper lip and its downward dip in the middle that made her smile more provoking than other girls'.
"There! You are slipping away again."
"No, indeed. I am far too tired and this is too comfortable."
"You have had an engagement every day since I have been here. You can't deny it. What sort of a way is that to treat a guest?"
"You aren't my guest, you are Clover's."
"Clover is a daisy and always was," exclaimed Jack, regardless of paradox. "She is the sweetest girl in the world."
"Of course," returned Mildred, raising a glass of water to her lips as coolly as though she liked this.
"I ought to have gone with you that first evening," said Van Tassel gloomily.
Mildred set down her glass and looked at the speaker with an unfathomable expression as she spoke slowly:—
"'There is a tide in the affairs of menWhich, taken at the flood, leads on to'"—
"'There is a tide in the affairs of menWhich, taken at the flood, leads on to'"—
"'There is a tide in the affairs of men
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to'"—
"Would it, Mildred?" Jack broke in with a sort of earnest excitement. "Would it have led on to fortune?"
The girl colored under the glowing gaze.
"If I had gone with you, would you have had fewer engagements and more time for me since then?"
"How can I tell?" she returned, with a low laugh of enjoyment. Jack was fairly dramatic. He was really entertaining.
"I didn't know exactly what my feeling was then; but I knew afterward," he went on. "Ogden wasn't any part of our past. I didn't want to share you with him that night."
"He didn't want to share me with you either, so you were both satisfied," returned Mildred demurely.
"Was he satisfied?" asked Van Tassel savagely. "Methinks not. I notice that whatever your engagements have been this week, he has not been in them."
"How observing you are!"
"Yes. He is done for. It would be interesting to know how many scalps that makes, Mildred."
"Look here, Jack," the girl was not smiling, and her eyes darkened as she met his; "if you will practice conservation of energy now, I will give you a capital opportunity to air your talents in amateur theatricals next winter. You are the very man we have been looking for."
"Can I make love to you?"
"That depends on your versatility."
"Or my patience in standing in line. I've been standing in line all the week. Don't you think it is about time I got there?"
"What do you call this?" Mildred gave him a tantalizing glance from under her half-dropped lids. "I arrive early at the rendezvous. We sittête-à-tête, and how do you make use of the time?"
Color flashed all over Jack's face.
"I am a fool," he agreed.
"That must be why you always speak the truth so indiscreetly. I never thought of that as the reason, really. Now let us decide what to order before Clover comes. What can make her so late?"
The fact was that Clover, wanting to stop a minute to look at some pieces of old china and silver in the Louisiana house, had had the usual curious experience in World's Fair minutes. In a city of enchantment, how could it be expected that sixty seconds should be of the conventional length? She had set aside plenty of time also just to walk through the middle of the Art Building; and as every woman knows, it was always impossible to pass so near "The Young Athlete" without pausing, if but for a brief acknowledgment.
Gorham Page had just been admiring the bronze, and had stepped aside to look at the photographs on a neighboring table when Clover advanced. He was short-sighted, and she wore an Eton suit and a sailor hat, the garb of ninety-nine out of every hundred women in the summer of '93; but he knew her at once, and paused. After a moment's watching he approached her.
She colored faintly with surprise as she returned his greeting.
"The subtle differences in the nature of man and woman are more interesting than the obvious ones," he said.
"What are you leading up to now?" she asked. "I expected your first words to be an explanation or an apology, or both. How does it happen that this is the place where we first meet?"
"You were very, very kind, Mrs. Van Tassel, and I hope I assured you of my appreciation in my letter; but I found I could get a room at the hotel near you, and then affairs taking a favorable turn I left Boston suddenly, and none too soon; none too soon; I have been here all day. How stupendous it is! You are on your way to the Marine Café. May I go with you?"
"Oh, you have seen Jack, or my sister."
"No."
"Then how comes it that you are so well informed?"
"Happily for me, I ran across Aunt Love."
"Oh, that explains her prolonged absence perhaps. Usually it is hard for us to persuade her to spend a whole day down here. We must hurry a little, I think." Clover laughed. "Hurrying is the normal condition of people who try to keep appointments at the Fair."
They threaded their way amid groups and figures in plaster and marble, and emerged from the southern entrance.
"What I started to speak of when I first met you was the contrast of a man's and woman's way of approaching that bronze," said Page. "I went up to it and especially noticed the muscles and veins of the man's hand and the truthful way the fingers sink into the flesh of the baby it supports. You approached it and took hold of the baby's hand and patted his leg. Now why didn't I want to pat that little fellow's fat leg?"
"I give it up," laughed Clover. "I can only say you had very poor taste."
"No, there is a deep reason for the difference. Of course it is a woman's nature to pet a baby."
"What a deep discovery! I congratulate you on the result of your explorations. Do you think you shall write a book about it?"
"I amuse you, Mrs. Van Tassel."
