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VICTORIA GRi\CE^
GRACE LrVlNGSTON HI
**:^*4; l '^•'^
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THE OBSESSION OF
VICTORIA GRACEN
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GRACE L. H. LUTZ'S
Charming and Wholesome Romances
Miranda
With illustrations in color and black and white by £. L.
Henry, N.A. Qoth, with medallion. $1.25 net.
The Best Man
Three illustrations in color by Gayle Hoskins. Cloth. $1 .25 net.
Lo, Michael!
Three illustrations in color by Gayle Hoskins. Cloth. $1 .25 net.
Marcia Schuyler
Colored frontispiece by Anna Whelan Betts, and six illustrations
from paintings by £. L. Henry, N.A. Decorated cloth, with
medallion. ^1.25 net.
Phoebe Deane
Frontispiece in color and five illustrations from paintings by
£. L. Henry, N.A. Cloth, with medallion. $1.25 net.
Dawn of the Morning
Three illustrations in color by Anna Whelan Betts. Cloth,
colored medallion. $1.25 net.
The Mystery of Mary
Colored frontispiece by Anna W. Speakman. Goth. ^ i .00 net.
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
PUBLISHERS PHILADELPHIA
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THE NEW YORK
PUBLIC LIBRART
•-. _t.:.'> AND
or'irj
NEW YORK
SOCIETY LIBRARY
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YOU CAN SIT IN THE ALCOVE IN THE HALL, SIR, AND NEVER BE SEEN
Page 256
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y
The Obsession of
Victoria Gracen
By
Grace Livingston Hill iiri»
Author of •* Marcia Schuyler". 'XPhoBbe Deane",
*' Miranda", ete.
With lUustratioM by
EDWIN P. BAYHA
Philadelphia & London
J. B. Lippincott Company
1915
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llCJSSOfe ;
COPTiuaHTi 19x4* BT THS GOLbSK RpXJB COMFAKT
COFT^IOttT, Z9X5* BT THS OOLD^lf B^TLi: COMPANT
COPTRIGHT, I91S, BT7. B. LIPPIMCbTT COMFANT
PVBLI8HI]>» 8KPTSMBSR» Z9I5
PROPER'
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socit-Y
PBINTKD BT J. B. UFPINCOTT COMPAlTr
AT THB WABniKOTON BQUARB PBKM
PHILADXLPHXA, U. B. A.
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r ILLUSTRATIONS
^ Txam
^ "You Can Srr in the Alcove in the Hall, Sib, and Nbyeb Be
Seen " Frontispiece
" You've Taken an Awful Contracjt on Youb Hands, Victoeia;
AND You'll Be Sobbt, or I'll Miss My Guess" 96
Miss Btfath Stood HebGboxtnd IN Snow Nbaelt A Foot Deep 223
IV
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The Obsession of Victoria Gracen
CHAPTEB I
The carriage turned the comer at a cheerf iil trot, and drew
up before the door of a smart brick house in a row of new
houses on a little new street. The occupants, one by one,
alighted on the sidewalk with an air of relief and of duty
well done.
Mr. Miller, tall and heavy, with a thick, red neck and a
coarse, red face, got out first, followed by his sharp-faced
aspiring wife in borrowed mourning, — ^because of course one
wouldn^t want to wear mourning after the funeral for a mere
sister-in-law who left nothing behind but a mortgage and a
good-for-nothing son.
The three little Millers, Elsa, Carlotta, and Alexander,
in black hair-ribbons and black hat-bands, who had gone
along solely for the ride to the cemetery, spilled joyfully out,
glad to be back home again; and finally the only mourner
the carriage contained, Eichard, the son of the dead woman,
stepped awkwardly forth from his cramped position, and
looked gloomily about him.
The setting sun was sending long, red rays across the pave-
ment. It was good to the Millers to be back in every-day life
again with thoughts of death put aside, and little, common,
alive things going on everywhere — children calling to one
another in the street, wagons and carts hurrying home after
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8 THE OBSESSION OF
the day's work, the dang of the crowded trolley, the weak
light of the street-lamps suddenly blinking ineffectually into
the ruby light of the setting sun. It was good to see one's
own house standing safe and homely in shining varnish and
glowing painted brick, and to know that life could now go on
in its regular pleasant monotony, which had been interrupted
solemnly for four days by the sudden death of one who had
been near without being particularly dear. The sister who
had married above her station into a family who never re-
ceived her or took any notice of her child; whose husband
had the ill grace to die young and leave her to struggle on
alone with their house only half paid for and a handsome,
lazy boy whom she had allowed to grow up to have his own way,
was not deeply mourned by any of them. They looked upon
her son as almost irretrievably spoiled, but they intended to
do their sensible best to make a man of him in their own way,
though they felt that for his good his mother should have
died ten years earlier.
They marshalled their forces on the sidewalk in front
of the house, and looked closely at him now with a strange,
new, possessive glance.
^'Supper'U be ready fwoncet,*' said his aunt pointedly;
" so don't you go to goin' off."
Richard regarded her defiantly, but said nothing. He
was not hungry, but he had no relish for an argument with
his aunt. He had always kept out of her way as much as
possible. She knew he disliked her. He had once come upon
her while fihc was in the midst of giving his mother some
wholesome advice about his upbringing; and he had loomed
• • • '
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VICTORIA. GRACEN 9
darkly in the doorway and told her to go about her business,
that his mother knew how to manage her own affairs. He
had looked so big and fierce, with his fine, black brows drawn
and his dark eyes blazing, that she had gone away, deferring
her further advice until a more convenient season when he
should not be by, but she knew that since then he had never
liked her.
Eichard looked furtively down the street; but his uncle's
heavy hand was upon his shoulder, and there was that in his
xmcle^s eye that made it apparent that the thing to do was
to go into the house. The boy had no desire to make a scene.
He wished to do all that was necessary to show respect to his
mother, but his soul was raging at the necessity which made
him a part of this group of imloved relatives. His xmde had
once told a man in his presence that Bichard resembled his
father's family, with an adjective describing that family
which was anything but complimentary, and that if he had his
way with the boy he would be taken from school and made to
work to get the foolishness out of him. He had said that it
usually took two generations at least to get the *' fine-gentle-
man '^ strain out of a family, but he'd take it out of Eichard
in one if he had half a chance. Since then Bichard had hated
his xmcle.
Entering the house, they found supper all ready; a good
roast of beef with vegetables and three kinds of pie in honor
of the occasion. The family ate with zest; for they felt the
hard part of the day to be over, and they might now enjoy the
gala part, which consisted mainly in eating the things pre-
pared as for a wedding-feast This was a funeral-feast. Mrs.
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10 THE OBSESSION OP
Miller had invited her two sisters to share it with them. It
helped to pay a long-standing score of invitations, besides
looking well to the neighbors that she went to so much trouble
for just a sister-in-law.
The two sisters had brought their respective husbands and
children, and arrived from the cemetery almost immediately,
laughing and talking with discreetly crescendo voices. Alto-
gether it was a jolly company that sat down to the table; and
Eichard, frowning, silent, was the only one out of accord.
He ate little, and before the rest were half through, sat back
with sullen gaze. His uncle talked much, with his mouth
full of beef, to the two brothers-in-law, and laughed heartily.
The funeral aspect was fast disappearing from the group.
His uncle rallied the boy on his solemnity.
"Ifs no more than natural," said one of the aunfs sis-
ters, peering at him not unkindly with curious, iluild eyes.
^' Of course the boy feels it. But then it ain't as if he was
all alone in the world. Eichard, you'd really ought to be
thankful you've got such a good home and such kind rela-
tives to take care of you."
Eichard's face flushed angrily. He was not in the least
thankful, and he had no idea whatever of being taken care of by
any of his kind relatives. He did not care for even the kind-
ness in the eyes of this woman who was not a relative, for
which latter fact he was very thankful. He wanted to tell
her to attend to her own affairs, but it did not seem a wise
remark to make just then. He was one against many. He
knew he could not knock them all down.
'^Have another piece of pie, Eichard," invited his aunt
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VICTORIA. GRACEN 11
magnanimoxisly^ as if the second piece of pie were a panacea
for all troubles. "His ma always let him have the second
helping," she explained portentously to her sisters, as if it had
been a habit of the dead woman much to be deplored. Bichard
declined the piece of pie curtly. The soul within him was at
the boiling-point. He had never been outwardly a very loving
son to his mother, but it frenzied him to hear her spoken of
in his aunt^s contemptuous tone.
^^ Eichard goes to work at the slaughter-house to-morrow
morning,'' stated his uncle to the brothers-in-law, as if it
were something quite understood between the uncle and
nephew. " Work'll take his mind off his loss. There's nothing
like work to make a man of a fellow.''
"That's so!" declared the other two men, heartily,
" that's so ! Right well do I remember when I first started
out to work."
" So you're going to work in the slaughter-house, Richard,"
said the mild sister, again turning her curious eyes on him
approvingly. " That's right. Your mother would 'a' been
real pleased at that. She was always awful troubled about your
idle ways, your not getting on in school, nor hunting a
job ^"
But Richard interrupted her further remarks.
" Not much I ain't going to work at the slaughter-house,"
he blazed in a low angry tone that sounded like a rumble
of thxmder.
He shoved his chair back sharply, and rose to his feet. He
would stand this thing no longer.
"You sure are going to work at the slaughter-house.
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12 THE OBSESSION OP
Eichard/' declared his unde; ^*and you're going to-morrow
moniing. I got a job for you just yesterday, and told 'em
you'd be on hand. If s a good job with reasonable pay right
at the start, and youll be able to pay your board to your aunt
like any young fellow that earns his own living. Of course
you couldn't get board that low anywheres else; but ifs a
start, and when you get a raise we'll expect you to pay more.
It's only reasonable. Youll have a chance to rise and learn
the whole business, and some day you may have a business
of your own."
^^No, thanks!" said Bichard curtly in the tone that
offended because it was so like his fine-gentleman father's
manner.
^^ None of your airs, young man I I'm your guardian
now. Youll do as I say, and I don't intend to have you
loafing about the streets smoking cigarettes and learning to
drink. You've got a man to deal with now. You're not
mamma's pet any longer. You've got to go to work to-morrow
morning, and you might just as well understand it right
now."
Eichard was too angry to speak. His throat seemed to
close over the furious words that rushed to his lips. He
stood facing his great, red-faced, beefy imde, whose work had
been in the slaughter-house since he was a mere boy, who had
early learned to drink the hot blood of the creatures he killed,
and who lodced like one of his own great oxen ready for
slaughter. There was contempt and scorn in the fine, yoxmg
face of the boy, fine in spite of the lines of self-indulgence
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VICTORIA. GRACEN IS
which his dead mother had helped him to grave upon it. He
was white and cool with anger. It was a part of his aristo-
cratic heritage that he could control his manner and voice
when he was angry, and it always made his tempestuous unde
still more furious that he could not break this youthful, con-
temptuous calm; therefore Richard had the advantage of him
in an argument.
The boy looked his uncle defiantly in the eyes for a full
minute, while the relatives watched in mingled surprise,
interest, and disapproval the audacity of the youth; then he
turned on his heel, and without a word walked toward the
door.
*' Where you goin*, Eichard ? '^ called out his cousin Elsa,
disappointed that the interesting scene should be suddenly
brought to a close by the disappearance of the hero. Elsa
frequented moving-picture shows, and liked to have her
tragedies well worked out.
Richard had never really disliked Elsa. She had but
too lately emerged from babyhood to have been in the
least annoying to him. Her question was merely the ques-
tion of a child.
^'Fm going home," he answered briefly, and his hand
was on the door-knob; but his progress was stopped by the
thundering voice of his uncle.
*'Stop, you young jackanapes!'^ he roared. ^^Do you
mean to defy me in my own house ? Just come back to your
seat at the table, and we'll have it out. JSTow is as good as any
time. You've got to understand that I'm your master, if it
is the day of your mother's funeral."
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14 THE OBSESSION OP
*^And your mother scarcely cold in her grave yetl*'
whimpered his aunt. " You're going to run around town and
disgrace us all, you know you are/'
" I am only going home, Aunt Sophia,'* said Eichard with
the calm dignity that was like a red rag to the fury of his
irate uncle.
^^ Home ! '* thundered the uncle. '* You have no home but
this. Don't you know that the old house you ,called home was
mortgaged to more than its worth, and that I hold the
mortgage ? Your mother was deep in debt to me when she
died, and there wasn't even enough left to pay her funeral
expenses. It's high time you understood how matters stand,
young man. You have no home! You will have to come
down oflf your high horse now, and get right down to busi-
ness. A boy that can't even pay his mother's funeral ex-
penses has no room to walk around like a fine gentleman
and talk about going home."
Eichard looked his uncle in the eyes again, a cold fury
stealing over him, a desperate, lonely, heart-sinking horror
taking possession of him. He felt that he could not and
would not stay here another minute. He wanted to fly at
his uncle and thrash him. He wanted to stop all their ugly,
gloating voices, and show himself master of the situation; but
he was only a lonely, homeless boy, penniless — so his uncle
said — and without a friend in the world. But at least he
would not stay here to give them the satisfaction of bullying
him.
Suddenly he turned with a quick movement, and bolted
from the room and the house.
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VICTORIA. GRACEN 15
It was all done so quickly that they could not have stopped
him. His uncle had not thought he would go after he heard
the truth. His aunt began to cry over the disgrace she said
he would bring upon the family, running around town the
night of his mother's funeral, and perhaps getting drunk and
getting his name in the paper. She reproached her husband
tearfully for not having used more tact in his dealings with
the boy this first night.
The two visiting brothers-in-law advised not worry-
ing, and said the boy would be all right. He was just
worked up over his loss. He would willingly come to
terms next day when he was hungry and found he had no
home. Just let him alone to-night. Elsa said she shouldn't
think Richard would want to go to his home. She should
think he'd be afraid. She said she'd stay by the window
and watch for him, and thus she stole out of the uncom-
fortable family debate.
Eichard, meanwhile, was breathlessly running block after
block toward his old home. It might be true or not that
the house was mortgaged to his unde. It probably was true,
for he remembered his mother worrying about expenses when
the boarders began to leave because the table was getting so
poor they couldn't stand it, and she got sick, and the cook
left; but, true or not, they could not take him away from
the house to-night. It was his refuge from the world by all
that was decent. He would go back to his home, crawl in at
a window, and think out what he would do with himself.
His uncle would not pursue him there to-night, he was sure;
and, if he did, it would be easy to hide. His uncle would
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16 THE OBSESSION OF
never think to look on the roof^ which had been his refuge
more than once in a childish scrape.
He stole in through the little side-alley entrance to the
tiny kitchen-yard where his mother's ragged dish-doth still
fluttered disconsolately in the chill air of the evening. He
was thankful it was too cold for the neighbors to be out on
their front steps^ and thus he had been able to slip in
undetected.
It was quite dark now^ and the distant flickering arc-
light on the next street gave little assistance to climbing
in at the window; but Bichard had been in the same situation
hundreds of times before, and found no diflSculty in turning
the latch of the kitchen window and climbing in over the
sink. Many times in the small hours of the morning after
a jolly time with the fellows he had stolen in softly this way;
while his anxious mother kept fitful vigil at the front window,
weak tears stealing down her cheeks, to be mildly and pleas-
antly surprised an hour or so later on visiting his room at
finding him innocently asleep.
Eichard always assured her the next morning that it
had not been very late when he came in, and joined in her
wonder that she had not heard him; so she continued to have
faith in him and to believe that she had been mistaken about
thinking he was not in when she went upstairs from her
nightly toil in the kitchen.
Oh, he had not been a model son by any means, but neither
had she been a model mother. She was well-meaning and
loving, but weak and inefficient; and the boy, loving her in his
brusque way, while he half despised her weakness, had
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VICTORIA GRACEN 17
^^ guarded '* her from a lot of what he considered '^ lumecee-
sary worry ^^ about himself. He was all right, he reasoned;
and none of the dreadful things, like drowning, or getting
drunk, or being arrested, that his mother feared, were going
to happen to him. He would look out for that. He could
take care of himself, but he was not going to be tied to her
apron-string. There was something wild in him that called
to be satisfied, and only by going out with the boys on their
lawless good times could he satisfy it. There was nothing at
home to satisfy. Women didn^t understand boys; boys had to
go, and to know a lot of things that women did not dream
about. He did not intend to do any dreadful thing, of course,
but there was no need for her to bother about him the way she
did; so he kept her politely blinded, and went on his careless
free-and-easy way, deceiving her, yet loving her more than he
(knew.
As for his gentleman father, the boy worshipped his dim
memory, the more, perhaps, because his mother's family lost
no occasion to cast scorn upon it
But, as Bichard climbed softly in over the sink, a kind
of shame stole over him, and his cheeks grew hot in the
darkness. He let down the window noiselessly, and fastened
it. There was no need to be so quiet now, for no mother
waited up-stairs at the front window for his coming. It was
wholly imnecessary for him to remove his shoes before he
went up the stairs; for the ear that had listened for his steps
through the years of his boyhood was dull in death, and would
listen no more for his coming.
But habit held him, and his heart beat with a new and
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18 THE OBSESSION OF
painful remorse to think that he had ever deceived her.
For the first time in his life his own actions seemed most
reprehensible. Before this his deception had been to him
only a sort of virtue, just a manly shielding of his mother
from any unnecessary worry. It had never occurred to
him that he might have denied himself some of the mid-
night revels.
They had been comparatively harmless revels, in a way.
Temptations, of course, had beset him thickly, and to some
he had yielded; but those of the baser sort had not appealed
to him. The finer feelings of his nature had so far shielded
him; a sense that his father would not have yielded to such
things had held him. But he was young, and had not felt
the fulness of temptations that were to come. His character
was yet in the balance, and might turn one way or another;
though most- people would have said the probabilities were
heavily in favor of the evil. He had taken a few steps in
the downward course, and knew it, but was in no wise sure
that he intended to keep on. He did not consider himself the
bad boy that his mother's relatives branded him, though he
was defiantly aware of the bad reputation he bore, and
haughtily declined to do anything to prove that it was much
exaggerated.
He crept stealthily through the silent rooms, now so
strangely in order, the rooms that he never remembered to
have seen quite in order before. The chairs stood stiff and
straight aroxmd the walls, shoved back by alien hands after
the funeral. He shuddered as he passed the doorway of the
dingy little parlor. He knew his mother's casket was no
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VICTORIA GRACEN 19
longer there. He had stood by and seen them lower it into
the grave; but somehow in his vision the still fonm, and
white, strangely yomig, and miraculously pretty face of his
dead mother seemed still to lie there. Quickly turning his
head away from the doorway, he hurried up the stairs as
though he might have been pursued.
He wondered about the youth and beauty that death had
brought to his mother, of which he had never caught even a
glimpse before. Now he understood how his father had picked
her out from her uncomely family, and been willing to alienate
his own people for her sake. He felt a passing thrill of pride
in his father that he had stuck to her for the two years until
his death, in spite of the many temptations of his wealthy
relatives, though it meant complete alienation from all he had
before held dear.
*' Father was ' game ' all right, if he was used to different
things,^^ he said to himself softly as he opened the door of
his own room, and avoided the creaking board in his floor,
as was his wont. " Pretty punk family they must have been,
though, to let him ! *'
He stood looking about his own room by the light of the
street-lamp that shone dimly in at the window. It looked
unfamiliar. Some one had evidently been up here clear-
ing up also. The baseball pictures from magazines, and the
pennants that came as prizes with a certain number of ciga-
rette packages, which had clumsily decorated the ugly little
place, had been ruthlessly disposed of. He' suspected that
this had been done by his aunt's orders; for she had once
severely scored him for having such disreputable things
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«) THE OBSESSION OP
about^ and had told his mother that she was to blame
if he went wrong, if she allowed things like that on his wall.
He frowned now in the darkness^ and wished he might find
some way of getting even with his aunt. He resolved once
more never to get within her power again — no, not if he
had to run away before morning.
But his own room had an unfriendly look ; his heart was
sore, and his mind distressed. With a strange yearning that
he could not understand he went out, closed the door quietly
after him, and stole softly down the hall to his mother's
room.