"Yes, you do, I won't deny it." Clover was a trifle ashamed of having been caught in her loving ebullition toward the soft bronze, and was willing to laugh it away.
"Still it is interesting," Page went on musingly, "to observe how affection is outward with women and inward with men."
"That doesn't sound complimentary to us, Mr. Page. I hope you mean well."
Gorham's pensive eyes met her merry ones. "Yes. I revere the wise arrangement by which it takes a man and a woman to make one complete being; and the more I observe and understand refined human nature, the more I think I see the possibilities, and what it was intended that marriage should be. You are a good walker, Mrs. Van Tassel."
"Yes; I am thinking how impatient Mildred and Jack will be with me. I will give you a subject for your analytical mind. Make a record of the broken appointments at the World's Fair and discover the reasons for them. You would have a psychological study of absorbing interest."
"All phases of human nature are interesting."
"Even that where vials of righteous wrath are poured out upon you for delinquency when you know you haven't any defense to offer? You are my defense this time."
"What do you want me to say?"
"Oh, I wouldn't trust you to say anything. I am morally certain that you would tell the truth."
"That isn't so very damaging, is it?"
"Why, certainly. You would tell them that I stopped to make love to the bronze baby; and if Mildred heard that, hungry as she is by this time, you would soon have to formulate exceptions to your rule that women are all affection outwardly. By the way, what a fortunate experience yours must have been."
Page smiled philosophically, and looked approvingly at his light-footed companion.
They arrived at the café shortly after Mildred had directed her companion's attention to the menu, and the apparition of the unexpected guest entirely diverted from Clover any comment upon her tardiness.
The cordiality of his welcome pleased Page. He could not know the reason for the nervous energy of his cousin's greeting. The four sat for an hour at table and then took their way by boat to the Court of Honor, where they remained in the launch during the playing of the fountains. Clover, sitting next Page, watched his attitude toward this first view of the evening's spectacle with some curiosity.
He caught her amused gaze once as it rested upon him.
"Sumptuous! Delicate! Wonderful!" he said, breaking a long, absorbed silence.
"What?" returned Clover. "But you haven't suggested yet going down beneath the electric fountains to find out the why and the how of it all; and I am sure you will not rest until you have been on the roof of the Manufactures Building and made friends with the man who manipulates the search light."
"No." Page smiled vaguely and shook his head. "I do not want to go behind the scenes."
"Then the Court of Honor is a wonderful place," said Clover.
"Poetical! Marvelous!" gasped Page.
A gondola decked with soft lanterns stole by. One gondolier swept his oar lazily through the water, the other stood with his hand caught in his bright sash, and poured forth the "Dammi encor" from "Faust" with true musical intensity.
Again Clover and Page looked into one another's eyes, but there was no badinage this time in her glance. It was a place of dreams. Showers of golden mist fell beneath the stars. The massive buildings softened away into distant shadowy suggestion. The sculptors' creations shone out thrillingly.
In heavenly beauty stood the Agricultural Hall with its foreground of gleaming water, the pure white of its columns defined against the tempered rose-color of its inner wall,—a vision glowing and pure; as far above its sister palaces in beauty as its use was set apart from theirs; for here were displayed the works of God rather than the imperfect marvels of man's handiwork.
Amid the majestic splendor of the night rolled the passionate appeal of the gondoliers' love-song, become an impersonal voice now as the boats drifted apart. Little wonder that Page forgot to be abstractly analytical, and that the soft spontaneous sympathy of his companion's eyes exercised enchantment borrowed from the environment. He smiled upon her with a bright tenderness which transfigured his thoughtful face.
For a long time they were silent, but when he gave her his hand as she stepped from the launch, he spoke out of the depths of his enjoyment:—
"That was a never-to-be-forgotten experience for me."
"I think no one ever forgets his first evening in the Court of Honor," returned Clover.
"Well, what are we going to do now?" asked Mildred, as they ascended the steps. "My! How the wind has sprung up from the lake. They will hardly dare to have the fireworks."
"Then let us take a brisk constitutional home," proposed Jack.
"Come, children. Follow your leader," commanded Mildred, turning and addressing Clover and her companion.
"Hurry her by the chocolate houses, Jack," said Clover; "that is, if you can."
"He can't," returned Mildred. "I have my eye on Baker's now."
She insisted that they all stop and partake of the cup, more potent than tea to cheer when the east wind blows, served by the pretty, uniformed girls, who by this time in the evening were inclined to be pessimistic and severe, small blame to them. They must easily believe that the human body is largely liquid.
Leaving the little circular temple, the quartette started up the lake shore on the stone walk. The dark waves were tumbling and dashing, tipped with foam in the sudden gale. The battle-ship and large excursion boats were gay with electric lights.
"Oh, Mrs. Van Tassel!" exclaimed Page. "See the search light on the Quadriga." They turned to view the group with its mounted heralds and champing, prancing horses, distinct and unearthly fair in the surrounding blackness.