This was cleared up, too; but still there were a number of
things about that suggested her presence, and with a queer,
choking feeling in his throat he suddenly turned the key in
the lock of this door, flung himself full length upon his
mother's bed, and buried his face in her pillow. There was
something about the old, woollen patchwork quilt with which
the bed was covered — ^it being the back room, and consequently
not on exhibition, there had been no necessity for a white
spread — that touched his heart and took him back to his
babyhood; and here he found that what he wanted was his
mother.
The mother that he had grieved so sorely, deceived, neg-
lected, disappointed, and worried into her grave! But she
was all he had had in the world. He knew that she had
loved him; and it was the loss of that love that made him
feel so terribly alone in the world now that she had been
taken from him.
Tears ! Unmanly though they were, they stung their way
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VICTORIA GRACEN 81
into his eyes, and sobs such as never had been allowed to take
possession of him since babyhood now shook his strong young
frame. For a time his desolation rolled over him like the
darkness of the bottomless pit.
Then suddenly, when he grew quieter, a loud peal from
the door-bell sounded through the empty hbuse and echoed
up to him.
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CHAPTEE II
Miss Yiotobia Gbaoek sat before the open fire in her
pleifeant library, under the light of a softty-shaded reading-,
lamp, with the latest magazine in her lap, ready for a luxuri-
ous evening alone.
Miss Oraeen, always a pleasant picture to look upon, was
especially lovely against the setting of this room. The walls
were an indescribable color like atmosphere, with a dreamy
border of soft oak-trees framing a distant, hazy sky and
mountains. Against this background a few fine pictures stood
out to catch the eye.
The floor was polished and strewn over with small moss-
brown and green rugs, and the furniture was all green willow
with soft green velvet cushions; even the luxurious couch with
its pillows of bronze, old gold, and russet, and one scarlet one
like a flaming berry in the woods. Every piece of furniture
stood turning naturally toward the hearth as though that
were the sun ; the dancing flames of the bright wood fire played
fitfully over the whole room, lighting up the long rows of in-
viting books behind the glass doors of the low, built-in book-
cases.
Miss Gracen herself, in her soft lavender challis frock,
with the glow of the lamplight on her abxmdant white hair,
seemed like a violet on a mossy bank, a lovely, lovable human
violet. Her face was beautiful as a girl's, in spite of her
years; and the brown eyes under the fine dark brows were
large, luminous, and interested.
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VICTORIA GRACEN 28
People said she lived an ideal lif e^ with her fine^ old house
fidl of rare mahogany furniture^ priceless pictures^ and china;
her carriage and horses; three old family servants — of whom
the kind is now almost extinct — ^to keep all in order and
wait upon her; and plenty of money to do what she would.
She had nothing in the world to trouble her, and everything
for which to be thankful.
Yet, as she settled herself to the reading of the latest chap-
ter of her favorite serial, she was conscious of a sense of rest-
less dissatisfaction and of an almost unreasonable longing to
have a companion to enjoy with her the story she was about to
read.
She looked up with a welcoming smile for old Hiram, who
tapped and entered with the evening mail. It was a relief
to speak even to the old servant when she was in this mood.
A fleeting whim that perhaps, after all, she would run in and
see some neighbor instead of reading just now passed through
her mind as she held out her hand for the mail; but when
Hiram said it had begun to rain a little, she put the thought
aside and settled down to open her letters and enjoy the even-
ing beside her own bright fire.
There were bills for putting the furnace in order for the
winter, and for mending the slates on the roof where the big
tree fell during a simmier storm. There was the winter^s
calendar for the Woman^s Club ; a notice of the next Ladies'
Aid meeting, with a reminder that Miss Gracen was chairman
of the refreshment committee; a request from the president
of the missionary society that Miss Gracen would read a
paper on '^ The New China '^ at the next monthly meeting; a
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24 THE OBSESSION OP
request for a donation from a noted charity in the near-by
city; and a letter from an old college-mate whom she had
invited to take a three months' trip abroad with her, saying
that she conld not possibly be spared from her family this
winter.
There was also a single newspaper.
Miss Gracen went through them all hastily^ keeping the
letter from her friend till the last to enjoy; but she laid it
down with a disappointed look. Somehow the letter was not
what she had expected from her old chum. It expressed
gratitude, of course, for the royal invitation; but it seemed
by the answer that the possibility of accepting it had scarcely
been considered; the mother's heart was so full of her chil-
dren that she had not even wanted to go with her old friend
for three short months. The rest, the delight of travel, and
the reunion with her friend, were as nothing to her compared
with losing three whole months of care and toil and love out
of her home life. Well, it was natural, of course. It must
be great to have folks of one's own; but then, they were also
a care. One could not do as one pleased ; still — and the wistful
look lingered around Miss Oracen's mouth as she reached out
her hand for the newspaper in a soiled wrapper, wondering
idly what it could be. It was not the night for either of the
weekly papers she took regularly, and the daily evening paper
from the city came to her door-step by the hand of a small
boy at five o'clock in the afternoon.
" Marked Copy " was scrawled in the comer of the wrap-
per. What could it be? Some notice of her last paper at
the club that had crept into a city paper and some one had
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VXCTORIA GRACEN 25
sent to her ? No, it was a Chicago paper. She had no intimate
friends in Chicago. How strange ! It must have got into her
box by mistake.
She looked at the wrapper again, but her name was written
quite plainly in a scrawling, cramped hand. There could
be no mistake.
She hastily turned the crumpled pages to find a mark;
and her heari; gave one quick throb out of its natural course
as she saw the black marking around a tiny notice in the
column of deaths. Yet why should she be agitated? There
could be no near friend in that locality. It was nearly four-
teen years since the telegram had come telling of her brother
Dick's death, and since then Chicago had held no vital interest
for her.
Yet there it was, her own name, Gracen, with the ink-
scrawls about it; and something tightened around her heart
with a nameless fear she could not xmderstand. Yet of
course IMck's wife, — ^that wife that her father had not been
willing to recognize because the family was a common one, and
beneath his son socially, educationally, intellectually, every
way — ^she was there. If Miss Gracen had thought anjrthing
at all about her, it had been with relief that the tie that bound
the unknown girl to them was broken by her brother's death.
It would have been no more than natural for her to marry
again, and the name of Gracen did not seem in any wise to
belong to her.
There had been a child. After the death of her father
and stricken mother, Victoria Gracen had written, offering
to take the child and have him educated as befitted his father's
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26 THE OBSESSION OP
scm ; but the offer had been ungracioxisly declined. The illiter-
ate scrawl of the mother had reminded Miss Oracen of the
low growl of a mother lion she had once heard in the Zoologi-
cal Gardens when another lion came near the cub. She
could remember yet the wave of mortification that had rolled
crimsonly over her face as she read, and resented the name
signed to that refusal. That woman had no right to that
name, no right to her handsome young brother, whose face
they had never seen after he went from them in anger the
day his father refused to recognize his marriage with the
foolish, pretty girl.
Yet there the name stood in clear print, with all the
dignity of death about it. Death, the leveller of all ranks
and stations:
Lilly Miller Graoen, widow of the late Richard Pierson Gracen.
Relatives and friends are invited to attend the funeral on Thursday
at 2.30 from her late residence, 3452 Bristol Street. Interment in
Laurel Cemetery.
It was a simple enough statement, in the time-worn terms
of such notices; but it strangely stirred the soul of the
woman who read. The very name *^ Lilly '^ in connection with
the family name of Gracen was an offence. It brought to
remembrance the photograph of the silly, pretty girl-bride
that Dick, her brother, had sent home to them when he had
written to tell them he was to be married. The name " Lilly,''
with all its pretense and lack of dignity, seemed to express
in a single word the sharpness of the sorrow of those bitter
days.
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VICTORIA GRACEN 27
Miss Gracen had come out from under the cloud of sorrow,
and had made her own life sweet and calm again ; but she had
never quite forgotten the beloved brother who had gone so
suddenly out of it, nor had she ever forgiven the woman for
whose sake that brother had left father and mother and
sister.
And now the woman herself, it seemed, was gone ! And
what had become of the child, the child that was Dick's as
well as hers? \
As if to answer her question, she noticed a rude hand
pointing to another column, where a brief paragraph was
also marked:
Mrs. Lilly Miller Gracen, widow of the late Richard Pierson
Gracen, died on Wednesday at her home on Bristol Street after a brief
illness. Mrs. Gracen was a sister of Peter Miller, of 18 Maple Street,
head foreman in the slaughter-house of Haste Brothers, and had since
her husband's death kept a lodging house on Bristol Street. She
leaves one son; Richard.
It was a strange item to creep into a great city paper
when one considered it to be about an obscure lodging-house
keeper, but it never occurred to Miss Gracen that it might
have been put into the paper and paid for by the obnoxious
family of the dead woman just that it might reach her eyes.
If Peter Miller had been well acquainted with Miss Gracen,
he could not have well planned a paragraph which would have
been more mortifying to her family pride. A slaughter-
house I A lodging-house ! And in connection with the his-
toric name of Gracen. The haughty pride wounded, the
blood moxmted in rich waves to the roots of Miss Gracen's
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28 THE OBSESSION OP
white hair^ and receded^ leaving her pale and trembling^ almost
breathless.
For a few minutes she was filled with a strange weakness,
as though she had been publicly brought to shame; for so
bitter had her father been against the woman who had un-
wittingly come between him and his beloved son, that he
had succeeded in making his whole family feel it more or
less, although, as Miss Oracen in the silence of her thoughts
had often owned, it was an utterly unfair prejudice; for she
had never even seen the face of her sister-in-law, except in a
photograph.
But now the woman wae dead, and a strange sadness came
into the heart of her patrician sister-in-law. False shame re-
ceded, and pity took its place. After all, the woman had been
proud and had maintained a certain courageous attitude, not
allowing them to give her money nor to take her child from
her after the death of her husband. A boarding-house keeper !
Miss Gracen in her sheltered home shuddered at the thought.
It had surely been a hard life; and death had probably brought
blessed relief.
And that child, a boy of sixteen now I What must he be ?
What was to become of him now? Would he go to live with
that uncle who was foreman in a slaughter-house, — ^horrible,
brutal creature ! — and sink back to the level of his mother's
family — ^if, indeed, he had ever been above it? Yet he waa
Dick's child, Dick's only son, and bore Dick's name in full,
the honored name of his ancestors for generations back, —
Eichard Pierson Gracen. How dreadful to have Dick's son
grow up to be manager or something in a slaughter-house I
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VICTORIA GRACEN 29
There were even worse depths^ of course^ than tiiat, to which
he might descend.
Well, what could she do? It was dreadful, of course; but
they had not accepted her offer of help when he was a little
child and she might have really done something toward bring-
ing him up rightly. Now he was probably impossible from
every point of view. She couldn% of course, have him come
to her now.
She looked around upon her pleasant room, the immaculate
furniture, the spotless peace that reigned, and found it quite
impossible to imagine a boy at home there. It seemed to
be an invasion of her rights that she could not bring herself
to endure.
And yet — ^her eye travelled back to the printed notice
in the paper. " She leaves one son,'' it spoke to her in re-
proachful tones from the coarse ink of the paper. ^^One
son 1 '' Left ! And suddenly the boy seemed to have taken on
the form and feature of his father as he was, bright-faced and
happy, bidding her good-bye so long ago; and tears filled her
eyes. Dear Dick I How she had loved him, and how much
he and she had always been to each other until that strange
girl-wife had come between them ! How Dick would feel to
have his boy grow up with such surroimdings I Ought she
not for her dead brother's sake to try to do something for
this orphaned boy of his?
But how? In that old, conservative town of her father
how could she bring an alien grandson, who might, perhaps, —
very likely would, — disgrace his memory and name? There
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so THE OBSESSION OF
were the servants, too, to consider; for they were getting old
and had been faithful.
And there was her own life. She had a right to live it
in peace, for had she not been faithful to her father and
mother and given up bright hopes for their sakes? Now at
least she had a right to enjoy herself as she chose. There was
her trip to Europe. She would have to give that up, too, for
of course she never could go off and leave a strange boy on the
place with only the servants. No, that was entirely out of
the question.
With a tightening of her sweet lips she folded the Chicago
paper quite determinedly, put it on the under part of the
table, and settled herself to her magazine serial.
She must have read fully half a column without letting
her thoughts really stray from the story, when the pleading
eyes of her brother Dick finally conquered, and made her
look around the room again, as if she almost felt his presence
there. She seemed to see a boy sitting across the table from
her; and his eyes were the eyes of her brother, and some-
how it suddenly seemed to be a very pleasant thing to have a
boy there, and not nearly so incongruous as she at first had
thought. With a warmer feeling at her heart she turned her
mind back again to her story.
She had not finished the first page when she finally
abandoned the magazine entirely, and closed her eyes for
serious thinking.
The little clock on the mantel was striking eight when
Miss Gracen got up with decision, and went over to her tele-
phone to send a telegram, pausing on her way to reach imder
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VICTORIA GRACEN SI
ihe table for the Chicago paper and search out the marked
notice.
After a moment's thought she first called up her local
banker^ who was also a personal friend^ and told him she
wanted to send some money to a friend in Chicago; could he
advise her where and how to place it?
He gave her the name of a Chicago banker who was his
friend, and gave her all necessary directions for the sending.
She thanked him, and hxmg up the receiver with interested
face. The first step in her project was now perfectly plam
before her.
The telegraph oflBce in Koslyn was closed for the night,
but she could telephone a message to the city twenty-five
miles away and have it sent through at once. Her mind
had worked swiftly, and she knew just what she meant to
say. Her voice was calm, almost eager, as she gave the call
and waited for the operator to take her dictation for two
telegrams.
When she hung up the receiver after the messages were
taken, her hand was trembling; but her eyes were shining,
and her lips had a sweet line of pleasant decision that was
most charming.
She started over toward her chair and magazine once more,
but paused with a look of indecision. Somehow her chair
and her magazine no longer fitted her present mood. She
must do something to get used to her new arrangements.
Her eyes travelled quickly about the room. How could she
make that room look inviting to a boy? Suppose he came,
and did not like it ? It would be worse than if she had never
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82 TEE OBSESSION OP
brought him home at all. Was it possible for her now, at the
age of forty-five, to take in a boy, any boy, even if he were a
model, and assimilate him with her present life? And espe-
cially a boy against whom she was prejudiced; could she
possibly be any kind of a guardian to him? Would it not
have been better, after all, to have left him to his mother's
relatives?
But no; she could not, would not, retract now. What
she had done, she had done. She realized that it had been
the hasty action of an impulse; but she would stand by it
to the best of her ability, come what would. Perhaps, after
all, the boy would elect not to come, and settle the matter
for her. Then she could feel that at least she had done her
duty. But with this thought came one of anxiety. Was it
possible that she really desired to have Dick's boy come to her,
invade her home, and fill her life with new cares and per-
plexities? A kind of pleasant wonder over herself began to
dawn in her face.
With her eyes full of happy excitement she went quickly
about the room, moving the chairs, drawing a big easy Morris-
chair up to the light, throwing down a magazine open to a
picture of a baseball field, as if a boy had left it for a moment;
gathering the russet and green and crimson pillows out of their
prim stiffness, and throwing them in*pleasant confusion. But
still she was not quite satisfied that it looked like a room where
a young boy could live. She was trying to imagine how
it would seem to him, and was wondering whether he would
like it
She was too restless to sit down again, and with a look
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VICTORIA. GRACEN 83
of qniet enthusiasm she went out to the hall and up-stairs,
turning on the electric light in advance. Into each bed-room
she went on her tour of inspection, looking at the house from
a different viewpoint, the viewpoint of a boy of sixteen. The
guest-rooms, with their fine old furniture and solemn air of
rich gravity; he would never feel at home there. Her father's
and mother's room. Not there! They had hated him.
They would not have wanted him to come to their house,
though of course they must feel differently now. There was
but one other room on that floor besides the servants' rooms ;
and that was the room next to her own, the room that had
belonged to her brother Dick.
It was just as he had left it; his fishing-rods, books, balls,
and pictures were there. All the things that a boy of twenty
years before had cared for, the bird's nest with three eggs that
he had brought in when the old birds had been frightened away
by the workmen when the house was repaired; the wasps'
nest from the east gable ! She could remember the day when
Dick rigged up a pole, and cautiously detached it from the
house while she stood in the yard below and watched and gave
advice. She could not give the stranger boy that room, Dick's
room ! And yet he was Dick's boy, and that was just what
Dick would have wanted, she knew.
With one of her swift looks of determination she gave a
glance of surrender around the room, and, turning, went
down-stairs. Just an instant she paused in the wide doorway
of the great, stately parlor, swept her glance about, and
wondered whether that, too, would have to be sacrificed, then
went on to her own library, and, pulling the cord that was
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84 THE OBSESSION OP
still connected with the old-fashioned bell of the servants'
part of the house, she sat down with the magazine in her
lap, but a sparkle of expectancy in her eyes.
In a moment old Hiram limped up to the door, and
opened it.
^^Hiram,^* she said with a pleasant smile, just as if she
were going to ask him to put another stick on the fire, " I'm
expecting my nephew to visit me. I wish you would tell
Molly and Eebecca that I'd like my brother's room got ready
for him to-morrow. He may be here very soon; I am not sure
yet — ^in a day or so, I think."
There was nothing in Miss Gracen's voice to indicate that
she was saying an xmusual thing, save the suppressed excite-
ment in her eyes; and the old servant bowed quietly enough,
and turned to go, though one might have noticed that his
hand trembled as it touched the door-knob. But just as he
was about to close* the door he opened it a trifle wider, and,
putting in his respectful gray head, said reverently, '^Is it
Mr. Dick's child you're expectin'. Miss Vic? "
'^ Yes, Hiram," and Miss Gracen answered his look with
a smile of indulgence. He and she had suffered together in
the days of the elder Dick's banishment; but it was not a
matter to be discussed, both knew.
*' The Lord be praised. Miss Vic," said the old man again,
reverently. "I knowed you'd do it sometime, Miss Vic; I
knowed you'd do it."
Miss Gracen looked earnestly at her servant.
" His mother is dead now, Hiram. She would not give him
up before. I have sent him word to come. I do not know
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VICTORIA GRACEN 85
yet what he will say, but we are going to get ready for him.
Tell Molly and Rebecca.''
The servant bowed, and w^it with shining eyes to tell
his fellow-servants, while Miss Gracen lay back in her chair,
and felt as if she had done a hard day's work. Would it pay,
she wondered, or was it possible that she might be sorry for
what she had done?
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CHAPTER III
The peal of the bell startled Siehard into attention.
Could it be that his nncle had really followed him, and
meant to carry out his threat of compelling him to work in
that loathsome slaughter-house? His whole soul revolted in
horror. Of course he must work somewhere now, he supposed,
but not there !
He arose quickly, and stole through the haU to the front
window where his mother had so often watched for his late
home-coming. He must find out at once who was ringing
that bell.
Softly pushing up the window and looking out, he saw a
messenger boy in brass buttons, with a book and a pencil
in his* hand, impatiently looking up at him.
^*What do you want down there ?^' he called out inhos-
pitably.
^'Telegram,*' answered the boy tersely.
"Guess youVe made a mistake. There's no telegram
coming here,'' answered Richard decidedly, preparing to shut
the window.
"It's the number all right," said the boy with bold
assurance.
" Well, it's a mistake. Whaf s the name ? "
" Richard Pierson Gracen," drawled the boy, getting dose
to the street-light to see.
Richard thumped the window down, and hurried wonder-
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VICTOEIA GRACEN 37
ingly to the door. Could it be that his uncle had resorted
to a telegram? Surely he would never spend a quarter un-
necessarily. Or was this a ruse to get him out of the house,
and was his uncle in hiding behind the comer ready to seize
him?
He opened the door warily, kept his foot braced against
it and his ears alert, while he signed his name with the stubby
pencil against the door-frame, and drew a sigh of relief when
the door closed on the impatient messenger boy.