"Could we walk home backward, do you think?" he asked.
"No," replied Clover. "I can answer with certainty, for I've tried it more than once."
"I suppose we do in course of time get past the Manufactures Building? What an incomprehensible, colossal thing it is."
"Yes, a good deal more so to me now than it was a month ago."
"Have mercy!" exclaimed Page with a groan.
Mildred and Jack were walking in front of them.
"Isn't this like old times, Mildred?" asked the latter with a relish, clapping his hat on tighter as the sweep of the wind threatened it.
"Just about as unlike as we could imagine. Sorry to disagree with you, Jack."
"Don't mention it. You don't disagree with me, my child. I have enjoyed this first evening with you immensely."
"First evening is pretty good, isn't it?" suggested the girl, and they both laughed. "You didn't use to quarrel for my society," she added.
"I want you to understand that I wasn't quarreling with you there, a few hours back, at the Marine Café."
"Oh!"
"No, I was merely making the excusable protest of an old friend,—speaking in a brotherly way, you know."
"Oh, it won't do, Jack." He knew exactly how she was smiling in the darkness. "It is my unalterable rule never to be a sister to any of them. I can't break over it for you."
"Them!" ejaculated her companion. "I don't thank you to class me with Tom, Dick, and Harry, and the rest of these late arrivals. Remember, I was the first-comer into your friendship."
"You were a pretty good sort of fellow."
"Yes; you probably can't conceive of what a healing thought it is to me now that I have snubbed you many a time, young lady. I had to. Your attentions were so persistent in those days. Yes, mademoiselle, I had to hold you off, or I should never have had any peace of my life. I remember it well. Perhaps you don't."
"Oh yes, I do, perfectly," sighed Mildred. "Wasn't the Flirt the stanchest little dear that ever spread a sail; and to think that is all over! I don't feel nearly so much elation over going with Mr. Eames on that yacht party to-morrow as I used to in nagging you into consent that I should sail the Flirt."
"Is that the infantry officer?"
"Yes; and he is very nice. I should like you to meet him. If I knew him a little better I would have procured you an invitation. You should remember that virtue is its own reward. If you had not preferred smoking in the hammock to coming into the parlor and making yourself agreeable the other evening when Helen Eames and her mother were calling, they would surely have asked you to join the party. 'If you would be loved, be lovely.' That is what my mother used to tell me." Mildred laughed to herself.
"Then why don't you obey her?" returned Jack curtly.
"I don't want to be loved," returned the spoiled girl. "I'm loved too much already."
After this they marched in silence for a time, their springy steps carrying them by the foreign buildings, Ceylon, France with its green, fountain-sprayed court, Spain, and Germany. It was not until they turned beside Iowa's pavilion and left behind them the waves dashing on the sea-wall that Mildred spoke again.
"It gives me the blues, Jack, every time I see our boathouse stranded high and dry behind that nightmare of a Spectatorium."
"I don't see how you can call anything dry that is as full of beer as that is."
"Oh," exclaimed the girl indignantly, "what a fall from its old estate! To think of our playhouse being turned into a saloon! Do you remember the dance it was christened with? I was allowed to go, and you made me perfectly happy by waltzing with me once."
"Humph!" returned the other. "And now it is a great question whether you would make me perfectly happy by waltzing with me once."
"Oh, Jack," Mildred laughed out now, "don't be cross. Don't grudge a girl her 'little brief authority.' My observation of life has taught me that her queenship is brief enough. She blossoms out of awkward childhood into an attractive womanhood, and then after a little space yields up her sweet liberty to some lord of creation whom she has to pacify and wait on ever afterward. Moral: Let her keep her authority as long as possible."
"You seem to have been rather unfortunate in your married masculine acquaintance," returned Van Tassel drily.
A sudden thought sent the color flying to Mildred's face, and her customary complacent poise was shaken.
"There was one exception," she said, so timidly and meekly that her companion was struck by the change; but she had not the courage to be more specific, and there was no need. Jack understood her.
When the four reached home they found Miss Berry in the sitting-room reading by the light of a lamp.
Blitzen was sitting on a rug, and did not, as usual, run to meet them. On a chair reposed a bird-cage with some white stuff in it.
"What is this, Aunt Love?" asked Clover. "Have you some new pets?"
"I've got one," returned Miss Berry, smiling placidly. "I'll give you all three guesses. It's a World's Fair souvenir."
"Tell us, Blitzen," said Mildred, kneeling on the rug beside the small dog and shaking his tousled head; but Blitzen, as soon as he could free himself, withdrew in unwonted dignity. Evidently there was that within him to-night which could not brook flippancy.
"A live souvenir?" asked Clover, perplexed.
"Mr. Gorham can guess," remarked Miss Lovina, glancing again down the columns of her newspaper, and shaking in a comfortable silent laugh.
"I?" said Page; then, after a moment's cogitation, "You surely didn't bring home one of those chickens?"
"I did. In that cage, my dears, there is an electric chicken." Miss Berry looked over her spectacles impressively. "The same power that runs the inter-internal railroad and shines in the rainbow fountains, don't disdain to hatch a chicken. If you doubt it, there's the chicken."
She gestured toward the bird-cage.
"I brought it home in a box; and I said to myself that most everybody had an old cage, so I went up garret, and there I found that one. On Blitzen's account I thought best to use a cage to-night." Her gaze descended on the terrier, whose head descended beneath it.
"Blitzen," asked Jack with deliberate, stern solemnity, "what do you think of the chicken?"
Blitzen rose with a crushed air, and slowly, as one who would not attract attention, crept across the room and retired under a remote sofa.
A shout of laughter followed his unostentatious disappearance.
"We've had some words," explained Aunt Love. "He barked cruel at the poor little thing when he first saw me with it."
"Have it out, have the chicken out," said Mildred; and Miss Berry, yielding to the general urgency, produced her prize from the depths of the cotton wool. It began to struggle and peep vigorously as soon as its beady eyes saw the light, and there came a muffled howl from under the sofa.
"What are you going to name it?" asked Clover.
"I don't know what name would be good enough for such a smart critter."
"Why, Electra, of course," remarked Jack. "Nothing less for such a star among chickens."
"Sounds well and suitable," observed Miss Berry placidly, "whether it means anything or not."
"I wonder if it has any unusual springs," said Mildred. "If I should touch the button do you suppose it would give us a rest?" She advanced a finger toward one of the bright eyes, but Miss Berry removed her squeaking prize from harm, and tucked it away again in the cotton from which it struggled several times before finally settling down with a diminuendo of peeps.
CHAPTER XVIII.
CLOVER'S DIPLOMACY.
Mr. and Mrs. Page arrived duly, even a little earlier than they had at first anticipated. Jack met them at the station and drove with them to their destination.
"You see it was simply impossible, Mrs. Van Tassel, for my wife to curb her impatience after Gorham began to write home," said Mr. Page to his hostess in explanation of their change of plan. "Gorham doesn't very often gush, as perhaps you know."
"And I assure you that Mr. Page was not difficult to persuade," added Hilda. "Your last kind letter determined us. And I am really in Chicago!" she went on, looking about her. "Jack, congratulate me!"
"I do, sincerely. I think you, Hilda, will appreciate your advantages."
Mr. Page gave his contagious, quiet chuckle. "That is the way he goes on," he said, turning to Mildred. "Jack is very severe on me always. I am going to show you, Miss Bryant, several lists of adjectives, carefully prepared, very carefully and thoughtfully, one for every day in the week, that I am intending to use on the World's Fair to mollify my cousin."
"You might have trusted safely to the inspiration of the moment," returned Mildred gayly.
"Oh, you don't know Jack. One single false move, one expletive out of place, and it would be all over with me."
"Poor Robert, I feel for you," remarked Van Tassel.
"Why, that is mysterious," replied his cousin. "Anybody who compassionates me just now doesn't understand economizing his emotions." The speaker sank back in his roomy wicker chair and took a glass of lemonade from a salver which Miss Berry was passing to the company. The crushed ice jingled pleasantly against the crystal, and the couple of straws that emerged from each glass were alluring to a stout and thirsty man. "Aunt Love, it is very pleasant to see you here," he added. "We shall have to renew our old acquaintance. We had no time in Boston."
"That's so, Mr. Page. I guess I can jog your memory about a good many things."
When later the husband and wife were shown to their own room and the door was closed, Robert looked at Hilda with large eyes. "Whew!" he said softly. "Uncle Richard was all right. What pretty women!"
"I told you so. I told you that Mildred was a perfect Juno, and that you were very unfortunate to be out of town when she spent that week with me at the beach. As for Mrs. Van Tassel"—
"Why, she's an angel,—she's an angel! I knew it from her letter. I felt it in my bones."
"As if you knew anything about your bones, you dear old cushion. Stop praising those girls,—calling one a goddess and one an angel. Come and apostrophize the lake. Isn't it beautiful?"
"It was you who called Miss Bryant a goddess, remember. Yes, this is every bit as good as the ocean, for all I see," walking to the window and putting an arm around his wife's waist. "We are in great luck, Hilda," continued Page, glancing about their spacious room. "This isn't much like the discomforts we read about in connection with World's Fair visiting. I don't wonder," he added after a pause, "that Jack was cut up by being at cross purposes with those girls."
"H'm. There is one exhibit I have come out here to see that isn't inside the White City," returned Hilda. "I've come to discover which one of them Jack is in love with."
"Both, of course. How can he help it?" replied her husband promptly.
Gorham took it upon himself to launch his brother and sister on their Fair pilgrimage that very evening.