He stole softly back up-stairs to his mother^s room again
with the telegram in his hand, wondering who in the world
could have sent it. It very likely was something about a bill,
and wouldn^t be worth lighting the gas to see. However, no
one from the street could see the light in that room, and per-
haps it would be as well to read it.
He closed the door, drew the wooden shutters close, lighted
the gas, and with a curious apathy sat down on the edge of
the bed to tear open his first telegram.
'* Dear Dick,'' it read, *' I wonder if you and I
don't need each other. Suppose you come and make
me a visit, and perhaps we can find out. Come as
soon as you can, and tel^raph me when you will
arrive. I have only just heard of your loss, and
am deeply sorry for you. Of course you will have ex-
penses to meet, and I know it is not always easy to
get money immediately at such a time; so I am
placing five hundred dollars in your name in the
Dearborn Trust Company Bank for you to use in
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88 THE OBSESSION OP
whatever way you may need it. It will be there
for your use by to-morrow morning. If you
need more, just let me know. Buy a through ticket
and a sleeper, and check your baggage to Eoslyn.
I hope you can come at once.
" Your aunt,
Victoria Qbaoen/' ^
Bichard felt his senses reeling as he read, so that at first
he scarcely took in the sense of the words. He had to read
it over again before he grasped the full meaning of this
marvellous telegram, about which the most marvellous thing,
after all, was its length and the fact that it had been pre-
paid. How could any one have the temerity to send a tele-
gram of that length when the prescribed number of worcls
was ten?
'^ Gosh 1 '' he ejaculated softly to himself.
The boy sat quite still, and stared blankly at the paper
in his hand, while the dim gas-light from the worn-out
burner flickered fitfully in the room, and the steady ticking
of his mother^s clock sounded loudly through the empty old
house.
But the boy heard it not, for he was undergoing a change,
and chief among his sensations was a desire to tell his mother
what had happened.
True, his mother had always felt bitterly toward this
aunt, who now invited him to visit her and hinted that per-
haps they needed one another. True, his mother had always
declined any help or suggestion from one who had scorned
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VICTORIA GRACEN 89
her as a sister-in-law, and he was proud of his mother for
having done so. It was the one fine quality besides her love
for him and for his father which linked her with aristocracy
in his vague and unformed mind, this pride of hers that had
caused her to work so hard to keep her child rather than to
give him up, or to accept any help from those who had always
despised her.
But she was gone now, and his situation was indeed des-
perate. His mother's family were not at all to his mind,
nor the situation they were trying to force upon him. His
mother had never seemed to want him to be with his uncle,
even though he was her brother. He had an instinctive feel-
ing that she would not want him to go with his uncle now.
She had once sighed that she was unable to send him to col-
lege, as his father would surely have wished. He hadn^t
cared much about college himself, at least not for the sake
of the education; but he remembered now that his mother
had always wanted better things for him than just a mere
place in the world to earn his living. Would his mother,
now that she was gone, want him to hold out against his
father's family? He thought not. Besides, it was a choice
between going to work in the slaughter-house and run-
ning away if he did not accept this invitation of his aunt's.
Bichard found himself longing inexpressibly for the
sympathy, the thoughtf ulness, the tmderstanding, that seemed
to breathe itself into the words of this telegram, though boy-
like he did not realize it,
" I wonder if you and I don't need each other."
When had anybody ever needed him before. Not even his
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40 THE OBSESSION OF
poor, toil-wom, worried mother. The tdegram implied that
the writer was lonely, and his own lonely heart went out in
quick response to the appeal.
Then there was another great thing. She had anticipated
his penniless state, and had known how he would feel about
paying expenses and things. She hadn't said a word about
it, but had spoken just as if this money was his own, right
from his father. She had conveyed that soothing impression
to his queer, proud boy-heart. He wouldn't be accepting
charity; it was his, placed in the bank without waiting to see
whether he would do as she had asked, and plenty more if
he needed it.
He could now pay the undertaker's bill; he could get a
stone for his mother's grave, and could pay the long-stand-
ing grocery bill which had secretly mortified him beyond
any of his childish troubles. He fairly hated the sneer on
that grocer's face as he came and went by the store daily.
The man had refused to let him have a chicken for broth
for his mother the day before she died, and had said that
he never expected to get a cent for all that she owed him.
Bichard hadn't blamed him so much for not giving him the
chicken, but for the cold contempt in his face as he gave
the denial he hated him. It gave him great comfort now to
think that he could pay that bill. It was something
more than a hundred dollars, but it should be paid, every
cent of it.
His heart went out with gratitude toward his unknown
aunt who had made it possible for him to hold up his head
and pay his debts. There were other debts, too, debts of
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VICTORIA GRACEN 41
*' honor '' he called them, for sodas and cigarettes and games
that his mother did not know how to play, and his instinct
taught him that his aimt would not approve; but she had said
he was to use the money for what he needed, and he could not
go away without making it right with the boys. It wasn^t
much. A few dollars would cover it, and he must treat them
all handsomely to ice-cream and maybe a supper before he
left. They had been loyal friends of his always, even when
he hadn't a cent in his pocket and could not get a chance
anywhere to earn anything. His mother had worried about
his friendship with them, and his xmcle had openly told him
he was on the highway to destruction by associating with
them; but they had been good friends to him through aU
sorts of scrapes, and they were all the friends he had left,
unless perhaps this unknown aunt was going to prove to be
one.
A sudden wave of curiosity and gratitude made him
read the telegram again, just to be sure it was all true. It
sounded like what the fellows would call ^^pipe dreams.^'
Yet there it was, all perfectly clear and plain. He knew
where the big stone bank was, in the heari; of the city, and
the next morning he could go and present his claim and
put it to a test.
He liked the thoughtfulness of his axmt in suggesting a
sleeper. A sleeper for a boy ! His imcle would sneer at that,
and call it extravagance. But he would take a sleeper. He
would have the experience; it was what his whole soul had
been hungering for all his life, experience. He would have the
experience, he would accept the invitation, and then if he didn't
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42 THET.OBSESSION OF
like it there he could go away. His aunt suggested that it
was an experiment^ and it suited him well to take it just as
she put it. He thought her a rather jolly good fellow for hav-
ing put it just that way. It laid no obligations upon either
of them^ and yet gave him a chance to like her if he chose.
That she might not like him never occurred to him, so egotisti-
cal is youth; and, indeed, at that time it is doubtful whether
he would have cared.
After a brief deliberation over the telegram Bichard arose^
accepting his new situation calmly, and went about making his
plans.
He searched out a small trunk in the attic, which some
bankrupt boarder had left for his board; and into this
he put the few articles that he cared for in the house. He
found the hiding-place of his despised pictures and pen-
nants, and put them in first; he examined his clothing, and
decided that he would need two new suits if he was to
make a visit, and he, would see about those in the morning
if the money was on hand; he put in his mother's old Bible
and a small, faded photograph of his father; and his pack-
ing was done.
He then lay down to sleiep.
His first waking thoughts were dazed, and filled with the
sudden remembrance of the shadow of death, and the sickening
horror with which the realization of loss always comes after
sleep. Gradually remembrance came to him. For a minute
he felt sure that telegram had been a figment of his im-
agination, a dream of the night; but on turning over he
felt the rattle of the paper; and, springing up quickly, he
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VICTORIA GRACEN 43
threw open the shutters, letting in the morning sun; and
there were the words just as he remembered them. A strange
glow of pleasure filled him at the thought that his aunt
needed him, and his answering heart told him that he needed
her — or some one — ^most mightily.
He dressed quickly, and hurried down-stairs, hauling his
trunk to the front door that it might be ready for the ex-
pressman when he came for it. With a glance of almost
pathetic loneliness around him at the only home he had
ever known he hurried out of the front door, and slammed
it behind him, going straight down the street to the little
comer grocery.
The grocer frowned as he looked up from weighing out
sugar and saw him coming in, but Richard walked straight up
to him with a new dignity in his face.
"Mr. Bitzer,'^ he said in a clear voice, "I want to pay
my bill here this morning. Can you have it itemized for me
when I come back in about an hour ? ^'
The insolent snarl on the man^s face melted into a look
of astonishment.
"Fou want to pay the bill?'' he said incredulously.
"You ain't got any money to pay any bill. Where'U you
git the money?''
" I will be back to pay the bill in about an hour if you
wiU have it ready for me," said Richard haughtily, and, turn-
ing on his heel, went out of the store. His heart was boiling
with rage that a man had ever the chance to think of him
with such contempt for lack of a little money. He felt again
that strange thrill of something — ^was it gratitude? love?—
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44 THE OBSESSION OF
toward the woman who had understood and who had made it
possible for him to hold up his head before this man who had
always despised his hard-working mother because she was
poor.
His first goal was the bank, and with no thought of break-
fast he spent his last nickel to take a trolley down-town. It
suddenly seemed to him that he had a great deal to do, and
he was seized with a wild desire to get it over with and be off
before his uncle tried to stop him.
Arriving at the bank, he found a lot of other people
ahead of him, and himself obliged to stand in line. He felt
himself grow small as he saw business men cashing large
checks for hundreds of dollars, and rolling the bills together
as carelessly as if they might have been ones instead of
fifties.
He was within two of the window when a new diflBculty
presented itself to his mind. The young man ahead of him
was evidently a foreigner who spoke little English, and was
having trouble to get what he wanted. '^ You must be identi-
fied,^' the cashier was explaining; and finally, after numerous
shakings of the head, the poor fellow had to turn away with
his check imcashed.
That was something Eichard had not thought of, identifi-
cation. What should he do? His uncle could, of course,
identify him or get some one else to do so; but Eichard did
not want to ask this favor of him. He had a strong feel-
ing that his xmcle, if he knew of it, would find a way to
get that five hundred dollars into his own possession xmder
the plea that he would pay the bills himself and take care
of the rest for his nephew.
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VICTORIA GRACEN 45
Richard resolved that until he was safely out of the city
his uncle should know nothing about that money. He set his
lips more firmly, and decided to find some other way out of his
dLBBculty. Would the telegram, he wondered, be sufficient
identification?
With fear and trembling he put on a calm face, and took
his turn in the line at the window,'the open tel^ram in his
shaking hand.
"Will I have to be identified?^' he asked, quietly hand-
ing the telegram to the cashier. " I want to draw some of
that money."
The cashier looked at him sharply and then at the tele-
gram, and just at that moment another man walked breezily
up to the window behind him, and in a pleasant voice said:
"Why, good morning, Richard. What are you doing way
down-town this morning? Do you have a situation down here
now?*'
The cashier looked up quickly, and greeted the newcomer
as if he were well known, as indeed he was, being a prominent
business man as well as one of the stockholders of the bank.
His home was near to Richard's home, though in quite a
different neighborhood.
Richard in his little-boy days had nm errands occasion-
ally for him, and had for a time delivered his morning paper.
The charm of the man was that he never forgot the boy,
and had always had a smile and a pleasant word for him,
though it had been at least three years since Richard had
done anything for him.
The boy felt a glow of pleasure now at the recognition, and
he was just turning it over in his mind whether he dared
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46 THE OBSESSION OF
ask the man to identify him, when the cashier saved him the
trouble.
'^ You know this young man, Mr. Mintum ? ^^ he asked.
''He's Bichard P. Graeen, is he?''
'' Sure ! " said the big man heartily. " Tve known him
since he was a little chap so high. We're old friends. Any-
thing I can do for you, Richard?"
''That's all right then, my boy," said the cashier, nod-
ding assurance to the lad. " We have some money deposited
here for Richard P. Graoen, and we didn't know him; but
of course, if you can identify him, it will be all right,
Mr. Minturn."
"Yes, I can identify him," said Mr. Mintum heari;ily.
" Got some money coming to you, have you, Richard? That's
good news. Take care of it, and use it wisely. I guess you
will, all right."
Then he turned to speak to another new-comer, leaving
the boy with a glow of pleasure in his face and immense relief
at his heart.
Five minutes later he walked out of the bank with more
money in his possession than he had ever handled in his life
before, and a brand-new bank-book and check-book in his
pocket.
He had thought it all out before he went to sleep the
night before, and decided to pay the big bills in checks. He
enjoyed the thought that he had a bank-account and could pay
in checks like any man.
He had drawn out only money enough to use for his im-
mediate needs; but they included his ticket and berth, some
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VICTORIA GRACEN 47
new clothes^ food for the day^ and enough to pay his litUe out-
standing debts to the boys; so the stun he carried made him
feel exceedingly rich.
He went first to the station to buy his ticket and sleeper
berth and send his telegram. Until those things were attended
to he had no thought for breakfast. It was a wonderful ex-
perience to be buying a ticket for a long-distance journey for
himself. He watched with awe the ticket-agent stamping the
long strip of paper, and took it almost reverently into his
own hands, proudly handing out the crisp new bank-bills in
exchange.
He got the best berth in the first section of the through
train, and with his tickets safely in his breast-pocket he went
thoughtfully over to the telegraph ofiBce. The telegram he
must send was the hardest part of his day's work. He had
not been able to think what to say last night before he went to
sleep. He felt a shyness coming over him at the thought
of addressing the great personage who had so easily provided
him with money and a way of escape from his xmcle's espio-
nage. No words seemed quite fitting, at least not the words
that were familiar to him. But after getting a time-table and
inquiring most minutely about arrivals and departures of
trains he finally produced the following message with in-
finitely greater labor than any school composition had ever
cost him:
Miss Victoria Gracen,
Roslyn, Penn.
lieave Chicago 10.30 to-night. Reach Boslyn 6.30 P.K., Wednesday.
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48 THE OBSESSION OF
Here he had paused with puckered brow, and deliberated.
It seemed as though the occasion demanded some recognition of
his aunf s friendly overtures after the years of coolness between
the families. His boyish vocabulary was hard put to it for
anything along this line; but at last with desperation he
dashed off the rest, and sent his message before he would have
opportunity for further hesitation.
Hope we will get along all right. Thanks for the cash.
Dick.
He reflected afterward that it would have soimded a great
deal more friendly if he had said ^^ dough '' or '^ tin '^ instead
of ^' cash/^ but perhaps an aunt might not understand. He
had never signed his name Dick before nor been called that, —
the fellows had other and varied appellations for him, — ^but
he gladly accepted her attempt at intimacy by taking up the
new name. He had a suspicion, which afterward proved to be
correct, that she maybe xised to call his father ^^ Dick " ; and
in that case the boy welcomed it as a heritage hitherto
unknown.
The telegram and ticket off his mind, he began to realize
that he was hungry; and, as he was passing the station res-
taurant, the lure of coffee and the palm-guarded entrance
summoned him with all the power that that elegant and
mysterious realm had held for him from childhood. He de-
cided that for once in his life he would eat in the station
restaurant and have what he wanted from the bill of fare. He
had money of his own in his pocket, enough and to spare; why
should he not?
His wants were sensible, however. He ordered a beefsteak
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VICTORIA GRACEN 49
with fried potatoes, buckwheat cakes and maple-STrup, and a
glass of cream. Cream was five cents more than milk, and he
might have had cofifee instead; but he had never had enough
cream in his life; in fact, he had scarcely ever had any, and
he wanted to see now what it would really be like to drink
cream.
Eef reshed in body and spirit, he went out to pay his bills.
He was just boarding an up-town car when he caught a vanish-
ing glimpse of his uncle getting out of another car. He
could not be sure whether or not his uncle had seen him, and
he kept watching furtively from the back window, but saw no
sign of pursuit
It was queer for his imcle to be down-town so far from
his place of business at that time of day. Could he have
been tracking him? The fear made him feel that he must
Inake all possible haste, for he did not wish to be inter-
fered with until all his plans were carefully made. He must
get that trunk out of the house immediately, or his unde
might put a stop to his taking it at all.
He stopped at the comer grocery to get the bill paid, and
took much pleasure in the look of astonishment and dis-
appointment on the countenance of Mr. Bitzer when he took
out his new check-book and wrote a check for the amount
of the bill.
** I don't like to bother with checks,'' said the man crossly.
*' I thought you'd pay the money. How do I know you've
got money in that there bank ? "
He took the check slowly, hesitatingly, and looked it over
incredulously.
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50 THE OBSESSION OP
** Just call up the bank on the telephone/^ said Richard
loftily. ^^Ask for the cashier. Til wait till you get your
answer.^'
Eeluctantly the grocer went to the telepnone, and in a
few minutes came back with a sheepish look on his face and
the check in his hand.
" It's all right/' he admitted, and then, again reluctantly,
" Thank you.''
Eichard nodded gravely and went out saying softly to
himself, ^' Stung!" But even as his tongue finished the
word there came a queer choking sensation in his throat, and
he found himself wishing that he could tell his mother that
the troublesome bill was paid at last. Did she know, he won-
dered, in that strange, far-off place to which she had taken
her journey ; or might it be that she didn't care any more about
bills over there?
Well, he was glad to have it paid, anyway. It seemed like
making good his mother's honor, for something in his uncle's
taun,t the night before had strangely stirred the dormant
manliness of the boy.
The choking feeling was still in his throat when he xm-
locked the door of his home for the expressman to take out
his trunk; and something like tears were near to his eyes
as he gave a final glance back at the dingy, dismal rooms he
had known so long, and woidd perhaps never see again. A
great sense of loneliness swept over him as he slammed the
door shut and jumped up beside the expressman to ride with
him down to check his trunk.
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VICTORIA GRACEN 51
There was one more disagreeable duly to be done before he
could feel quite free. He must go to his uncle, get the under-
taker's bill, and pay it. He wished that after that he need
never see his uncle again.
As soon as the trunk was checked, he turned his face
resolutely toward the oflSce where he would be likely to find
his unde.
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CHAPTEE IV
When Richard opened the door of the room his uncle
called his '' ofl5ce/^ there were two men talking business with
Mr. Miller.
That gentleman looked sharply toward the door, and
frowned at his nephew.
" So you've concluded to come back have you, you young
jackanapes ?'' he said when the two men turned away to
discuss some matter together. '^This is a pretty time of
day to turn up. What do you think of yourself coming to
work at two o'clock in the afternoon? It's a wonder your job
isn't gone already. You sit down over there, and wait till
I'm done here, and I'll tend to you."
'^I didn't come to work," said Bdchard haughtily. *^I
came to get that undertaker's bill. Have you got it here?
I want to see how much it is. I'm going to pay it."
'^You're going to pay it!" roared his xmcle derisively.
''A lot you are! It'll be a long while before you save up
enough money to pay that. I guess you don't know how mucb
it costs to die. See there 1 "
He opened his wallet and took out the bill, flinging it at
the boy triumphantly. His harsh, coarse voice made Eiehard
shiver. It seemed as though it were trailing over his. raw
nerves.
The two men had come to some conclusiqfti, and his uncle
turned his attention to them once more. Bichard, taking ad-
vantage of his uncle's turned bttck, pocketed the bill, and
52
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VICTORIA GRACEN 68
quietly slipped out of the door into the street. In a moment
more he had boarded a down-town ear and was safe from
pursuit. When his uncle realized that he was gone, it would
be too late to do anything about it.
Richard weAt straight to the undertaker's, made out a
check for the amount of the bill, and asked for a duplicate
receipt. He desired his tmcle to know that the bill was paid,
but he did not intend to let the receipt go out of his own
possession. He did not realize that the check would be a
sufficient receipt.
The tmdertaker took the precaution to call up the bank and
ask whether the check was good, and then gave him the re-
ceipts as requested. Richard went straight to the waiting-
room of a department store, and wrote a letter.
It ran thus:
Uncle Miller:
I am sendmg you a duplicate copy of the receipted bill, to let you
know I have paid it. I have the original. I had some mon^ my aunt^
Miss Gracen, gave me, and I have paid all bills I know anything about.
I leave Chicago to-night; so you needn't bother any more about
me. My address will be Roslyn, Penn., in case you need to ask me
anything about the house.
Yours truly,
R P. GSACEN.
It took him a long time to write the letter, because there
were so many things he would have liked to say which he
knew for his mother's sake he ought not to say, and there were
so many things he did not want to say that his uncle would
naturally expect him to say, that it was pretty hard work.