When they came home again, hours later, Clover and Jack were sitting alone in the parlor and rose to meet them as they entered the room. Their tired, excited faces were a study.
Hilda dropped into a chair. "Well," she exclaimed, "I never expected to go to heaven till I died; but I've been there."
"Jack," added Robert meekly, "get in your fine work now. I've nothing to say, absolutely nothing. I've dropped my jaw so often since six o'clock that it isn't in working order, any way."
"Say no more," returned Van Tassel, waving his hand grandiloquently. "We Chicagoans are nothing if not magnanimous."
"I thought I knew what I was going to see, that is the queer part of it," said Page, looking perplexed; "but it seems I didn't know anything at all about it. I feel there is an unlimited feast in store for me, Mrs. Van Tassel."
Clover smiled at his enthusiastic tone. "You are in the first-day frame of mind, I see."
"What is that?"
"Oh, eagerness and hopefulness."
"And what is the second?"
"Despair; yes, overwhelming, stony despair."
"What is the third? Suicidal tendency?"
"No indeed. Resignation. At first one expects and determines to see everything; soon finds that to be so impossible that he yields to his bewilderment, and at last accepts the inevitable and sets himself to see what he can, and be rapturously content therewith."
"Thank you, thank you! Forewarned, forearmed. Perhaps we may even skip the second stage."
A few days later, Clover, her guests having scattered on various quests, went to the noon orchestral concert in Festival Hall. This wonderfully generous free exhibit attracted a large audience, many of whom embraced it as an opportunity to rest from the fatigues of sight-seeing, while many others, coming perhaps from the country where "hearing a band" was a rare privilege, were drawn thither by the hope of attractive music.
Possibly one half the number came intelligently to the feast, and greeted the conductor when he entered upon the stage. Clover joined in the applause as Theodore Thomas passed before his players with that quiet, characteristic grace, which has power to thrill with anticipation a greater number of America's music-lovers than the movement of any other man.
It interested her as it had many a time before, this summer, to note the effect upon certain of the audience of the number with which the programme opened. She saw pleased hopefulness give way to apathy in many faces, as strange harmonies and dissonances fell upon uncultivated ears. She noticed one patient-faced countryman who waited through two numbers, evidently discovering nothing but a wilderness of sound. He then examined his programme, and not finding "After the Ball" on it, arose and departed from the hall more in sorrow than anger.
Blessings on the man, by the way, who introduced the noiseless paper on which those programmes were printed. There were two girls sitting next to Clover, chewing gum while they listened for some melody they could recognize, and Clover congratulated herself that all the foldings and drummings of their programmes were inaudible; but alas, as soon as the maidens discovered that the music they were hearing was unworthy the name, they cheerfully set about doing the next best thing, which was to prepare for the afternoon's campaign. This was a free concert anyway, so no matter if it wasn't worth much. They would not leave at once, because this was a better place to rest than they would be likely to find soon again; so they unfolded their maps of the grounds, not printed on absorbent paper, far from it, and proceeded to discuss their plans.
Clover caught sight of Jack standing across the hall. He discovered her at the same moment. His concentrated look flashed into a smile as they exchanged nods.
At the close of the number he came around to where Clover sat in the front row of the circle, and leaned his arm on the railing in front of her.
"How handsome Jack can look, when he is happy and interested," she thought, and instantly became aware that her neighbors had ceased their planning, and were nudging each other in silent absorption.
"Wasn't that great!" he exclaimed. "Are you going over to the Music Hall this afternoon?"
"Indeed I am. They are going to play the Tschaikowsky Symphony."
"That settles it. Suppose we go up in the wheel after lunch, and then go over to the concert together."
"All right. I'd like to. Why, there is Mildred on the left, down there near the front. I didn't know she was coming."
"Nor I. Shall I go and speak to her?"
In a minute Jack was back, just as the music began again. The girls who had constituted the thorn in Clover's side during the first half of the programme had left their seats as soon as he moved away, so he came in and took the place beside Clover.
"Mildred says she will go with us," he whispered.
When the Intermezzo was finished, Clover spoke.
"Did you ask Mildred to join us?" she asked.
"No, she proposed it," returned Jack, and there was a pleasure in his eyes which did not escape his companion.
"You mentioned last night in our talk that you hadn't seen much of Mildred since you came; that she was too much of a belle for your comfort."
"Yes. It is simply surprising to find her here alone."
Clover's eyes twinkled. She had mentioned to her sister, this morning, that she meant to meet Jack at the noon concert.
"Well, you leave her to me. No matter what I say, don't contradict me. Promise?"
"What's up?" asked Van Tassel doubtfully.
"Oh, Mildred's conceit and a few other things that ought to come down. I want you to myself a part of the time, Jack."
Her companion met her laughing glance.
"I am yours to command, Clover, always."
"Don't forget, then," she answered.
When the concert was over, Mildred came slowly up the aisle, superb as usual in her consciously unconscious carriage.
"Well," she said to her sister as they met, "where are we to lunch?"
"Are you going to lunch with us?" asked Clover in well-affected surprise.
"Of course I am," returned the younger with a half-pouting smile flung at Jack; "and I am going in the Ferris Wheel with you too. I haven't been up in it yet."
"Why, I don't see how you possibly can, Mildred," said Clover coolly. "I heard you promise Mr. and Mrs. Page to meet them in the Art Gallery at two o'clock, and show Mrs. Page some of our favorite pictures."
Mildred expected some protest from Jack, and was disconcerted that none came. "I only told them that if I was at the south entrance at two o'clock I would act as their cicerone," she answered.
"Well, my dear, having said so much," suggested Clover gravely, "I think the least you can do is to be there, considering that they are our guests."
Still Jack did not interfere. Mildred could not forbear hurling one glance at him from beneath her eyelashes, but it might have been a gaze. Van Tassel was absently viewing the dispersing audience.
Her eyes and cheeks burned as they had on the night he refused to accompany her to witness the fireworks, but as on that occasion she carried the matter with a high hand.
"Very well, then you have lost my company at lunch, too. You and Jack would be sure to make me late, dawdling at table.Au revoir," and as they nodded to her, she swept away.
Clover looked at her companion and tried to repress the mirthful laugh that bubbled over her lips.
"Jack, you wouldn't be human if you hadn't enjoyed that."
"Then I must be inhuman," he responded rather ruefully, "for I give you my word I'm scared almost to death."
"Don't you worry, mon ami; I know Mildred to the depths of her noble, generous, overbearing, over-indulged soul."
"I don't suppose you realize, Clover," Van Tassel spoke low and jerkily, "but I care very much; absurdly much, you might think, considering the shortness of the time."
Clover looked into his flushed face, and the merriment in her sweet eyes was quenched.
"Dear Jack," she said, laying her hand lightly on his arm, "whatever you wish, I wish. Trust me. No harm has been done. Do you want my advice,—the advice of one who knows?"
"Yes, I do."
"Then don't let Mildred suspect what you have told me. The round world is just a rattle to her now. You are one of the bells on it that jingle for her amusement when she moves you. There are Katherines in existence still, and Petruchios are wholesome teachers for them."
"Imagine me cracking a horsewhip at Mildred!"
"Out, please!" roared a Columbian Guard, exasperated by the sight of these two loiterers, after the remainder of the audience had drifted away. "As if there wasn't any other place on the grounds to spoon but just this," he muttered.
Mildred, to her credit be it said, devoted her afternoon to Mrs. Page with as cheerful courtesy as though she bore no grudge in her mind against the world. Mr. Page left them together and went off somewhere under his brother's guidance. It was nearly dinner-time when he drove up to the house in a Beach wagon, and found Mildred swinging idly in a hammock on the piazza.
"Your wife is taking a nap," she announced, as he came up the steps.
"Fortunate woman!" he responded, sinking wearily upon a wicker divan. "The only interest I've had for hours in any exhibit was as to whether there was a chair in it; but Gorham is a terrible fellow. Merciless. Each building being one thousand miles from every other building makes it hard lines. I threatened more than once to trip over one of those chains that say 'Keep off the grass,' and refuse to get up again."
"You and your brother should have taken one of those double chairs."
"Oh, there wouldn't have been any room for Gorham," and the jolly man laughed. "I suppose you have done the Plaisance."
"Partly, yes."
"Gorham and I went into the Dahomey village, this afternoon. Some of those savages were unpleasantly personal. Good afternoon, Aunt Love," as the housekeeper appeared on the veranda. "I was just telling Miss Mildred how those children of nature in the Dahomey village injured my finer feelings to-day. One of them came for me with a big carving knife, yelling 'Big man, fat man,' and going through the pantomime of taking a slice off my sacred person."
"Dirty critters!" remarked Miss Berry sententiously.
"Isn't it a funny paradox to see an incandescent light over the door of each hut?" went on Page. "There was one big fellow squatted down in the sun, off by himself, playing on a rough sort of a harp, and singing monotonously something that sounded like 'Come away, come away, Chicago.' I tried to write down the pitches he sang, and that amused him immensely. His ivories would have made a perfect dentist's sign. I gave him a dime or so to repeat the performance, a sufficient number of times, and he was delighted, and kept saying 'Chicago beer.'"
"Yes," returned Miss Berry bitterly. "They have to come to a Christian land for that."
"Wait till you see the South Sea Islanders," said Mildred.
"We did. Fine, aren't they? There is an exhibition of drill and muscle worth seeing."
"And thatcafé-au-laitskin!" exclaimed Mildred. "I am entirely spoiled for white beauties."
"Let 'em wear somethin' more 'n a straw wreath and a piece o' calico then," remarked Miss Berry.