When it was written, he discovered that it was almost four
o'clock, and he had had no dinner. He addressed the letter
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54 THE OBSESSION OF
and put it into his pocket. His plan was to mail it in the
station jnst as he took the train.
He decided that he would do the one other thing that he
had always heen longing to do and never had had the money
for — ^take a meal in the great tea-room up-stairs. It might he
extravagant for a person whose entire f ortime was well imder
five hundred dollars; but it couldn't do any harm just once,
and, besides, this was a day of great things. * He might per-
haps never come this way again and then the experience
would be impossible. He took the elevator to the tenth floor,
and dined in state amid polished floors, hot^house flowers, and
orchestral music; but somehow he felt lonelier than he
dreamed he could feel in that stateliness, and was glad when
the meal was over.
It was when he was going down in the elevator that he
remembered his plan to purchase some new clothes. He
must hurry, or the store would be closing. But, boylike, he
did not take long to make his selections. He chose a dark-
blue suit and a rich leafy-brown with a Norfolk jacket, and
decided to put the brown suit on for his journey; so his old
clothes went into the suitcase, and a half-hour later, to all
appearances, he came forth from the clothing department a
new boy. It was because of the glimpse he caught of himself
in the great mirror by the elevator that he decided on new
tan shoes and a soft brown felt hat. Before he was through
he had purchased socks, neckties, collars and cuflfs, and a lot
of other little necessities; and the suitcase was being taxed
to its utmost to hold them all.
It was just as he was passing out of the store, and nearly
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VICTORIA GRACEN 56
closing-time, that the darkness of the sky sent him back
to purchase a raincoat; and at the glove-connter he saw a
young fellow about his own age buying a pair of kid gloves.
He had never had a pair of gloves in his life that he remem-
bered, and it suddenly occurred to him that he would like
to have some; so they were added to his outfit. All together,
when he came out of the store in the gathering twilight, he
was a well-dressed fellow.
He took the suitcase over to the station and checked it,
reserving the raincoat for a refuge in case the threatened
storm came, and started out to find the " fellows.'* But again,
as his startled eyes caught sight of his iiew self in the window
of a great candy-store, in passing, he stopped astonished and
looked himself over. He really was a nice-looking boy. Why
hadnH he known it before ? It would have been a great com-
fort to him, helping him through innumerable embarrassing
places, if he had only known it was in him to look as well as
that. How he wished his aunt and uncle and his little cousins
could get a glimpse of him I Wouldn't they be astonished?
It would give his wounded pride a decided healing turn if he
could only appear before them for a minute dressed in this
way.
But he had too dear a remembrance of his uncle's face and
the grip of his hand to risk any such meeting. His uncle
hated the very thought of the Gracen family, hated him be-
cause he bore the name, and would never allow him to get
away to any member of the family to be pampered and petted
and made to hate his mother's family. There was no telling
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56 THE OBSESSION OF
to what lengths his unde might go if he knew what Eichard
was planning to do.
However, there would be no harm in letting Elsa see him.
His uncle would hardly be at home yet; or, if he were, he
would be in the house washing up for supper. He could easily
whistle for Elsa. He had done it before when sent on errands
by his mother. Elsa would keep his secret. She was the only
one of the family he had ever tolerated. As he thought it
over now, she was the only person in the whole city who
would miss his going very much; and she was a giddy little
thing, and would soon forget him. However, for the sake
of the times when she had taken his part and helped to
screen him from his uncle's wrath, he would go and say
good-bye to her. She was very fond of chocolates; why
shouldnH he take her some ?
He stopped at a large candy-store, and purchased a two-
pound box of chocolates, tied with a pink ribbon. As he
did so he felt like a millionaire; this was tndy the crowning-
touch.
His uncle's house was not far out of the way he meant
to take in his search for his friends; and, dropping off the
trolley-car at the comer, he walked rapidly around the comer
of the new street toward it. The sun was just setting, the
lights appearing as they had appeared the night before when
the carriages drove up to the door. The scene brought back his
own desolation so strongly that he. almost made up his mind
to leave the candy on the side window-sill and slip away
without being seen; but just at that nK)ment Elsa came out
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VICTORIA GRACEN 57
of the front door with her red sweater over her shoulders, and
ran toward the comer bakery.
She stared hard at Eichard in his new clothes, but did not
appear to recognize him until he spoke; and even to himself
his voice sounded constrained and queer.
" Hello, Elsa ! ^^ he said embarrassedly.
Elsa paused, and stared hard.
" Why, Eichard ! Is that you all dolled up so ? Ain't you
got the togs, though? Where'd you get ^em? '^ Her face ex-
pressed Tmboimded admiration, and Bichard's pride rose.
He was pleased to have produced so favorable an impression.
"I bought 'em,'* said the boy with a proud lift of his
chin.
A shade of anxiety came over the girl's stolid little face.
'*Say, Eichard, you ain't been stealing, have you?
Mother has been awful worried lest you'll get into jail, and
disgrace us alL She says if Aunt Lilly hadn't just died it
wouldn't be so bad; but if s such a disgrace to have you acting
this way just after the funeral, when everybody's noticing
everything."
The boy's face hardened, and a steely glitter came into his
eyes.
''No, I haven't been stealing, and I don't ever mean to
do any such low-down thing in my life. Whatever put that
into your mother's head, I'd like to know? She always
thinks the worst she can of everybody. Did you think that
about me, Elsa? Say, tell me honest; did you? "
He caught her by the arm, and glared at her in the soften-
ing twilight of the street till the child seemed almost fright-
ened.
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58 THE OBSESSION OF
"No, course not; honest I didn% Richard. I told 'em
I knew youM come back all right. I knew you wouldn't
steal.''
The boy's face softened again.
'^ Well, I brought you something," he said in a less harsh
tone; " but, if you were going to believe things like that about
me, I would rather throw every bit of it in the gutter than
give it to you."
The girl's eyes turned longingly toward the big, white box
of bonbons.
" You know I never thought such a thing, Eichard," she
pleaded.
"Well, look here; I'm going to tell you something if
you'll promise not to tell a word of it till to-morrow morning.
Promise?"
" Mayn't I tell I saw you, and what you gave me ? " she
asked with gloating eyes on the box; " and mayn't I tell about
your new do'es? You look awful swell. I wish they all
could see you."
"Yes; you can tell them you saw me and I don't care
about the clothes or anything; but you mustn't tell where I
got the money, nor where I'm going, imtil to-morrow morn-
ing. Do you promise?"
"Sure, I promise," said Elsa, jumping up and down
delightedly and holding out her hands eagerly for the beauti-
ful box.
" Well, I'm going to my aunt. Miss Gracen. She's sent
for me, and she gave me a lot of money to pay the bills; and
I've paid everything, and bought these clothes. Now don't
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VICTORIA GRACEN 59
you forget, Elsa; you^re not to tell a living soul till to-morrow
morning/'
"All right/' said Elsa, already beginning to imtie the
gold cord that held the paper. "But why can't I tell till
to-morrow morning?"
"Elsa! Elsa!'' called her mother from the front door;
and then, wrapping her apron aroimd her head (for she had
come straight from the hot kitchen), she stopped and stared.
To whom could El^a be talking? No one who lived in
that neighborhood, and yet there was a very familiar look
about him.
"Elsa, did you get that loaf of bread yet? Hurry in
here with it."
"0 my goodness!" said Elsa. "What'U ma say? I've
got to hurry. Good-bye, I won't forget I " And she was off
down to the bakery while her excited mother alternately called
and stared at the strange boy with whom her child had been
talking.
He was walking imconcemedly down the street and taking
a trolley right before her face and eyes, and could it be ? Yes,
no — ^it could not be; it wa& — ^Richard!
Alarmed, she rushed down the steps; but the trolley was
under way now, and the motorman could not see her. Richard,
smiling scornfully, stood on the lower step of the trolley,
and actually had the impudence to tip his beautiful new
brown hat to her as he vanished out of sight around the comer !
Of all things 1 Her wrath boiled high; and she stood staring
after the departing trolley and wondering what her husband
would do now to that boy. The upstart ! Dressed up like that
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60 THE OBSESSION OF
and riding on trolleys like any dude, when his poor mother
was just buried I
Elsa, hurrying back with her loaf of bread and trying
to peer into her candy-box, almost ran into her mother, and
was greeted with a volley of questions, which she answered
by opening the wonderful box of bonbons in her astonished
mother^s presence and announcing that Eichard had* given
them to her. All that evening she smiled serenely to herself
over her chocolates, and answered not a word to their angry
questioning. She would reserve her announcement till the
morrow, and she felt it would lose none of its dramatic
features by waiting. She was a keen child in many ways,
and Bichard had managed to impart to her somewhat of the
spirit of the " gang ^' in being loyal to him. Moreover, she
had an eye to other possible chocolates. That last was in the
blood, and she could scarcely help it.
Eichard, as they rounded the comer, caught sight of his
unde coming up the street, and quickly vanished inside the
car, thankful that he had escaped, and very soon he changed
cars, which made pursuit impossible.
He was not long in finding his gang, who duly admired his
clothes, but were a little inclined to be jealous and sulky until
he proceeded to hand them out the money he owed them,
to the last penny, when everybody grew exceedingly happy;
and the leader of the group proposed a supper in honor of the
occasion. Eichard declared that was just what he had come
to invite them to; and, as most of them had not overeaten
at their evening meal, they were ready to go with him imme-
diately.
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VICTORIA GRACEN 61
Bichard himself was not himgry. Somehow^ now that the
time had almost come for him to leave his native haimts^
he b^an to feel a strange shrinking and loneliness. The day
had been filled with excitement and xmnsual occurrences; and,
when he came to sit down among the rest, he was mortally
weary. So it was that his gay talk and langhter were missing
as the jokes passed ronnd the table, and their challenges
brought no answering banter from his lips.
'^ Eich is all in to-night/^ whispered one to another; '* do
you s^pose ifs 'cause the old lady croaked ? '*
And the strange part of the remark was that, though
the expression was most horribly irreverent and uncouth, it
was said in sincerest sympathy and was received as it was
meant.
'* Sure ! " said the other comrade heartily, with a sympa-
thetic glance at fiichard. '^ He'll be all right one o' these
dry rains.'*
It was not till almost the last minute that he told tiiem he
was going away. It was characteristic of their code that they
had not questioned him about his money and new clothes.
They knew he would tell what he wanted them to know when
he got ready, and not before. They would have done the
same themselves. So now they listened as he told them
briefly that he was going out to see his aunt, and might stay
if he liked it; he didn't know.
Their faces were sober for a moment, but not with sorrow
for his going. At that age they acknowledge no such thing
as regret. They were each envious of his chance to see the
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62 VICTORIA GRACEN
world and wear those clothes and spend the money they heard
jingling in his pocket.
They accepted his generosily, took chocolate and chewing-
gum galore at his expense^ and attended him pridef nlly to the
train at last, bearing his new sole-leather suitcase noisily aloft
on their shabby shoulders- They marched in to the sleeper
to the annoyance of the contemptuous porter^ who lifted his
discerning nose of contempt and lowered in vain his discern-
ing eyes to their shabby shoes. They were utterly imabashed,
and felt that they had as good a right as he — ^better, perhaps —
to stand there. Had not their comrade a ticket and a sleeper
berth ? They intended to make the most of it until the train
departed. And they were not even college boys 1 The porter
was sure of that.
They hung on until after the train had started^ and ran
noisily along^ flinging in paper wads^ cakes of chocolate^
anything, shouting at the top of their lungs; as tough and
uncouth as possible, and highly calculated to make the entire
earful look with disapproval on the young traveller taking his
first long journey.
And yet, when they were gone, Richard sat back alone,
and felt that he was deserted of all who knew him, alone in
the wide, wide world I
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CHAPTER V
That was a busy day in the Gracen home following the
evening announcement of Miss Victoria that her nephew
was expected. The old servants worked with a will, for
was not ^'Mr. Dick's '^ child coming home to th^n at last
after the long years of family alienation? Both Hiram and
Bebecca, his sister, had been in the family when ^^ Mr. Dick ''
was bom; and Molly, Hiram's wife, had been his nurse. It
had been a sad day for the servants when the young man left
his home forever. They had mourned as if he were their
own, albeit their loyalty to his mother and sister had been so
great that they had kept it to themselves for the most part,
and humored the irascible old father, to whom they had also
given deep devotion, while thinking him altogether in the
wrong concerning his son.
Molly and Eebecca were up early, giving the house a
thorough overhauling, and especially making the room next
to *^ Miss Vic's " sweet and inviting after its years of dosed'
idleness.
Not a book that was not taken out and dusted carefully,
not a fishing-pole or trinket of the elder Dick that was not
tenderly handled and displayed to its best advantage. There
were pictures of him everywhere about the room, taken with
his school friends, his baseball-team, in his canoe on the
creek; taken sliding down the great hill that started in the
meadow back of the house; taken skating on the creek with
his boy and girl friends. There was a large one with the
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64 THE OBSESSION OF
dawn of seriousness in his handsome eyes taken just before
he went away to accept that fine business offer in Chicago,
and it hung surrounded by the pictures of his college life.
Eeverently the old servants touched the frames as they wiped
off the dust, and more than one surreptitious tear was brushed
away behind the closet door that day. They worked away
with a will, and somehow contrived to give to the great
room an air of expectancy, as if a boy might be coming home
to it.
Old Hiram was doing duty with the carpets and rugs, and
between times rubbing down the '' colt,*' as the youngest one
of the great black horses was still called, although it was
several years since he had left coltdom. Hiram confided to the
coifs ears that likely Mr. Dick would want to ride him, and
he even went so far as to get down the elder Dick's saddle
and rub it up, brightening the stirrups and buckles and bit,
his face wearing a pleasant smile of reminiscence while he
worked.
All this was well under way before they knew whether the
boy was coming or not.
The Roslyn telegraph operator had gone to his lunch when
Eichard's telegram arrived; and so it was not until after one
o'clock, while Miss Gracen was eating her belated lunch, —
late on account of the extra cleaning that had been going on
that morning, — ^that the telephone rang and the boy's mes-
sage was repeated until every word was carefully copied
down.
The three servants crowded near the library door, re-
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VICTORIA GRACEN 65
gardless for once of cooling tea and chops that ought to have
been set in the oven until the lady returned, and boldly stood
to listen.
" I think he^s coming/^ said old Hiram, nodding his head
happily; '^ I think Miss Vic's voice sounded that way/'
Then, when she returned to the interrupted lunch, the copy
of the telegram tucked inside the bosom of her morning
dress and a smile of excitement and pleasure on her face,
instead of rapidly dispersing to the kitchen they stood forth
unabashed and eager.
" He'll be here to-morrow night at five-thirty," announced
Miss Gracen. '^ Hiram, you may meet him at the station,
with the carriage and both horses. I think I will see him first
at home. The boy may be embarrassed, and there might be
people around watching. I don't want to have any talk.
Molly, can you and Bebecca finish the cleaning this afternoon ?
Then you'll have plenty of time to do a little baking
to-morrow."
So for the first time in their long service they forgot their
relation of mistress and maid and grouped together around
her, planning a welcome home for the boy to whom all their
hearts went out with loving expectation.
Richard's first night in a sleeper proved to be anything
but a restful one. The strange sounds and the stranger
motion might have lulled his weary body to sleep sooner if
the excitement of the day had not been keen upon him. He
lay in the luxurious bed, wondering at everything that had
happened to him, and tantalizing himself now with the
thought that perhaps he had been disloyal to his mother
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66 THE OBSESSION OF
by accepting this money and going to his aiint. But then
came the thought of his father.
He knew that his father had anxiously desired a recon-
ciliation, but would not accept it imless his wife were recog-
nized equally with himself. But was not he the representative
of them both, and had not his aunt invited him as such? If
he found that she considered it otherwise, he could go away
from her at once.
Having settled so much, he fell into a doze, but was soon,
awakened by the slowing of the train and the calls of the
trainmen. He simply could not lie down and compose himself,
for were they not continually passing strange new places,
some of the names of which he could even read when they went
more slowly through the sleeping towns? They were places
of which he had often heard, and his interest was awakened.
It was so wonderful to pass the lighted streets, and see now
and again people here and there.
More than half the night he lay propped up on one elbow,
staring out the window and watching the wonders of the way,
but more and more this journey gave him a sense of deep
loneliness.
It was nearly morning when at last he slept and awoke
to the din of a great city station, having dreamed that the
train had been going in a circle and was back in Chicago
again, with his uncle and a long line of policemen waiting
at the station to meet him.
He was greatly relieved to find the station a great, strange
place, and that he was still on his independent way tm-
hindered.
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VICTORIA GRACEN 67
It was a new and embarrassing experience to get dressed
in a sleeper berths and he found that he was the last man
in the car to rise. He made his way to the buffet-car, and en-
joyed his breakfast in state alone, wondering what the fel-
lows and his uncle^s family would think of him if they could
see him.
The window held new sights indeed now, for they were
beginning to pass through the coal regions and over the
mountains, and the boy was all eagerness to see everything.
For a time this put his situation entirely out of his mind, and
.he forgot that ahead of him was a new and untried way,
which he dreaded more than he had ever dreaded anything
in his life.
However, as the afternoon waned, and he knew he was
nearing his destination, his heart began to beat hard and his
hands and feet grew cold with apprehension. Just what
he feared he could not put into words or scarcely into
lucid thoughts, but he knew that if he had the chance now he
would never have come. He would have run away — ^west,
north, south, anywhere — ^rather than face a new and unknown
relative, who might expect all sorts of disagreeable things
of him.
As the train came nearer and nearer to Eoslyn, he sat stiffly
in his seat, his fingers clinched, his feet braced, his jaw
set. He must go through it now, of course, but he would not
stay if he did not like it. Well, the running was still good,
and he could nm away here, of course, as well as he could in
Chicago.
This was his last thougljtfagitlSTtWin slowed down and
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68 THE OBSESSION OF
came to a fall stop at Boslyn^ and he knew that his time had
come.
''Best hurry out, young man," the porter adjured him.
"We only stop here for passengers or on flagging. You
ain't got no time to waste.*'
The porter caught up the suitcase from his cold, trembling
hands; and Kichard, with his new raincoat over his arm,
followed confusedly, and, descending the steps, immediately
foimd himself standing alone in a dazed condition upon the
platform of a pretty little station, with his train hurrying
wildly down the track as if angry at the moment's delay he
had caused.
The sweetness and quietness of the place, even with the
vanishing screech of the train yet in his ears, fell about him
like a mantle of peace. He had never been in so quiet a place
before.
The station seemed to have nestled down between softly-
rising hills; the tracks gleamed away and vanished in a
cut; and everywhere there was autumn foliage, glorious and
beautiful in the low sunlight of evening. Off at the right,
rose a sloping green campus, with academic buildings showing
their classic lines between tiie trees; and to the left were
pleasant homes all set in late greens, browns, crimsons, and
gold, with close-clipped hedges or open lawns and pleasant
streets stretching in every direction, all giving the atmosphere
of plenty — ^plenty of time and rest and comfort for all who
belonged there.
Eichard instantly had the feeling that he did not belong
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VICTORIA GRACEN 69
there, and east one more hopeless look after his unfriendly
train now vanishing in the cut.
But this was his first instanf s impression. In the next
second he became aware of a carriage and a pair of shining
black horses standing dose to the platform, and an old man
in dark-green livery approaching him. His first thought
was that this was a cabman asking him to ride, and he began
to wonder what he should do next. He instantly decided he
would not take a cab ; that would get him there too soon. He
would inquire the way, and walk, and try to get his mind
composed.
Then old Hiram spoke.
" This must be Mr. Dick, Fm sure,'' he quavered, respect
and glee mingled in his old throat. " I knowed you the min-
ute you stepped out, you look so like your father. We're
right glad to have you, sir, right glad to have you home at
last. We've been a-wearyin' to see ye these many years. Me
an' Eebecca an' Molly an' Miss Vic have. Just step right over
this way to the carriage. My! But you do look like Mr.
Dick when he was your age. I'd 'a' knowed you anywheres.
Just dimb right into the back seat; an' gimme your checks,
an' I'll see they bring your baggage right up. Just one trunk ?