"But Aunt Love," suggested Page, "you must remember how clothing that brown skin is. I am sure you must admit it is an improving sight to see one of those heavy-eyed beauties sit cross-legged, and absently scratch one great toe while she sings."
"What are you all laughing about?" asked Hilda, coming out upon the piazza in the freshness of a light organdie gown.
"Your husband has been to the Midway," returned Miss Berry. "Don't be surprised at anything he may say or do; and I don't believe we'd better wait for Mr. and Mrs. Van Tassel any longer, for dinner was ready when I came out here."
"I don't understand Clover's staying so," remarked Mildred, leaving the hammock and trying not to speak severely.
"I go, I fly, to make myself presentable," said Page, slowly dragging himself up from his comfortable resting-place.
After dinner Mildred made an opportunity to address the housekeeper privately. "For pity's sake, Aunt Love, when you are going to speak of Jack and Clover as you did this evening, don't say Mr. and Mrs. Van Tassel."
"Why not?" asked Miss Lovina with exasperating unconsciousness.
"Why, it sounds so—so—absurdly married."
Miss Berry smiled. "What shall I say then?"
"Mrs. and Mr. Van Tassel, of course," replied Mildred, making an effort to speak with a suavity she did not feel.
"Well, if that ain't a new idea. Mrs. and Mr.! Do tell!" said Miss Berry good-naturedly. "Oh, I'll learn a deal of etiquette to take back to Pearfield. It's enough to do a body good to see Mr. Jack and your sister so much to each other, ain't it? Seems if they have lots o' pleasure together now; just as it should be."
"I don't know that they are together so very much," returned Mildred coolly.
"That's 'cause you're off so much o' the time. Why, they're just the best friends that ever was; and Mrs. Van Tassel, she's gone back before my eyes from a grave woman full or care to a merry girl just as free as a bird. It does me good, Miss Mildred. It does me so much good, I'm 'most afraid I shall grow fat on it."
Mildred's bright eyes looked thoughtful for a second, as though she were digesting the housekeeper's words. "There is Blitzen, barking," she exclaimed, and both hastened to see whether Electra's nervous system was receiving some fresh shock.
Gorham Page strayed over from the hotel, as was his habit after dinner, and found the family disposed in various comfortable chairs and hammocks about the piazza.
The autocratic Miss Bryant was feeling a trifle sore, although she did not dream of acknowledging to herself that it was because Clover and Jack still remained away, and in the present sensitive state of her self-love it was a new affront that Gorham did not at once seek her side, but after bowing to her, settled down beside Mrs. Page, who closed the book she was reading upon her finger as a marker.
"Yes indeed, the afternoon was delightful," she said, in answer to his question. "Mildred and I had a charming time among the pictures. You nearly committed fratricide. Do you see poor Robert fast asleep over there?"
"This will do him a world of good. Train down his flesh, and strengthen his muscle; though the poor old chap did say, before we decided to come home, that he had walked so long his feet splayed out like the camels' every time he set them down." Page laughed reminiscently.
"Camels? Did you go into Cairo Street?"
"No, to the Bedouin village; the Wild East show."
"Very well. You have just saved your lives. I understand that Cairo Street is one of the plums of the Plaisance, and if Robert had gone without me, I should have been highly offended."
"Yes, he is well trained. I wonder if my wife will find me as thoughtful. I am afraid not."
Hilda laughed at the sincere meekness of his tone. "No, I'm sure she won't, for the simple reason that you will never have one."
"I should be sorry to think that."
"Then why don't you do as nine out of every ten men in your place would do?"
"You mean fall in love? You know, Hilda, how often I've done that."
Mrs. Page laughed again at the gently remonstrant tone. "Your sort of falling in love isn't worth two straws," she declared scoffingly. "Don't take that into consideration at all. The next woman you meet who satisfies you intellectually, propose to her. If she accepts you, marry her. I don't believe you would make her very unhappy. You wouldn't if you were as kind a husband as you are a brother."
"Thank you. You might give me a written recommendation. See how handsome Miss Bryant's face looks against that golden pillow."
"Yes; it is a proof of your hard heart that you withstand her."
"I don't withstand her. You have no idea how much I enjoyed an afternoon I had with her at the Fair last week; but Jack was remarkably short with me that evening, and I fancied I had trespassed on his preserves."
"Not a bit of it. He must be a dog in the manger."
"Why, I'm very sure he is hard hit in that direction."
"Oh, where are a man's eyes, I wonder! I haven't been here very long, but long enough to discover the truth."
"I suppose you want me to ask you what truth?"
"No, I don't, my dear." Mrs. Page reopened her book.
"You are not hinting at—at—Mrs. Van Tassel?" Gorham spoke in a hushed tone.
"Just observe for yourself," said Hilda sententiously.
"You ought not to have such a thought."