All right 1 Here, Jim," motioning to the station hand, " take
this check an' see that Mr. Gracen's trunk is sent up im-
mediate."
The old man hurried up the platform to give the check
to the baggage-man, talking as he went; and Richard, amazed
and somehow comforted, sat waiting for him in the back
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70 THE OBSESSION OF
seat of the carriage, — his new suitcase beside him, marvelling
over his reception.
Was this what it meant to get home ? And who was this
amiable old man ? He had never heard of any living relative
but an aunt before. But perhaps there were otheiB. Who-
ever he was, the bo/s heart wanned toward him.
He looked at the satiny backs of the fine horses, their
long tails almost sweeping the ground, their noble heads
curved proudly, their harness gleaming here and there with
silver. He touched wonderingly the dark-green broadcloth
of the cushions he sat upon, noted the shining immaculateness
of everything, and realized with awe the lack of poverty. It
was so new, so wonderful, to have aught to do with really
fine, nice things, and have a right among them. For the
first time he recognized that it satisfied something in him
which had always seemed starved, some native longing, per-
haps, that he had not understood. But he was only a boy,
and did not think these things out in words; he simply felt
them.
Hiram came back smiling, followed by a battery of eyes
from the men hanging aroimd the station. It was the first
intimation that the town had had of a visitor coming to " The
Beeches,'^ as Miss Gracen^s home was called. Hiram was
enjoying the distinction of giving the loungers something to
wonder about.
Who, indeed, was Mr. Gracen ? They didn't know of any
other Gracen relatives. Why had he never appeared upon the
scene before? He was exceedingly young, just a boy. Whose
boy was he?
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VICTORIA GRACEN 71
The question started, speculation was rife. Hiram went
home serenely unconscious that he had untied the bag and
given the cat a good chance to jump out.
^* Well, well, well, ain't this just great, havin' you here at
last?'' exclaimed old Hiram, jumping in with agile move-
ments scarcely expected of his years.
He slowly turned the blacks with their heads toward home,
giving the bystanders a good chance to gaze at the handsome
young face of the boy in the back seat; but he failed to hear
the comment of an old resident as they drove slowly down the
street.
" By gum ! Ef that don't look jest like Dick Gracen did
the year he went ofiE to college ! "
Eichard was almost embarrassed by the attentions of
Hiram as they drove down the street, but he was too con-
fused to say much; and, indeed, Hiram did not require it.
He was only too glad to get a chance to indulge in reminis-
cences about the boy's father.
Sunset again, and long, slanting, red rays lit up the crim-
son of the foliage as the carriage turned into The Beeches,
and Eichard saw lights appearing in the windows. The house
stood far back from the street amid a grove of wonderful
beeches, approached by an avenue of tree-arched beauty.
There were soft shades on the lights, green and crimson, and
a glow of firelight that Eichard did not recognize, because
he had never known a fireplace in his home. Everything in-
dicated warmth, comfort, welcome; and yet the boy felt
again a great trembling through his frame and a distinct
desire to turn and nm away. Not that he would have done so
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72 THE OBSESSION OF
for worlds; but he realized that the coward in him was to the
fronts and he had much ado to hold him down from looking
through the windows of his eyes and showing himself to the
world.
The carriage stopped and the house door was flung wide
open, letting out a flood of light to mingle with the evening
shadows and long, slant rays of the sun.
Hiram threw open the carriage door, and lifted down the
suitcase. Dick climbed out, and for one absurd moment
recalled the look, of the culprits who climbed down from the
patrol-wagons in front of the city hall, looked wildly about for
a hope of escape, and seeing none, fairly bolted into the open
door of their prison that was to be. He felt as if he looked
that way himself now.
There were three women standing in the hallway, one on
each side of the door, two with long, white aprons and caps;
and just a little back of them, in the very middle of the hall,
under a great globe of light, with a gracious air of welcome,
stood another, a beautiful woman with white hair and young
eyes.
She stood with both hands held out to him, a smile on
her face; and to his bewildered vision she seemed the most
beautiful woman he had ever looked upon.
He stumbled in, and took her hand awkwardly, letting
her lead him into the library, past dim visions of great rooms
on either side of the hall, and knew she was saying kind,
welcoming things, and must be his aimt, but knew not what
words she was speaking.
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VICTORIA GRACEN 73
He felt the beauty of everjrthing about him without really
seeing it.
The air was pervaded with the odor of good things to
eat, and Molly and Eebecca appeared smiling in the doorway,
giving a reminder of the supper that was ready. The aunt
turned smilingly toward them.
" This is Rebecca,'^ she said to the dazed boy. " She and
Hiram were here when your father was bom; and this is
Molly, who was his nurse. They have been very eager for
your coming.^'
Eichard shook hands with both the women. He did it
awkwardly. He wasn^t used to shaking hands, and it came
hard.
^^ I made some spice-cookies for you this morning," said
Rebecca, smiling. '^Your father used to like 'em. Do you
like 'em, too?''
" Sure ! " said Richard, turning rosy red, and smiling in
spite of his embarrassment. Then they hurried him up-stairs
to get ready for supper.
There was stewed chicken, with plenty of gravy, on tiny,
little, puffy biscuits. There were more of the biscuits to eat
with red raspberry jam and clear currant jelly. There was
succotash such as the boy never had tasted before, made
of com sweet as a baby's breath, and queer red and purple
calico beans. There were delectable pickles, and mashed
potatoes without any of the dull, heavy lumps he supposed
always went with that sort of vegetable; and there was a
great glass of creamy milk foaming beside his plate. For
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74 THE OBSESSION OF
dessert there was floating-island white as snow in a costard
of delectable gold, and maple caka
But the tragedy of it all was that he couldn^t eat, because
something in his throat kept closing down and almost chok-
ing him.
He had just to sit and stare at the vision of his beautiful,
young, white-haired aunt, and wonder how he was to answer
her remarks.
Hovering over it all, like two old beaming angels, came
and went Eebecca and Molly; with a glimpse now and then,
through the door of the butler's pantry, of Hiram handing out
more eatables. It was all a wonderful dream, and Bichard
wondered sometimes whether he were not really asleep and
whether this was not the reason that he could not do justice to
the good things. He never had had a meal like it in his life,
and he could not realize that all his meals were to be pretty
much on this order after to-day. He just could not realize
anything at all.
After supper his aunt took him back into the library, and
he sat on the edge of the Morris-chair, and tried to act polite
while she talked to him; but presently he forgot all about
having to be polite, because she was talking to him about his
father. She told him how he used to study and play, about
his taking music-lessons, and being captain of a baseball-team,
and doing great feats in college; how he looked the last time
she saw him ; and a great many other wonderful and interest-
ing things, just fragments of them, for she did not go into
much detail with anything, only sketched bits of scenes that
made Kichard eager to hear more.
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VICTORIA GRACEN 75
And the boy never knew that she was talking against tears,
trying to keep them from her eyes and from her voice because
he brought back so vividly the face and form of her dear lost
brother.
Then presently the little dock on the mantel chimed nine
in a silvery tone, and his aunt stopped, smiling, and said she
knew he must be tired and that he ought to go to bed right
away.
She went up-stairs with him herself, and showed him
li^here to switch on the electric light, and pointed out to him
the white-tiled bathroom just across the hall, with its silver
trappings and its wealth of splendid towels; showed him
the pictures of his father on the walls of his room, just to
make him feel at home; and then, with a half -wistful hesita-
tion, she paused at the door and after a second said a sweet,
cheery good-night, with a wish that he would sleep well in his
new room.
She was gone, and he looked about in wonder; the daze
began to wear ofiE a little. He realized that he was terribly
tired, and his eyelids smarted with the light. The choking
sensation was growing in his throat, too, and he craved more
than anything a chance to lie down in the dark, to be alone,
and think.
He did not linger to look around, more than for a glance
at that great picture of his father on the wall. He knew it
looked like himself, though it seemed far handsomer than he
could ever hope to be; but the look in those young, bright,
kindly eyes was one that seemed to understand him; and,
added to all that he had gone through, it was the one thing
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76 VICTORIA GRACEN
more that he could not bear. The choking in his throat was
nnbearable. Why had he missed having a splendid father
like that?
Swiftly he undressed, and, turning ofif the light, crept
into the great, lonely bed, burying his face in the pillow. He
despised himself for it, but sobs shook his body and gasped
in his throat; tears hot and fast blurred themselves into the
pillow. He did not know what he was crying for; he only
knew he was crying, shamelessly crying like a baby, and all
because of a strange, unbearable something that yearned in
his breast for a love he had never had. This, this home and
kindliness that were offered him now, he did not seem to fit;
it could never really belong to him. He had missed it all,
and was alone, alone, alone !
He did not know how long or how short a time it was that
this unforgivable emotion held him in its grasp before he
heard soft steps coming down the hall to his door, and a
gentle tap sounded through his muflBing pillow. He only
knew he held his breath to listen and wonder what he should
do next.
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CHAPTER VI
It was his aunfB voice that broke the painful stillness of
his dark room. ^'Dick, dear/' she called softly, "are you
asleep yet ? May I come in just a minute ? ''
He made a muffled sound in his pillow, not intending to
answer her at all; but she waited for no more; she opened
the door softly, and stepped inside, leaving the door ajar just
a crack; and it sent a keen blade of light diagonally across
the floor and wall, reflecting on her beautiful face and white
hair.
He had raised his head partly from the pillow in con-
sternation. To be caught crying by his aunt this first night
of his arrival ! This was too much ! What would she think of
him? A sissy-boy ! That was the most awful reputation any
boy could earn for himself. He would rather be thought any-
thing than a sissy-boy !
He held himself rigid, motionless in the darkness, and
tried to get control of his voice and act as if he didn't mind
that she had come in. Perhaps she only wanted to find some-
thing she had left in the closet, and wouldn't look toward
him.
But she came swiftly, softly, over to the bed in the dark-
ness, and knelt beside him, throwing one arm across his
shoulders as he fell back dismayed on his pillow and faced
her in the dark. She leaned her head over his, and whispered
softly :
*' I couldn't go to sleep without kissing you good-night,
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78 THE OBSESSION OF
Dick. I always used to kiss my brother Dick good-night.
Ifs been so many years now, and you are so like him ! You
wonH mind if I do, dear boy, will you? I had to come, and,
tell you how I love you. Dickie, Dickie, dear, how I am
going to love you ! *^
There was a .sob in her voice, and as she bent down to
kiss him the glint of light on the wall reflected on her sweet
face, and showed it all shining and wet. Why, she was crying,
too!
Then somehow Dick didn^t mind any more. He put up
his young, strong arms, flung them about her neck, and held
her tightly in a fierce boy grip; and thus they mingled their
tears together.
With her arms still about him, and her face close to his
as she knelt, she whispered softly:
*^ my heavenly Father, I thank Thee for send-
ing me this dear boy. Bless him; and make him
happy and good in this new home; and show me how
to love and help him every day; and may we be a
blessing to each other, for Jesus^ sake. Amen.^^
Eichard had never heard himself prayed for before. His
mother had not prayed with him beyond teaching him ^* Now
I lay me,'^ which prayer he had long ago outgrown. But this
prayer, coming as it did out of a loving heart, filled him with
awe, wonder, and a strange new happiness.
When it was finished, she kissed him on the forehead
again; and as she said, " Gtood-night,'' he gripped her hand,
and blundered out:
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VICTORIA GRACEN 79
"Tbanks, awfully I Pm glad I came. I — guess well —
get on — all right/^
It was a great deal for a boy like him to say. It was
equivalent to a hundred loyal speeches and kisses thrown in,
and it meant entire surrender. Perhaps her intuition taught
her by the thrill the tone gave her soul as she slipped away
and left him to sleep.
The boy lay back marvelling, and remembering. She
hadn^t4said a word about finding him weeping ! Yet she must
have known. She was ^^game'^ all right. She hadn't let
him know how she knew. Yet he knew she knew. She was
the real stuff!
What was it that made him fctel so different! Why, she
had said she loved him! She loved him! Nobody had ever
told him that before. Of course his mother had loved him ;
that was understood, but she wasn't the kind that talked
of those tilings. But this aimt didn't have to love him, didn't
have any reason to do anything but dislike him; and yet she
had gone out of her way to tell him she loved him! That
was great! And — why, that made him ielong ! He belonged
there in that house, because she Ictved him!
Then he fell ajsleep. He dreamed that he went to heaven
to tell his mother all about it; and she had smiled ^d was
pleased, and pointed out his young, handsome father just like
the picture on the wall.
When he awoke, it was morning, with the bright autimm
sun shining broad across his bed into the pictured eyes of his
father, regarding him kindly from the wall. He found him-
self filled with a kind of wondering ecstasy, as though he had
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80 THE OBSESSION OF
been changed into a new being and all the old things were
passed away. When he stopped to think why he felt this way,
he knew it was because his aunt had kissed him and told him
that she loved him.
The breakfast-table was a revelation. Set in a glow of
autmnn sunshine, the heavy linen, delicate china^ sparkling
silver, and cut glass made a deep impression upon his beauty-
loving nature. Never had he sat down to a breakfast-table
like this. People where he had come from sometimes fixed
up the table for a company dinner or supper, but to take
all that trouble just for breakfast started an entirely new
world for him.
In the centre of the table was a great bowl overflowing with
late pears, peaches, plums, and grapes. The oatmeal seemed
to have no relation whatever to the sticky mess that had gone
by that name in his mother^s boarding-house, and the cream
was rich and yellow. It made a delectable combination. There
were tender beefsteak, fried potatoes, and golden-brown com
cakes with thick maple-syrup. His mental comment as he sur-
veyed the first plate of cakes that Molly brought in was : " Gee !
but the eats in this house are grcSat ! I wish the fellows could
have some!'*
Bichard had been almost afraid to come down-stairs, lest
the recollection of last night should be embarrassing, but his
aunt met him with a smiling " Good-morning,'* and no hint
in her eyes even that there had been anything like tears or
prayers or kisses between them. It put him entirely at his
ease at once.
He looked with admiration at her in her pretty, pale-blue
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VICTORIA GRACEN 81
morning-gown with deep lace frills about her white wrists.
The sunshine made her white hair into a lovely frame for
her f ace^ and he f oimd himself wishing his mother could have
seen her once. He was conscious of a growing pride that she
belonged to him. He had never seen a woman of that age
so beautiful before^ and he had never connected loveliness
in any form with growing old. His aunt fascinated him, and
he found himself watching her every movement. He liked the
fine lines about her eyes and the modelling of her delicate
features.
Every line that the years had graven in her beautiful
flesh was a pleasant line, as if she had always thought the
best of every one. It filled the boy with admiring wonder.
He had not known, had never even thought, that any^woman
could be like that.
He went with Hiram to the stable while his aunt was
busy about her morning household duties, and took his first
lesson in harnessing the horse. The city-bred boy eyed the
horses with delight, and his face lit with joy when Hiram
showed him the saddle and spoke of his riding. He made the
acquaintance of the '^ colt,'' and took a brief lesson in saddling
him, mounting him, and riding around the stable-yard. He
finally drove the carriage up to the door of the house, his eyes
aglow with happiness. He felt as if he had suddenly been
snatched from the hard;, gloomy realities of the world and set
down in heaven, a better heaven than any he had ever imag-
ined for himself; and something of his own unworthiness of
it all looked out of his eyes as he smiled half shyly at his aunt
when she stepped into the carriage clad in a lovely long, soft,
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82 THE OBSESSION OF
gray cloak and a gray felt hat with white wings. He was both
proud and embarrassed to .be riding out with such a queenly
woman.
He rode behind with his aunt, and Hiram drove in the
front seat. Richard watched him eagerly, and wondered
whether he would ever be allowed to drive those two shining
horses by himself. His heart swelled with the very thought
of it, and Miss Gracen, watching his bright, eager face, with
keen intuition seemed to read his thoughts; for almost at
once she said:
'^ You'U like to drive the horses to the store and post-office
sometimes when Hiram is busy, won't you? Hiram, you'll
have to show Mr. Dick all about the horses. You know you
taught his father to drive.''
*' Yes, indeedy, so I did, Miss Vic," said Hiram, his face
lighting with the memory, " only he was a mighty leetle feller
when he fust held, the reins. I mind he used to sit atween
my knees, an' holt the lines behind my hands, an' holler an'
laugh, an' think he was drivin'; and his cheeks would be as
pink as one of Eebecca's posies in the kitchen garden, an' his
eyes as shiny as the stars.
** But I reckon this here Mr. Dick won't need much teachin'.
He's almost growed up. Beckon he knows how to drive 'thout
my teachin' him."
A wave of pleased consciousness rolled over the boy's face
in a faint flush, while he modestly disclaimed any equestrian
knowledge. Indeed, his knowledge of horses was confined to
driving a grocery-wagon occasionally on a Saturday when
there was a scarcity of hands; but he did not like to tell that
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VICTORIA GRACEN 88
to the dignified Hiram, who treated him as if he were a
gienttemaii.
It was a new and pleasant experience to be treated as if he
were wanted, and to be actually planned for as if he were a
}>art of the things of consequence. He smiled back at Hiram
with a pleased surprise, but said little. It was all too new and
wonderful to last, he felt sure; and his native caution, which
had been his constant safeguard all his life against the hard
brunt of an unsympathetic world, warned him not to commit
himself.
When these people found him out as he really was, saw
what commonplace gifts were his, and knew about his past
inclinations to wildness, they would probably not care to
bother any furtiier with him. It was the halo of his f ather^s
likeness, very likely, that made them care now; but they
could not in the nature of things keep it up. N'obody had
ever paid much attention to him, unless it was his mother,
and she scarcely ever had time. Well, he would enjoy it
while it lasted — ^and then?
But he had no opportunity to pursue his bitter thoughts,
for his aunt kept directing his attention to things and people
as they weut along.
Up there on the hill was the college. That was the dome
of the observatory showing through the trees; over there was
the Qamegie Library, and next it the gymnasium and dormi-
tories. A number of great men had been graduated from this
college, and it ranked well with others of its size. Over there
were the athletic groxmds.
These last were a second) thought. Miss Gracen had never
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84 THE OBSESSION OF
had much to do ^th college athletics. In her brother's college
days athletics had been in their infancy, and regarded with
doubt and suspicion by many thoughtful people sa being a
menace to high scholarship. Her circle of friends had scarcely
been one to change this impression, though of course she had
felt the general trend of thought of the day in regard to such
matters, and was a broad-minded woman.
But now she saw like a flash the lighting of the bo/s
eyes as she spoke of athletics, and went on to tell of games
that had been won from other large colleges, growing quite
enthusiastic in her telling. So Hiram was told to drive up
around the athletic grounds, and the boy feasted his eyes upon
the wide stretches of velvety, green turf and the generous
grand-stands.
Were there any games soon now? Football and basket-
ball must be at their height, he said; and his aunt shook her
head.
" Fm sure I don't know, Dick; we'll have to find out. I
suppose, if thafs the thing to be doing this time of the year,
our college is at it," she said; "but I know very little about
such things. However, we'll take means to discover at once.
Here comes our minister, and his son. Boys all know about
the games, I suppose. We'll ask."
She leaned from the carriage, and greeted the pleasant-
faced gentleman in a gray suit who was coming toward them;
but Richard's eyes were on the boy who accompanied him.
He was almost as tall as his father, well knit, with a homely,
freckled face lit up by the handsomest pair of wine-brown eyes
that Richard had ever seen. His hair, when he took off his
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VICTORIA GRACEN 85
rough tweed cap to speak to Miss Gracen, showed a deep,
rich red; and there was a reckless grace in his movements and
a mischievous twinkle in his brown eyes that made the other
boy's heart warm toward him at once. The newcomer eyed
the stranger curiously, as boys will, narrowly, sizing him up
at a glance. ^
**Mr. Atterbury, this is my nephew, Dick Gracen,'' said
Richard's aunt, leaning out to shake hands with the minister;
'* and this is Tom Atterbury, Dick,'' she said informally; and
the two boys awkwardly and gravely acknowledged the intro-
duction, each determined to be cautious in going a step further
with the acquaintance until he was at least sure of its de-
sirability.
" Dick was asking me about the games, and I couldn't tell
him," said Miss Gracen with a pleasant laugh. " I wonder if
you can enlighten us."
She looked straight at Tom Atterbury, and wondered why
she had never noticed before what handsome eyes he had. She
had always regarded him with a slight disfavor. He had a
name for being in all the mischief in town, and she had always
felt sorry for his father; but Tom's eyes softened her heart
toward him greatly, and she had a passing wonder whether
possessing a boy of her own would give her an interest in
all boys.
'^ Sure ! " said Tom Atterbury in a slow, drawling voice
and with a smile that lit his freckles into a pleasant, merry
face. ** Thejre's a game this afternoon, a big one. Our men
play against Carnegie Tech. Would you like to go? I'll take
you if you say so;" and Tom lifted a mischievous trium-
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86 THE OBSESSION OF
pliant eye of inquiry toward his strong-faced^ kindly
father.
"Now it happened that Tom carried under his arm a stack
of school-books^ and had just been undergoing a kind^ but
firm lecture on the subject of staying away from football-
games and studying up some of the things in which his reports
had been showing him to he sadly deficient during the past
month.
Tom had no deep interest in taking Dick Q-racen to the
game ; but he did have a consuming jdesire to go to it himself^
and he knew that he was striking his father in a weak spot
when he touched him on the side of parish work. His father
would want him to be kind to Mips Gracen^s guest of course,
and he would be willing to have hiTn go to the game
imder those circumstances, he was sure; and the kindly
response in his father's eyes showed Tom that he had judged
correctly.
In a moment more the arrangements were made, and Tom
Atterbury went on Ms way to his belated school-day with a
smiling countenance, to become the torment of his teachers
and the despair of the principal for the day, in honor of the
victory he had won over his father and the game he was so
soon to see.
Miss Oracen, however, sat back in her seat as the horses
started on again through the college campus, and found her
mind suddenly troubled. Here she had let that scamp of a
ToTn Atterbury make an arrangement to take her boy to a
football-game I How had she so blundered? How had she
been so blind?
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VICTORIA GRACEN 87
She had planned in the watches of the night how she
would introduce him to the boys who would be likely to be the
greatest help to him in every way, and perhaps steer him
dear of all the wickedness of the town, and keep him from
knowing the wild ones at all.
She had completely forgotten the minister's son* Of
course he had to be introduced, being the minister's son, but
he was the wildest of the wild, if all the stories she heard of
him were to be credited; and now she had put her Dick right
into his clutches the first one.
If Dick began to go with Tom. Atterbury, then none of the
oth^ nicer boys would have anything to do with him* There
was George Barry, who lived with his mother and waited
upon her so beautifully whenever they went anywhere; and
there was James Clovis, who had won the scholarship in the
preparatory school and had been chosen twice on the debatiog-
team; and there were the Jarvi» brothers, who worked every
summer in the bank to save money for their winter's schooling
80 that their mother would not have to work so hard. They
were all fine fellows. There was Brice Parker, the son •of the
burgess of the town, whose manners were perfect and whose
character was both strong and charming. These were the
companions she coveted for her boy. They all went to church
and Sunday-school, and attended the Christian Endeavor
Society regularly. They dressed well, and studied well, and
behaved well everywhere, and never had a thing said against
their reputations.
Tom Atterbury went to church and the Christian Endeavor
Society, too ; but he wep^ because his father expected it of him.
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88 THE OBSESSION OF
and he sat in the back seat if he eonld^ and made mysterious
noises that convidsed the little boys, who cheerfully bore the
reprimands for the sake of watching his antics. There were
notable pranks in the annals of the village years set down to
the credit, or rather the discredit, of Tom Atterbnry, the
penalties of which had been borne by the younger fry, but which
every one knew had been instigated and encouraged by the
minister's son; and rumor said that he grew no better as he
grew older.
Miss Gracen's soul was troubled more with every step
her horses carried her away from the minister and his scape-
grace son. How could she have been so thoughtless as to
introduce Dick to him the very first one? She might have
avoided it as well as not by telling Hiram to drive on quickly
and by merely greeting the minister with a smile and a
bow.
She had made a grievous mistake at the start. What
should she do to rectify it? She tried to think as they drove
to other places of interest; to the preparatory school, the
high school, the church, the bank, the post-office, and the
largest stores.
At last, after she had made some purchases and was back
in the carriage again, she suggested that perhaps Dick would
be too tired after his long journey to go to the game that
afternoon, and that> if he would like to have her do so, she
could telephone to Tom Atterbury and excuse him from the
engagement; but Eichard, beaming on her brightly, declared
he was not in the least tired and would be delighted to go
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VICTORIA GRACEN 89
to the game. He added that Tom seemed like a good sort of
fellow. He thought he should like him.
" He has a good father/' said Miss Gracen cautiously, with
a sigh of anxiety. *^I'm not sure that Tbm is always a
comfort to him.''
Eichard said nothing. He did not know much about
fathers or being a comfort to them. Her words made him
wince over the fact that he had never been a comfort to his
mother.
But he decided that Tom Atterbury was all right and that
they would get on famously. There were hall-marks upon him
that made him seem akin to the fellows he had left in Chicago,
and it made him feel less alone here to find a boy he could
understand. There had been the right kind of gleam in the
eye of the minister's son when he spoke of the game. Other
things didn't matter so much.
Miss Gracen, with many compunctions, watched her boy go
off that afternoon, in company with the minister's son, and
it seemed to her at the moment when they walked down the
front path together that a great weight of responsibility
settled down upon her.
The minister's son wore a rough brown Norfolk- jacket
fiuit that just matched his hair and his wine-brown eyes,
and there had been something altogether pleasing and en-
gaging about him as he tipped his rough brown wool hat
when he bade her good-bye and turned away smilingly to go
with Dick.
Something in her — ^was it her misgivings? — had turned
over in her heart as he looked at her, and suggested to her
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90 THE OBSESSION OF
that perhaps Tom Atterbury was not quite so bad as people
Baid; but still, when they disappeared behind the tall hedge
and she knew that Dick was to be under his influence for two
or three long hours, she turned away with the troubled feeling
that a hen with one chicken wears on her brow, and sat down
in deep thought to try to plan how to put Dick under good
influences.
She decided that really no great harm could be done
in one short afternoon, and she must expect to meet ou1>-
side influences and cope with them; neyertheless, she was by
no means at rest, and spent an hour in alternately seating
herself in deep thought and walking to the window to look
out, though she knew it was a long time before she could ex-
pect to see her boy coming back.
One thing was very sure ; she must have a good talk with
Dick that evening, and they must both know just where they
stood. Then her mind would be more at rest, and she would
know how to plan.
On her fifth trip to the window she saw a figure turn in at
the gate and hurry up the walk with a quick, nervous gait
She recognized it at once as belonging to Miss Lydia Bypath,
and turned with an impatient sigh. Ordinarily she was good
nature itself to this most unwelcome of callers, for she knew
and warmly loved the good side of Miss Bypath; but this
afternoon, with anxiety on her mind, and her talk with her
new nephew to plan for, she dreaded the bright, prying eyes,
the cattish flings, and the curious questions that she knew
she would have to meet
Miss Bypath had of course heard of Dick's coming, and
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VICTORIA GRACEN, 91
had come to inform lierseLf concerning the stranger in her
friend's home. There would not be a bit of tender heart his-
tory or family pride that would not be turned over and thor-
oughly aired before she was through with her subject. Miss
Gracen dreaded the encounter.
Hitherto she had been able to keep on the right side of the
Tillage gossip and critic by never doing anything that Lydia
Bypath disapproved and by beings always ready to listen sympa-
thetically to all the poor, little, narrow soul's grievances.
But by all tokens she knew, as she turned away from the
window and prepared to meet her guest with her most cere-
monious smile, that her own turn had now come, and that
she must meet it bravely.
Doubtless, too, the very thing that worried her most would
be burned into her soul with scorching sentences, for in all
probability Miss Bypath's sharp eyes had seen Dick go by to
the football-field with the minister's scapegrace son. Miss
Gracen girded up her strength, and went forth to meet her
unwelcome guest
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CHAPTER VII
Miss Lydia Bypath had thin lips^ eyes that bored like
gimlets^ though they were blue as the sea and had been pretty
in their time, and a nose that was always ready to sniff at
anything she doubted. She doubted almost everything that
was told her, but told it as truth to the next person she met.
She was slender and small, with an alert hiovement like a
sharp blackbird, and she always wore dull black clothes with
dazzly white lines near together. They seemed to reverse in
color the fine lines of dissatisfaction in her thin, pursed lips,
and up and down on her narrow forehead, vanishing imder her
gray, frizzy hair.
She came from a very fine old family, and had a patrician
tilt to her chin, and most delicate little hands; but poverty
and disappointment had so long been allowed to eat into her
soul that nearly all the sweetness and beauty were gone. In
their place had come only a most imworthy curiosity about
her neighbors for the still more unworthy object of finding
out whether they had been better treated by the world than she
had been.
She had a poor opinion of all men in general, especially
of husbands, a strong jealousy for all women, except perhaps
Miss Gracen, whom she strongly admired, and a dislike for
all young people and children. It was hard to find anybody
that Miss Bypath quite approved, and harder to say anything
with which she agreed.
So far no one but Miss Gracen, not even the minister,
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VICTORIA GRACEN 93
had been able to keep in her continual good graces; and now
Miss Gracen was abont to pass her first test by the sting of
this most accomplished village gadfly. Her solitary condi-
tion, her pride and poverty, the fragments of her lost beauty,
all appealed deeply to the sympathy of Miss Gracen, and
had so far helped her to be patient with Miss Bypath's
besetting sin.
The visitor perched herself on the edge of tlie Morris-
chair, as if to lean back were to capitulate to a weakness of
which she could not be guilty, and, having removed her cape,
gloves and " f ascinator,'* pursed her lips into a disagreeable
smiley and began:
" Well, Victoria,^' fixing her sharp, gimlet blue eyes upon
her victim, ^^Vyb come straight to you for information,
Tve always said, you know, that 'twas the only way to
find out the real truth — ^to go straight to the fountain-head;
and so I've come. I wasn't going to let anybody tell me
things about my very best friend and not know how to deny
them. I must say that I think you might have confided in me,
an old friend, but, of course, there may have been some ex-
cuse for your not doing it. You know best about that. How-
ever, I've come to find out before I said a blessed thing about
it to any one."
"Dear me, lydia, is somebody saying something about
me now?" said her hostess with a forced smile. "It was
good of you to come straight to me, of course; but, really,
don't you think ifs just as well not to pay any attention to
gossip? It dies down soon enough when people find out
there isn't any foundation for it."
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94 THE OBSESSION OF
She arose and placed a lovely bronze coshion behind
her gaeefs back^ rang for a cup of tea to be brought^ low-
ered the shades^ then settled down to what she now saw was
inevitable.
*^Te8, but Virginia, isn^t there any foundation? Isn't
there?''
The blue eyes pierced her very soul as if they would ex-
tract the information against the will of the other. The
two had gone to school together^ had lived as neighbors for
many years, and Victoria Gracen knew what she had to en-
counter.
" How am I to tell you, Lydia, when I d#n't know what
they're saying?" she laughed lightly, toying with a carved
paper-knife that lay on the table, and remembering with a
curious pleasure that Dick had been studying it just before
Ixmch. She marvelled at the hold the boy had upon her
thoughts already.
" They say," said Lydia, and her voice took on a terribly
sepulchral whisper that held both imprecation and implica-
tion, " they say that you have turned against your dead father's
wishes and have brought home the child of your brother, the
disinherited grandson. They say, too, that if you keep him
you will surely bring a curse down upon your home and your-
self."
Miss G-raoen sat up very straight, a bright spot of color
in her cheeks and her dark eyes shining with battle, an
almost haughty smile on her sweet lips.
**Eeallyl" she said, and then again, '^Reallyl" Then
she laughed.
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VICTORIA GRACEN 95
Bnt little Miss Bypath sat still, held her thin hands primly
in her lap, and drew in her thin lips until they almost van-
ished in a line of stem disapproval. She did not laugh. She
conveyed the impression that she was most deeply hurt by
Miss Graeen's laughter and that she considered it no subject
for merriment.
Then Miss Gracen suddenly grew sober and dignified.
^'Eeally, Lydia, I should scarcely think that was worth
noticing,^^ she said pleasantly. ^^It isn^t any one's affair
but my own, you know; and they can't bring any curses by
their absurd remarks.
'* If you really feel it incumbent upon you to say anything
about the matter, you may just tell them the plain fact that my
nephew, Dick, has, indeed, come to stay with me for a time,
how long or how short a time will depend upon whether or
not he likes to stay.
*^I would have had him long ago if his mother could
have spared him, but she could not see her way clear to do
that. Since her death he has been lonely and accepted my
invitation tbx^me to me. 1 hope we are going to be very,
very happy togefeer/'^
There was something in the sweet dignity of the hostesd
that prevented the sharp queries the guest would have liked
to make. Miss Gracen's tone said as plainly as worde could
have said that the subject was closed so far as she was con-
cerned.
Lydia Bjrpath suddenly found an unaccountable lack of
words wherewith to push her inquiries, though she was an
adept in prjdng out and exhibiting to the world other people's
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96 THE OBSESSION OF
private affairs. Now she could only shake her head ominously
and murmur:
" Well, I^m sure I hope you will ! I'm sure I hope you
will! But the prospect looks anything but likely to me!'
What was there about Miss Oracen's direct and simple way of
telling a few facts frankly that seemed to leave nothing fur-
ther to ask, although the eager questioner woiQd fain have
known a thousand other details, but had not the effrontery
to go further?
"Here is the tea,*' anno^nced the hostess cheerily, as
Eebecca entered with the tempting tray, on which were tiie
delicious rolled sand'wiches of brown and white bread for
which Miss Gracen's receptions were famous, and Lydia
Bypath dearly .loved, as well as the delicate almond cakes and
fragrant tea, with the choice of lemon or cream. It pleased
Miss Bypath that the choice was always given her, although
she invariably answered severely : '* Cream, of course. I'd as
soon put a pickle in my tea as lemon«'' Nevertheless, if the
lemon had not been on the tray, she would have felt that
Victoria Gracen thought her old-fashioned, and hadn't con-
sidered it worth her while to observe all the formality that she
always gave to Mrs. Elihu Brown and to Mrs. Norman Ccm-
stable.
Miss Bypath waited in grim silence, save for the usual
lemon-and-cream dialogue, until she had had her tea and
sandwiches and Bebecca had withdrawn. Then her voice took
on its sepulchral whisper again.
"You've taken an awful contract on your hands, Vic-
toria; and you'll be sorry, or I'll surely miss my guess," look-
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YOU VE TAKEN AN AWFUL CONTRACT ON TOUR HANDS, VICTORIA; AND
you'll be SORRY, OR i'lL MISS MY GUESS "
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SOCI£TY Llbi<ARY
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VICTORIA GRACEN 97
ing straight at her hostess. *' Boys are terrible creatures to
manage, and they will always disappoint you. I^m sorry to
have to tell you right at the stad; this way, but I consider it my
duly to put you on your guard before it is too late. Why, your
young scapegrace nephew is in bad company already. He
went by my house not half an hour ago arm in arm with
that good-for-nothing Tom Atterbury, and you ceri»inly
know what he is! They were headed toward the football-
field, and I said to myself, 'Well thafs the end of him,'^'
— ^as if football were . synonymous with evil ; — * 'Victoria
Gracen had just better send him right back to where he
came from as fast as he can go, or there'll be another dis-
graceful member of the family to worry her into the grave.'
I knew him by his close resemblance to his father. He has
that same reckless, daredevil black eye "
Miss Bypath here extinguished further speech in a delect-
able bite of rolled brown bread and lettuce, but it is doubtful
whether she would have continued further in her remarks;
for Miss Gracen had risen with an air of finality, her deep
eyes showing fiashes of fire that Lydia Bypath had presumed
never to see directed toward herself. She saw them now with
dismay, and shrank visibly before the look.
Miss Gracen stood thus looking at her guest scarcely a
second before she spoke; yet it seemed an sson to the pre-
sumptuous soul before her.
• Then she merely said :
*' Yes, I asked Tom to take Dick to the game. I want him
to feel at home as soon as possible, and there is nothing like
athletics to bring young people together. But, if you please,
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98 THE OBSESSION OF
Lydia^ we will not discuss my family any longer. Won't you
left me give you a little more tea? Fm afraid the cream
has cooled it.
'* By the way, did you know that we are to be favored with
Professor Hammond's lecture on Shakespeare at the next
Club meeting? Won't it be great to have him lecture for us ?
I hadn't dared even to hope for anything of the sort, be-
cause they said he had come here only to rest; but he told
Mrs. Constable he should be delighted to help us in any way
we desired."
Miss Bypath, for once meek, readily caught on to the
thread of the new topic of conversation, yet she realized
none the less that she had indeed been on the very verge of
dismissal, not only from the house, but from her friend's
regard forever. She had dared many things and she had
outraged many people, but never before had she been made
so thoroughly to see and realize the fulness of her offence;
and yet no verbal rebuke had been uttered. The remain-
der of her visit — €ind she stayed until the shades of even-
ing were beginniug to fall — she spent eargerly trying to
placate her dignified hostess.
Perhaps it was as well that Miss Gracen had no leisure
to worry that afternoon, for surely she would have worried
about the very thing Miss Bypath had suggested; but now
her soul was roused in indignation against the meanness of
the village gossip, and she began to find in her heart excuses
for the son of the minister. His wistful brown eyes haunted
her, and when, glancing out of the window as the dusky
shadows of the early twilight drew on, she saw the two boys
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VICTORIA GRACEN 99
coining down the street together, laughing and talking, a glad
smile broke out upon her face. Her boy was coming back
to her safe and sound. Nothing very bad could have hap-
pened to him in one short afternoon, although Lydia Bypath
had said that he was going to a football-game in the same tone
in which she might have told how fast he was going to
destruction.
Miss Gracen felt a sudden unaccountable sympathy with
the son of the minister, who had acquired a doubtful reputa-
tion, and wondered again within herseK whether all that people
said about him were really true, after all. Perhaps he was
not so bad as he was thought to be, and anyhow his father
was a good man.
When, a moment later, Bichard, not knowing that his Aunt
was entertaining a guest in the library, entered with his new
friend. Miss Gracen greeted him with an outstretched hand and
a sweet smile of welcome. A sudden desire to show Miss
Bypath how wrong had been her attitude toward Tom came
over her.
^*I^m glad you came back with Dick,'' she said. ^T. was
wanting to ask whether you wouldn't stay to supper. I'm sure
Dick would like it."
Dick's eyes lit happily.
'* Sure," echoed the boy. He hadn't been in the habit of
having friends home to supper. It was a new and delightful
experience.
'^ Why, I just came in to see some photographs Dick was
telling me he brought with him," drawled Tom in his soft,
hesitant, appealing voice; "but I'd like awfully to stay; only
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100 THE OBSESSION OF
dad said if I didn't come straight home and study I couldn't
go to another game this semester. But it would be just joUy
to stay. I'd like it awfully, Miss Vic."
Tom's brown eyes touched again the chord of sympathy in
Miss Gracen's already awakened heart. She determined to
have Tom stay, the more as she turned and saw Miss Bypath's
cat-like eyes of disapproval fixed upon her, and suddenly
realized her duties as a hostess.
'^ Excuse me. Miss Bypath," she said, turning toward her;
^^et me introduce my nephew, Eichard Gracen of Chicago;
and Tom Atterbury of course you know."
There was that in her tone that made Bichard feel as
though she had introduced the son of a millionaire, and his
face flushed with pleasure. He liked his aunt for the defer-
ence she paid to him, a mere nobody of a boy.
He shook hands with Miss Bypath with an easy grace that
astonished his aunt; and Miss Bypath was quite overwhekned
for the moment, though she could not forbear a jab of advice
as she submitted her reluctant hand in greeting.
^'I'm sure I hope you'll turn out to be a comfort to
your aunt in her old age, and not bring trouble the way some
boys do."