Mrs. Page looked up, wondering at this severity. "Why, if you please? You surely haven't an idea that that young creature is going to sacrifice the rest of her life to a memory of duty done?"
"But Hilda, that is repugnant!" Page rose suddenly, and his sister's gaze followed him as he moved away. It was very unusual for him to show so much feeling. "Wouldn't it be a strange, strange thing if after waiting all these years Gorham should love at last and love hopelessly?" She banished the query with a sigh. Sober second thought assured her that her brother had not meant more than he said. The idea that Jack might wish to marry his father's widow was distasteful to him, and that was all.
Page approached Mildred, little realizing how indefensible she considered it that he had not done so some minutes previous. She was too glad of his presence, however, to punish him. It would never do for Jack to come home and suppose that she had not been holding court.
"What beautiful evenings you have in Chicago," he began. "May I take this chair?" drawing one near the hammock in which she was sitting against a nest of pillows, her foot touching the floor gently as she rocked.
"Yes, I never tire of seeing the moonlight on the water as it is shining to-night. When I was a little girl it was a great treat to me to be allowed to spend a summer evening on this piazza, and I enjoy it scarcely less now."
"You enjoy it very seldom, I observe."
"Yes, of course there are lots of engagements this summer, and a quiet evening at home like this seems very welcome occasionally. One likes too, sometimes, to renew acquaintance with the moon. After living among rosy, violet, pale green, and white search lights, and all sorts of spectacular electrical effects so much, one comes back to moonlight on the water as to an old friend."
The girl clasped her hands above her head upon the down pillow, and allowed Page to look at her, which he was not slow to do.
"I miss your sister and Jack, this evening. Where are they?"
"Columbus knows! Since the authorities have been Barnumizing the Fair, as they call it, one is led on to stay, and stay, and stay, to see this race or that dance or the other illumination. I left them after the noon concert."
"You were there, then. Of course you are fond of music."
"I enjoy it very much, although Clover says I don't. She and Jack are cranks about it. I am not."
"They have one strong predilection in common, then."
Mildred did not reply; and Page continued: "The effect of music upon a person who is in sympathy with it is an interesting study. Those involuntary chills that pass over one under the moving influence of good music are rather annoying to me. I do not wish to be moved uncontrollably by anything. I wish to decide just how deeply to feel on any subject. Do you know what I mean?"
"Yes, exactly." The decision of the girl's reply rather surprised her companion. She let him look deep into her luminous eyes set in the moonlight fairness of her face. "And further than agreeing with you in the desirability of the principle," she added, "I carry the theory into practice."
"Do you mean to say that you are always able to let your head decide what your heart shall feel?"
"Invariably."
"But that is no common characteristic in a woman. With women the heart speaks first usually."
"Not in the case of the well-balanced woman."
"Then perhaps you can tell me," said Page, much surprised and interested, "perhaps you will be good enough to tell me what your ideas are concerning love. There, too, do you think it possible for the head to speak first?"
Mildred let a repressed laugh burst its bounds. "Do you mean, do I think it possible to fall in love head first?"
"Forgive me if I ask too much; but it seems to me very helpful to compare notes with one whose aims and desires are similar to your own."
"Oh, I don't mind telling you, Mr. Page," said the girl, sobering. "My ideas on the subject are clearly formulated, and I know of no reason why I should not impart them to one who will be appreciative. I believe a woman can decide what characteristics would be sympathetic with hers, and when she is sufficiently acquainted with a man to discover if he is possessed of those qualities, she can give rein to her heart, and love him"—the speaker suddenly extended her white hands before her—"love him with all her soul!"
The sudden thrill in her movement and in her low contralto voice electrified her listener by its unexpectedness.
"But can one always love where the head dictates?" he asked; "that is the question."
"Undoubtedly; for when one finds the combination she seeks, she will discover that she has loved it already. I will tell you, Mr. Page, you tempt my confidence because you captivate my judgment. I will describe to you the man I await. He must be good to look upon, for I value beauty of form; but he must be cool and steady of brain, must love to think, to analyze, to look upon life not as a plaything but as something the laws of which must be studied and explored continually. Incidents which appear trifling to others, to him will suggest a thousand questions. He must in short be a student of human nature whose researches I may, by-and-by, as I grow wiser, assist. Oh, proud, happy destiny!" She paused as though overcome, and grasping the sides of the hammock looked with a quick turn of her head toward the moonlight.
Page regarded her in silence, then leaned toward her in his earnestness. "A man like that is not found every day, Miss Bryant; but I congratulate you on your high standard; for the being you describe has surely a great heart to throb for humanity as well as the head to study it, and your affections will not be starved, I am sure of that."
Mildred grasped the hammock closer and caught her lip between her teeth. Page's unconsciousness had turned the tables, and she had sufficient sense of humor, in spite of her vanity, to make it difficult not to smile as he walked unseeing around her net, and it fell, enveloping her own saucy head.