With the keen instinct of youth the two boys knew im-
mediately that Miss Bjrpath had been talking about them
to Jlisa Gracen, and Bichard seemed to feel, for the first
time since he had entered his aunt's house, the reproach
of what his father had done, while Tom's face took on the
tullen^ dogged expression of the hunted one of whom no
me ever thought any good.
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VICTORIA GRACEN 101
An angry wave of color rolled over Richard's face, and
he felt something throbbing and choking painfully in his
throat. His fingers involuntarily clinched themselves, and
he lifted his chin proudly in a way that his father used to have
when he was hurt, which went straight to the heart of his
aunt.
Instantly Miss Gracen stepped to Richard's side, and
slipped her hand lovingly, confidingly within his arm, putting
the other soft white hand gently over his fierce clinched
fingers.
^' Dick is a great comfort to me already," she said con-
fidently; ^'and I am sure we are going to have delightful
times together.''
She felt his fingers relax at once under her touch, and
saw with relief his wondering eyes turn to her with a pleased
look. She smiled, and his face lit up with something beautiful
to see, that the boy himself scarcely imderstood. It was a
strange experience to have any one take his part, or show
any outward sign of caring. His mother had been too meek
and tired to answer back when his aunt and uncle blamed
him for anything. He knew she cared, of course; but she
never said so. He was surprised to find how sweet it was to
have some one care.
Tom, meanwhile, was looking on surprised, his own ex-
pression changing back to wistfulness as he saw Miss Gracen's
smile of understanding. He was glad for the other boy,
glad tiiat any one understood a boy as she seemed to do.
Miss Gracen looked up, and caught his glance, and reached
out her hand to him also.
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102 THE OBSESSION OF
*'Now, Tom, she said with one of her bright, happy
smiles, as if the other matter were entirdy settled and for-
gotten, ** would it do any good, I wonder, if I were to tele-
phone your father and ask him to let you stay for supper?
You could go straight home and study afterward, couldn't
you? And you wouldn't be able to do much between now
and supper-time, you know."
Tom's freckles melted into smiles. The sinking sun shot
out a parting ray through the long west windows, and laid a
touch of gold upon his deep-red hair, making the boy really
attractive. Miss Gracen's heart went out to him in earnest
now. If thifr boy was wrong in some ways, might he not
be helped to be right? At least> she would get acquainted,
and find out. If he was to be guarded against, she must
know what she had to guard against.
Tom laid a rough red hand confidingly, wonderingly, on
her white one, as he would have laid it on the head of his
favorite collie, that loved him. It was his way of responding
to Miss Gracen's kindness. He was pleased beyond measure
at what she had done, and especially in the presence of this
crabbed, sharp-eyed woman who had always seemed to have
an especial spite against him.
** Oh, I'd like it just awfully. Miss Vic," he said grate-
fully, " and I'm most sure father wouldn't refuse you. That
would be just fine — ^if he only would let me stay. Yes,
sure, I could go right home afterwards and study. I'd
study hard, too."
*' Then I'll telephone at once," smiled the hostess.
But Miss Bypath made herself felt at that instant with
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VICTORIA GRACEN 108
her most effectiye sniffy as if to say tiiat this was no company
for a respectable woman like herself; and to the relief of all
she made a stiff adieu, and took her way home, declining
coldly the offer of company, though Miss Gracen suggested
sending Hiram with her.
When she was gone. Miss Gracen went to the telephone,
and talked with Tom^s father, who reluctantly consented to
allow him to stay to supper; and the two boys went noisily and
happily up to Richard^s room to make ready for the evening
meal.
**Gee! but that woman Bypath makes me tired,^' said
Tom as he followed Richard up-stairs. ** Father says she
makes him more trouble in the church than any five other
members put together. I'm glad your aunt didn't ask her to
stay to supper. She never did like me, and she'd put one
over on me whenever she could.
"Say, your aunt is all right, isn't she? I always did
like her, though I never knew her Yerj well. Father thinks
she's just great."
Richard's face had darkened at mention of Miss Bypath,
but it lighted with a tender smile when his friend spoke of
Miss Gracen.
^*Yes, she's pretty fine, all right," said Richard, half
bashfully.
"She sure is! She's a peach! " proclaimed Tom, as they
entered Richard's room and closed the door.
The echo of their voices had come down to Victoria Grac^i
as she stood still beside the telephone, wondering whether,
after all, she had done the right thing; for she feared lest
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104 THE OBSESSION OF
she had let herself be carried away by her indignatioii with
Lydia Bypath, and had perhaps fostered an intimacy with
this wild boy, who would do her boy no good. But, when she
heard the unqualified approbation in the young voices, and
realized that it was herself who was being discussed in these
strange boy-terms, her heart beat with a wild thrill of happi-
ness. She was not very familiar with modem slang, but
she had discernment enough to know that when Tom Atter-
bury said in that tone that she was a '* peach ^' he couldr give
her no compliment higher, according to his way of thinking;
and she resolved to hold and keep his admiration if possible.
Like a flash her common sense showed her that, while she
might •have made a mistake in introducing her nephew to this
boy in the first place, he would have had to m«et biTn some-
time, and it was better for them to meet in Eichard's home
and under her companionship than out and away from her
knowledge.
It was notlikely that the boy who had come to her had been
brought up in pink cotton so far. He might indeed, for aught
she knew, be even a more dangerous companion than the much-
talked-of Tom. At all events, she would keep Tom^s friendli-
ness now that she had it, and see whether there was any way in
which she could help him back to the confidence of the neigh-
borhood.
It was with this in view that she sat down to her well-
spread table and prepared to be as fascinating as she knew
how for the sake of these two boys.
The supper table was very pretty in its usual whiteness
of fine linen, its glitter of silver and its shimmer of cut glass,
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VICTORIA GRACEN 105
and the effect of it all was just as strange and just as won-
derful to the boy from the parsonage as it was to the boy
from a forlorn little Chicago boarding house. There was a
great bowl of roses in the centre of the table, and touches
of old rose showed here and there on thei beautiful soft gray
gown that Miss Gracen wore.
Tom suddenly became aware of the largeness and redness
of his hands as they protruded from his last year's sleeves,
that were too short. However, he was not much used to
worrying about his appearance; and Miss Gracen and Bichard
were so hearty in their expressions of pleasure at his being
there that he soon forgot his hands, and made himself so
agreeable that Miss Gracen in her turn was surprised and
pleased.
She decided that people had judged Tom without know-
ing him. He certainly had charming ways, and a wistful
fashion of looking at one that appealed tremendously to the
heart.
The roast beef was of a quality that seldom came the way
of the parsonage, where the meagre salary was always in the
process of stretching itself to cover the multitude of needs of a
family of seven. There was custard pie, plenly of it, with a
crust like flakes of snow, a golden luscious centre, and browned
to a perfect cinnamon tinge on the top. Also, Miss Gracen not
only offered, but urged, two pieces on the hungry boys; and
Tom, whose methods of obtaining the second piece at home
were not always the best, was overwhelmed at such open
bounty.
The conversation finally fell on football; and the hostess.
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106 THE OBSESSION OF
who had never been to a football game in all her life, and
had indeed shared the feeling of more than half the vil-
lage that it was a terribly useless and dangerous waste of
time, b^an to see an entirely different side to the ques-
tion. She saw the eagerness with which both boys entered
into the merits of the game they had witnessed that after-
noon, describing the different plays, denouncing or prais-
ing this or that player, rejoicing that the home college
team had won. She asked questions, and the boys pro-
ceeded eagerly to instruct her, using the salt and pepper
bottles to illustrate the different plays and an olive for a ball.
Even Bebecca lingered in her waiting, watching the little
green ball m#ve from one pepper bottle to another as Tom
gave a demonstration of the game that afternoon ;^ and Hiram
was seen to apply one eye to the crack of the door of the
butler's pantry, both servants beaming over the good cheer
that had so suddenly come to the home after the long years of
silence.
Miss Qracen's eyes were bright and her lips smiling with
interest as she began to understand the game, and she laugh-
ingly agreed to go with the two boys to watch the next big
game that was played in town, wondering furtively what
Lydia Bypath would think of her now, to be contaminated with
football at her age.
But then probably the boys would forget all about it be-
fore time for the game to be played; and it pleased her that
they had asked her.
'^ I haven^t had so pleasant a tea-party as this since my dear
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VICTORIA GRACEN 107
brother went away/' she said happily, as they rose from the
table. ^' Indeed, you must come and see Dick again, Tom.''
And with a sudden loving thought she reached over, selected
two of the most beautiful buds from among the roses, and
pinned them to the boy's coats before they left the dining-
room.
As he made his adieu, Tom Atterbury came impulsively
over to his charming hostess; and, putting both big, rough
hands confidingly on her sleeve, he said in his most win-
ning drawl :
" Miss Vic, I want to thank you for that dinner. It cer-
tainly was simply great. I'm awfully obliged to you for in-
viting me to stay."
With that look in his brown eyes Miss Gracen's heart was
entirely won over to champion the cause of the minister's wild
young son.
" I'm glad," she said brightly. *' Then you'll come often
again. And now you must study hard all the evening, as you
promised, so your father will be willing for you to come the
next time."
"All right, I will, I surely will. Youll see, Miss Vic.
I'll bring my report-card down to prove it to you next week,
when we go to that game."
He bade them a laughing good-night, and Miss Crracen
turned away from the door with a qualm of conscience. What
had she done? Committed herself to a standing friendship
between her nephew and this youth who had hitherto been con-
sidered dangerous? Nay, she had done more. She had even
encouraged it.
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108 VICTORIA GRACEN
But a glance at the look of deep admiration in the eyes
of Biehard as she closed the door made her forget all in a rush
of joy that she had this boy. Her home was no more lonely;
she had some one to love; and something in his eyes told her
that he was not averse to loving her. She slipped her hand
within his arm^ and so they walked back to the cheerful light
of the library fire.
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CHAPTEE VIII
'^ITiCB fellow he is/^ said Dick with a shade of em-
barrassment in his voice. He didn't know how to talk to a
lady yeiy well. His aunt was so delicate in her make-up
and so dainty and refined in her dress that she filled him
with a sort of awe.
" He does seem nice, doesn't he ? '' said Miss Gracen, watch-
ing him thoughtfully. ^^He has the name of being rather
wild, but I couldn't help liking him to-night. Perhaps he has
been misjudged."
^ Hardly anybody's as bad as folks think they are," vouch-
safed the youthful Sichard with a frown, remembering his
own case and how he had been, as he felt, misjudged. ^^ I'm
not any angel myself," he added belligerently. ''I don't
s'pose you'd have asked me here and done all you have for me
if you'd known all about me."
He turned and looked at her half defiantly, as if he would
give her opportunity even now to withdraw her kindness and
send him back to his own place.
It had come — ^the opportunity she had been longing for
and dreading, — ^the opening to have a personal talk with the
boy for whom she had become responsible. She knew she
must not let it slip, and that it must be talked out to the
finish, faithfully, patiently, and with infinite wisdom. She
put up a breath of prayer for help, while her heart began to
beat wildly. Never in all her quiei^ well-ordered life had
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110 THE OBSESSION OP
she met with a task more difficult and more xmequal to her
experience.
Pressing her fingers gently on the boy's arm, she said, after
a moment's searching, tender look into his eyes:
*^That wouldn't have made any difference, Dick. And
it doesn't make any now. You are my dear brother's child,
and as such I wanted you. Now that you are here I love you.
Whatever you are, I shall have to bear with. If you choose
to do wrong, I shall have to suffer."
The boy's eyes grew cloudy with moisture. He had never
heard anything like that speech in his life. It touched him,
comforted him, and made a baby of him all in one.
" I don't want to make you suffer," he growled in a choked
voice, lowering his eyes and half turning away.
A sudden great joy sprang into Victoria Gracen's eyes.
*' Dick, dear, thank you ! I don't believe you're going
to. Sit down and tell me all about it, won't you? I think
we have made a good beginning."
They had come into the library, and were standing in front
of the fire; but Bichard drew away from her, and brushed
his hand hastily and angrily across his eyes as though the
lights hurt them; then he leaned his elbow on the mantel, and
rested his forehead on his baud so that his face was shaded
from her view. He made no move to sit down, and his very
back was eloquent of deep disturbance.
" I'd better go away," he growled out at last. '^ I don't
belong hera I'm not fit to be in a home like this. Don't
you suppose I know it? I knew it when I came, I guess. I
could tell from your telegram you were different. Mother
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VICTORIA GRACEN 111
was a good woman^ and didi the best she coxdd; but she wasn't
like you. And Fve knocked around a lot and done a lot as I
pleased. You wouldn^t like what IVe been, I know, and I
ought to go away right off. I^d better go at once before iVs any
harder.^*
A choke in his voice, ended the speech; the boy dropped
his head on the mantel, and his shoulders drooped piteously.
The heart of the woman went out in great motherliness, and
she felt the tears filling her own eyes. She got up from the
chair in which she had been sitting, and came and stood
beside him, putting h^ hand shyly, unaccustomedly on his
thick brown hair.
"Dick, dear, didn't I tell you that I love you? Didn't
I tell you that doesn't make any difference ? I'm going to keep
right on loving you in spite of everything you may say you
have been. Can't you understand that ? This is just as good
a time as any for us to understand each other. Come, sit
down, dear."
With ready tact she drew a chair opposite her own low
one in front of the fire, and turned out the lights in the room ;
fSr the fire was burning brightly, and soft^ flickering leaps
of light and shadow played about the walls and floor and on
their faces. She had seen that the boy was stirred to the
depths of his nature, and readily guessed that the talk would
be less embarrassing for him if his own face were not sub-
jected to the glare of the bright electric lights.
He dropped into the chair she had drawn, and watched
her furtively, his brows attentive, his eyes full of a growing
admiration. She made a charming picture there in the fire-
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11* THE OBSESSION OF
light, the play of shadow over her soft, gray dress, and the
light glowing in the touch of rose color and illuminating her
white hair and sweet face. Eichard, as he looked, thought he
had never seen any one so lovely, not even a young girl. And
this beautiful, motherly, understanding woman loved him, and
wanted him!
His soul was filled with a deep comfort such as he had
never known before, and he found himself wishing his mother
knew about it.
Miss Gracen began by telling a little story of her brother
Dick and some escapade of his which had put him into dis-
grace. She pictured herself and her brother sitting in this
very room talking it over, and told the younger Dick how she
had loved her brother in his trouble, and wanted to protect
him, because she felt that he was truly sorry, though his elders
did not seem to be thoroughly convinced of it.
Perhaps what she said might not have been considered
wise by trained educators and psychological experts; but she
followed the promptings of her heart, and was perfectly frank
with the boy. She felt that what they needed first was perfect
confidence in each other, and then they could go ahead.
" Now, Dick, dear,'* she said as she turned from the inci-
dent of his father, *' I'm getting to be an old woman ; at least,
I'm on the way there; and I don't suppose I'm very wise. I'll
not be able to do all for you that your father would have done
in helping you to be a splendid man; but I thought if we could
just begin by being good friends, and always perfectly frank
and true with each other, it might make things easier. I'd
like it very much if you could feel you would never hide things
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VICTORIA GRACEN 118
from me, even if they were things you knew I didn*t like. Fd
promise always to be ready to talk them over fairly and try
to see your point of view as well as my own. Do you think
you would be willing to do that? ^^
Riehard^s eyes were upon her earnestly, and they took on a
glint of appreciation. -His look spoke volumes, but his lips
only said in a low, reserved growl :
. ^^Sure!^^
It wasn^t much of an answer, and yet his aunt felt that
he had given her full assurance. Something in his eyes and
in the loyalty of his tone filled her with joy inexpressible. She
had not thought it would be like this to have a boy of her
own. She had hoped she would like him enough so that his
presence would not be a burden, but that her life should
suddenly be filled with a great glory and beauty because of his
coming she had not dreamed.
"Dick, tell me,^' she said, looking at him earnestly, and
speaking low and tenderly, ** are you — do you think you are
going to like to stay here? Do you think you can learn to
love me a little?''
The boy tried to take his eyes away from her face, but
before he succeeded he gave her a look of so deep reverence
and affection in answer that she felt she never would forget it;
and then his voice, hoarse and gruff, and sounding strange
to his own ears, growled out again :
** Sure. I like it better than anything that ever happened
to me before, and — ^I like you already.'' He couldn't make
his lips say "love"; but he thought it in his heart, and the
aunt felt that was what he meant.
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114 THE OBSESSION OF
They were silent for a moment, looking into each other's
eyes in the firelight ; then the boy looked down embarrassedly,
and said quickly, sharply :
'* But I know I'm not fit to be here in this beautiful home,
and with you. I know well enough I don't belong here, and
I ought to go back and work in the slaughter-house where my
uncle wanted to put me. I hate it; but thafs all I'm fit for
in this world, and I've got sense enough to see it. You*d bet-
ter send me right bacL"
He drew his hand across his eyes hastily, and his throat
moved convulsively. Miss Gracen was on her knees beside
his chair in a second, with her arm about the strong, yoxmg
shoulders, and her white hair close to his dark head.
**Dick, my dear, dear boy," she said tenderly, '* don't
ever say that again. You do belong right here in your dear
father's house, and you are fit for it> I know; or, if there is
any way in which you are not fit, we will make you fit. You
shall never go away unless you do not like to stay. Do you
understand?"
For answer Eichard's fingers closed tightly about his aunf s
hand that had crept into his.
** Thank you; you're awfully good to me," he managed to
murmur hoarsely after a minute. " I'll try hard to deserve it
aU."
'^ I hope you will, dear," said his aunt gently ; ** but remem-
ber that, after all, it isn't a matter of deserving. If s your
inheritance. It is your right as your father's son. You must
try to live up to what your father would expect of you. Will
you try to do that? "
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VICTORIA GRACEN 115
^^Sure/^ said Eichard tersely, though evidently deeply
affected.
**Aiid now, DieV^ said his aunt after a minute, feelinj
that the strain must be relieved, " suppose you tell me all about
yourself. Eemember I don^t know anything about your past,
nor what you've been used to; and I think perhaps we'd get
along a little better if we understood each other's ways. I'll
tell you in turn anything you want to know. Shall we do
that?"
Richard assented almost inaudibly, and his aunt arose, and
stood beside him for a moment, passing her hand lovingly
over the dark bowed head; then, drawing her chair quite near
to his, she sat down.
" Now, will you begin? " she asked pleasantly.
**What do you want to know?" asked the boy. ^'How
bad I've been?"
The woman smiled tenderly.
'* Why, yes, if you care to tell me," she said, ^^ and how
good you've been, too. I'd like to understand all about you;
then perhaps I wouldn't make so many mistakes at the begin-
ning."
" There hasn't been much good to tell, I guess," muttered
the boy, *^ at least, not what you would call good, I suppose.
I haven't been so awfully bad, either, though I guess some
things you wouldn't like. But a boy has to have a good time
somehow, you know, and there weren't many good times
coming my way unless I went out and made them for my-
self."
Miss Gracen's hand stole out sympathetically, and touched
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116 THE OBSESSION OF
the hand that lay on the arm of his chair. The boy seemed to
gather courage from the gentle touch for what he had to
say.
He talked slowly, in broken sentences that seemed somehow
to have little relation to one another, and there were long
pauses between them; but, when he was through and turned
witii an apologetic laugh to say, ^* That's all, I guess,^' there
were tears in his listener's eyes, and she found she had a very
clear picture of the life her brother's boy must have led. It
made her heart ache. She wanted to say so much to him, and
felt herself so unequal to the task she had before her. How
was she to get wisdom to guide this fervid, passionate, lonely
young soul into the right way ? It seemed as if he had so far
been struggling through life practically alonp. She prayed
for just the right word to say first.
Before she had spoken, however, Richard broke the silence
again.
**You think Fm only fit to go back and work in the
slaughter-house, now don't you?" There was a curiously
hard, fierce tone in his voice that almost broke his aunf s
heart.
** Oh, Dick ! " she cried out, hardly able to keep the tears
back, ^' don't say such a thing ^"
But the boy, mistaking her meaning, brushed her hand
away roughly, and sprang to his feet wiih. an unpleasant
laugh.
^*I knoT^ that's what you think; only you don't want to
say, so ; and I'll go the first thing in the morning. I won't
stay around here and disgrace you-^ — ^"
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VICTORIA GRACEN 117
Cut to the heart at the desperate look in the boy's face,
his aunt went to him, and drew him down on the couch
beside her.
*' Dick/' she said, '' dear Dick, my own dear boy, how can
you say such things? It is awful to me to think of your
going back to work in the slaughter-house, and nothing you
have said has made me feel you do not belong here. What more
can I say to make you feel at home than just to tell you once
more that I love and always shall love you? You belong
right here, and here you are going to stay as long as you are
willing to stay. Do you believe me? '^
There was a long pause during which the boy's head was
turned entirely away from her, and she could see only the
strong, attractive outline of fine head and well-knit shoulders.
The boy was thinking hard, and trying to gain command
of his voice.
"Do you believe me, dear?*' she said softly again; and
at last the boy replied hoarsely :
'* Yes, if you really mean if
"I do.''
" Then I want to stay," he said, fiercely gripping her hand
in his eagerness. " And I'll try every way I can to do what
you want me to do. I'll try to live up to your standard as much
as I know how."
" Dear boy, thaf s all I could possibly ask," said his aunt,
deeply moved; *'and I'll try to help you and to make it as
easy as possible for you. There are certain things which this
community will expect of your father's son. I am sure you
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118 THE OBSESSION OF
will want to come up to their expectations and bring no dis-
honor on your father's name. Am I right ? ^'
^* Sure/^ came the muffled voice, with nevertheless a deep,
true ring.
'^ They'll expect you to be law-abiding and courteous,
honest and true, not to drink intoxicating liquor, nor smoke,
nor swear, nor loaf around in idle ways, but to take your place
in the community in a pleasant, useful way; to go to church
on the Sabbath, and to stand well in your classes at school.
That is also what your father would have expected of you,
and what I want. Does tiiat sound too hard? '*
The boy looked up startled.
'^School?'' he asked.
''Why, yes, didn't you expect to go to school? You
didn't think you had finished your education yet, did you,
Dick?"
*' I don't see how I coxdd go to school. I'm way behind,
and ifs a long time since I stopped."
"Why did you stop?"
''I had trouble with the teachers. I guess it was my
fault," he added shamefacedly.
''Never mind, Dick. Perhaps they didn't understand.
And anyhow you are older now. You will know better how
to conquer those things. I should be greatly disappointed if
you didn't go on with your education."
" I'll go if you want me to," said the boy, as if that settled
it; " but I don't see how I'll ever catch up."
"You won't have much trouble if you're anything like
your father. Besides, I can help you some. I used to help him.
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VICTORIA GRACEN 119
I enjoy that, and you^U soon be up to the boys of your age,
ahead of them, perhaps, You'll like to go to college, shaVt
you?^*
"Mother always talked about it. She wanted me ta
She'd have liked iV'
**And 80 would your father,'' added his aunt softly.
'^ What grade were you in when you left school ? "
They turned up the lights, and sat down to a thorough
canvass of the school question. Miss Gracen sent up-stairs for
some of the elder Dick's school-books, and telephoned to the
principal of the high school for information; and before Dick
knew it he was poring over books, and remembering things
that he had in some way imbibed from the atmosphere of the
school-room during the days when he fooled away his time and
opportunities in nonsense.
For the first time in his life he realized just how serious a
matter it had been, and more than once he threw down the
books and told his aunt that there was no use at all in his try-
ing, he was too far behind ; but always she opened the books
again, and went on encouraging him, asking him quiet que&-
ticHis, until his desire to conquer began to grow.
When ten o'clock finally came, Eichard was surprised,
and laid aside the books and plans almost reluctantly.
*' We'll go over to the high school Monday morning," said
his axmt, smiling. *' I've made an appointment with Professor
HoUoway to meet you, and he will tell us just what we ought
to know. Then you and I will get to work next week and
brush up a few things before you go, so that you will not feel
uncomfortable.
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120 VICTORIA GRACEN
*^Now, to-morrow is Saturday. How should you like to
take a long walk down the meadow and out through the ravine
where your father used to go? There is a beautiful creek
there, and a swimming-hole, and I know all the spots where
your father used to fish and go canoeing and camping. I
haven't been on a tramp in a good many years; but if you
think Vi do for a companion, we'll go."
Bichard was delighted. He had never been in the country
in his life, save on Sunday-school picnics. For him, bom and
bred in the city, nature held a certain charm that was entirely
new.
He came over to his aunt, great embarrassment in his face,
but determination in his manner.
*' You're awfully good to me,'' he said shyly. "Good-
night."
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CHAPTEE IX
Eebecca and Molly were making sandwiches the next
morning, and Miss Graeen was arraying herself in a short
walking-dress and stout walking-boots, her eyes as excited and
happy as a girl's in view of the picnic she and Eichard had
planned, when, happening to glance out of the window, she
saw to her dismay two boys entering the front gate. One of
them she felt sure by his walk was Tom Atterbury, and who
was the other boy? Instinctively she knew that they had
come after Eichard, and both alarm and disappointment arose
within her.
In the still watches of the night, thinking over her boy's
prospects, in spite of her anxiety, she had been very, very
happy ; and she had decided that even a friendship with Tom
Atterbury might not be so bad if it were tempered judiciously
with other friendships.
She had resolved to see whether she couldn't do some-
thing for Tom, invite him to the house often, and try to
make it pleasant for him. If Eichard saw him at home,
perhaps there wouldn't be so much danger of his wanting to
^o off with him.
But now here he was the first thing in the morning, com-
ing just when they were going off together; and Eichard
would, of course, prefer going with the boys. What should
she do? And who was the other boy?
She came closer to the window, and her heart was sud-
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m THE OBSESSION OF
denly filled with trouble when she saw that it was Harold
Constable.
Now, Harold Constable was as much worse than Tom Atter-
bury in the estimation of the entire village as Tom Atterbury
was worse than some of the more exemplary boys. Mrs. Con-
stable was a society woman, spending much of her time in the
near-by city, always entertaining and being entertained. She
was also an active club-woman in a very superficial sort of way,
and these two vocations gave her little time to look after the
welfare of her family. Harold was always well dressed, had
plenty of spending money, and an automobile of his own, al-
though he was still slightly under the lawful age to run it.
This fact, however, did not in the least hinder him from run-
ning it to exceed the speed limit whenever he thought he could
do so without being caught. He loafed and smoked contin-
ually, had been a pupil in nearly every school in the locality
and in several at a distance, and he was now enjoying a season
of idling at home.
His reputation had grown more and more unsavory dur-
ing the increasing years of his life, though nothing more
definite had ever been said than could be expressed in
the phrase ^* wild,^' conveyed in more or less eloquent terms,
according as the speaker could use a shrug of the shoulders
and a meaning glance of the eyes.
Harold was handsome, daring and reckles^. He had
gained the ill-will of almost everybody in town, but went on
his way as serene as a summer moming; doing whatever he
pleased and only daring the more because people looked ooldly
at him.
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VICTORIA GRACEN . 12S
And Harold Constable was coming to see her Bichard ! She
felt appalled. For a moment she had the attitude of a mother
hen who sees a hawk about to swoop down upon lier chicken.
Then her eyes flashed. How dared he come there? How
dared Tom Atterbury bring him ? She would have to hurry
down and make Tom understand that this was the end of
all relations if he was going to bring boys like this to her
house.
In feverish haste she put on her hat and coat, and went
down; but Eichard was already talking to the two visitors.
She caught his voice with a wistful tone, saying:
'^ I'm awful sorry, but I guess it can't be helped. Aunt
Vic planned something else for this morning, and I mustn't
disappoint her."
Her heart warmed in sudden gratitude to her own dear boy.
He wasn't going to ask to run away and leave her, after all.
He was loyally going to stick by their plan, although she could
plainly see that, whatever the invitation was, he was longing to
accept it.
Then she turned to look at the other boys, and saw both
their faces fall in blank disappointeient. They had really
wanted Richard to go with them, and it was going to spoil all
their fun ; yet she could not, could not trust her boy in such
company as that. How thankful she was that he had refused
of his own accord !
Tom Atterbury spied her coming down the stairs, and
raised his red-brown eyes to greet her.
*' Oh, Miss Vic, good morning," he said in his pleasant
drawl. " Say, Miss Vic, couldn't you just change your plans
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124 THE OBSESSION OP
a little, and spare Eiehard? We want to take a hike, and
we want him to go with us. You know Harold; don^t yon,
Miss Vic?''
Kow it happened that Miss Oracen, although she had
known the boy by sight for several years, had never spoken to
Harold Constable, nor he to her; and, as she turned, half
vexed, to acknowledge the introduction, he flashed his fine
white teeth at her in a confiding smile, and opened at her his
big, gray, handsome eyes, shaded by long golden lashes; and a
remarkable thing happened to Miss Gracen.
Had she suddenly become daft, she wondered, because
she had one boy all of her own, that she should now find a
Inost unprecedented interest in her heart for all boys?
What was the matter with her that she could not look at
Harold Constable in cold disapproval, as she had fully in-
tended to do, thereby conveying both to him and to Tom
Atterbury, who had presumed to bring him there, the knowl-
edge that he was not at all welcome ? But indeed she could
not. She could only smile and give him her hand in friendly
greeting.
Harold took it with a grace and ease that showed the one
thing his elegant mother had taught him, and in his winning
way he proceeded to speak.
*' I don't believe we know each other, but I wish we did,'*
he said gracefully. '* I've always admired you, and Tom here
tells me you are great. He says you're as good as one of the
fellows, and that you're going to a football-game with him
next week, I wish you'd let me go along."
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VICTORIA GRACEN 125
"Why, of course/^ said Miss Gracen in titter rout and
confusion; for who could resist the disarming look of inno-
cence in those gray eyes, the fine possibilities expressed in the
half-formed lines of the face, the sunny smile, the daring
waves of light-brown hair tossed carelessly back from a fine
forehead, the whole spoiled only by tiie look of recklessness
half graven over it?
She looked the boy over, smiled back at him pleasantly, and
felt that she liked him, yet was still fearful of herself, because
she knew this boy was not all that he ought to be, and she had
her own boy to think of now. Yet she was conscious of
a passing wish to do something also for this child of luxury,
this boy who was so evidently being neglected by his own
mother.
She smiled at Tom Atterbury, and began to say how sorry
she was that she must be in the way of any pleasure, but, as
she and Richard had planned to do something special this
morning
At least, that wafi what she intended to say; but, as she
looked from the red-brown eyes of one boy to the wide gray
ones of the other, and then into the great, dark ones of her
own boy, she suddenly did the xmexpected, most unexpected
even to herself.
Instead of sending those boys on their way disappointed
she said :
"Why, Tom, why shouldn't you and Harold come with
us? You'd like that, wouldn't you, Richard? We're going
on a hike ourselves. At least, I guess you'd call it that, and
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126 THE OBSESSION OF
we'd be pleased to have your company. Maybe you won't care
to have an old woman along, though. I suppose I can't walk
so fast nor as far as you can."
"Oh, Miss Vic I That will be great!" shouted Tom
joyfully. "Of course we want you along. We^d have a
great deal nicer time, and we don't care how far or how fast
we go. We just want to get out and have a jolly good time
together."
Eichard's face was all alight with joy, and he looked
adoringly at his aunt as though she were some angel who
could divine and always give him just what he most wanted.
Well pleased, his aunt turned to the third boy, half hoping
the affair would be too slow for him, and he would courteously
decline to go, and withdraw from the scene; but, when she
saw his expression, her heart went out to him with a sudden
sympathy; for the gray eyes were alight with a real pleasure,
and the whole face had softened with a look she could not
quite understand.
" I'd love to go. Miss Gracen," he said earnestly. " Are
you sure I wouldn't be intruding? I don't want to butt in
where I don't belong."
His gray eyes searched her face longingly, and she suddenly
realized, to her surprise, that she no longer hoped that he
would not go.
"You're not intruding one bit," she said graciously;
" we want you very much. It will make the day a great deal
pleasanter for Dick. Come in and sit down while I teU
Eebecca to put a few more cookies and sandwiches into the
limch-basket."
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VICTORIA GRACEN 127
*' Cookies 1 Ohh! TJmimnin!^' drawled Tom, drawing
his breath in a suggestive sound. '* Say, Harold, we've dropped
right into a good, soft place to-day. Some hike! Beal
cookies 1 '*
Hiss Gracen flashed a look of pleased sympathy at them,
and vanished into the dining-room, where she gave directions
for more sandwiches to be made in a hurry, and then herself
slipped up to her bookcase to find a book that might perhaps
interest the boys in case they sat down to rest for a few
minutes.
She didn't want to give any chance to those other boys to
harm her boy, but she meant in her heart to make them all
have the best time she could.
She felt almost guilty going oflf this way with two of the
worst boys in the town, and her own dear boy unwarned and
unguarded; but somehow she could not help feeling very happy
about it. If indeed she was doing wrong, at least she would
be on the alert ; she would discover it at onc^ and perhaps never
do it again; but she meant to find out just exactly for herself
whether these were bad boys or not. Her boy was to be of
their world now; she could not hope to keep him utterly apart
from them, even should she wish it. It would be well for her
to know exactly what they were. One day together ought to
tell her something.
Of course, she supposed, they all would far rather have
gone without her, but she must do so much for Dick to guard
him; and so, whether they liked it or not, this once she would
go along.
The lunch was packed in two boxes, so that it could be
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128 THE OBSESSION OF
easily carried and the boxes thrown away when empty. Tom
and Eichard took possession of the boxes, slinging them
knapsack-fashion on heavy cords from their shoidders. Miss
Gracen was deeply touched and greatly relieved when, as they
started out the door, Harold Constable walked beside her and
lightly helped her down the steps, saying:
** Miss Gracen, may I walk with you ? ''
It suited her plans exactly to walk with Harold, for then
she could find out about him, and then also she might prevent
her own boy from being in doubtfid company.
Down through the brown meadow, wind-swept and dry;
out under tall oaks, whose rustling leaves were falling in great
golden heaps ; down the steep, winding way to the little creek
they threaded their steps; and ^a^old Constable, as carefully
and thoughtfully as a man would have done it, helped Miss
Gracen over every root, rock and rough place in the way; and,
as they walked, he talked.
*' I'm awfully glad you came along with us to-day. Miss
Gracen,'^ he said earnestly, when they had reached the bank
of the creek and were walking slowly along the mossy path
among the rocks. 'Tm lonesome, I guess. You see, my
mother sailed from 'Sew York yesterday for a three months'
stay in Italy; and somehow home seems kind of empty, just
dad and myself, and dad off on trips most of the time. I
didn't realize it till mother went; but they have shrouded
everything in our house in denim and netting, and it looks
like ghosts everywhere. Dad and I could hear our voices
echo back to us last night when we were eating dinner, and
I guess dad'U stay at his club in town after this for dinner
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VICTORIA GRACEN l«9
mostly. I could have gone to boarding-school, but I didn't
want to. 1^11 just bum around, I suppose; but you can't think
how I appreciate your inviting me this morning. It looks
like a regular peach of a time to me. Look out for that
branch. Miss Gracen; ifs too low for safety. Here, TU cut
it off. It might have got in your eyes. Watch that rock there ;
it's slippery, and inclines right over the swimming-hole. Ever
go swimming. Miss Gracen?"
As if she had been a girl again, an intuition seemed to
come to her now to talk to this attractive, lonely boy; and
her whole heart went out to shelter him from all the daagers
that she knew must surround a boy left as he was, without
his mother or his home or much of a father. Her indignation
boiled inwardly that a mother should so neglect a splendid
fellow like this one, and allow him to get the reputation that
he had gained in the community.
Then with a glaace at her own boy in front she breathed a
quick prayer that she might not make such mistakes; that she
might not be blind to the dangers that Eichard must pass
through, or neglect any opportunity for strengthening him on
every hand.
She discussed swimming with Harold Constable, and talked
of canoeing. He said that his canoe was still down by the
water-side, just about a mile up the creek, and suggested joy-
fully that they walk to it and then paddle up to the head of
the stream.
Now, Miss Gracen had always been informed that canoeing
was the most dangerous form of navigation, aad she was
secretly very much afraid of the water; but with three eager
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ISO THE OBSESSION OF
pairs of eyes upon her^ and three eager voices telling her
that a canoe was the safest thing in the worlds she could not
spoil the sport.
She would be " game/' as they called it, and even get into a
canoe if they so desired. For one day, at least, she would do
as they asked her; and then perhaps she would be in a posi-
tion to ask favors of them sometime.
Into the canoe she submitted to being put, with plenty of
cushions pulled from the locker under a tree, and stuffed
around her, aad a great steamer-rug from the same receptacle
tucked about her. She sat for a few seconds in some trepi-
dation, expecting every instant to be tipped into the water;
but there was, after all, a serene consciousness that the day
was not cold; aad, if she did fall in, there were three strong
swimmers to rescue her.
The boys clambered in, and the little craft was shoved
silently into the stream. Then there came to Miss Gracen a
sense of surprised delight and delicious' restfulness such as she
had not known before. She perceived suddenly what a joy
all its own there was in canoeing, and rested back among her
cushions as cosily as she would have done in her own rocking-
chair at home, and watched the ripples as they glided up the
stream.
Wonderful and beautiful colors came into view, and were
pointed out familiarly by the amazing Harold, who developed
a poetry of thought and a keen appreciation of nature that was
most unexpected in the boy the whole town had always sup-
posed him to be.
'^Look up there, Miss Gracen,^' he called from his seat
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VICTORIA GRACEN 181
behind her. ^^ Now watch as we round this bend. You^U see
some niighty pretty coloring. There! See that crimson
maple against the background of the other golden leaves.
And did you eyer see anything slicker than that red vine
climbing up that gray old stone, and the dark spruce-trees lean-
ing over to watch ? It always makes me think of a real old man
smiling at a lot of gay little kids playing in the sunshine.
I come up here early every fall just to look for that vine to turn
red, and it keeps pretty till all the others have dropped ofiE.
Da you see that bit of squawberry-vine netted among the roots
of the spruce ? It has a lot of red berries already. Say, would
you like it to take home? Wait, we^U go over that way and
get it.''
In a moment more the canoe was steered close to the bank,
and the red-berried squawberry vine was reposing at Miss
Gracen's feet.
They went on up the stream as far as it was navigable ; then,
fastening their bark to a tree on the bank,. they climbed the
hill over crackling brown aud yellow chestnut leaves, and
went hunting chestnuts, the boys filling their blouses and
sleeves in lieu of any other receptacle, and keeping a great
handkerchief -full of choice ones for Miss Gracen.
They found a flat rock, and spread out the lunch-boxes.
They were all famously hungry, and Rebecca's chicken sand-
wiches, stuffed eggs, potato salad, baked beans, peach turn-
overs, and sugar cookies disappeared like dew before the
morning sun, to' say nothing of the cup-custards in tiny blue
jars. The jars were taken to the spring and washed and
brought back full of sparkling cold water. There was ginger-
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182 THE OBSESSION OF
bread, too, and sponge-cake, and olives tucked in between
things here and there, some delicious cheese and crispy crack-
ers; and one end of the box was filled with black and white
grapes.
The boy from the parsonage, where eating was plain and
scarce, the boy from the handsome house on the hill in the
distance, where eating was abundant and appetites pam-
pered by skilled servants, and the boy who had spent his
life in a poor little Chicago boarding-house, alike ate with
keen appetites; aad every one voted it the greatest lunch a
picnic ever had.
*^ Big eats 1 Big eats ! '' said Tom Atterbury solenmly, as
he emptied the last custard-cup into the stream, and pre-
pared to fill it at the spring.
'^Yes, big eats, son,'' said Harold soberly. ^'Haad me
over thai last cooky. If nobody wants it, I caa't see it left
alone. We never have cookies like that at our house. Miss
Gracen, I wish you'd invite me along again when you're
going on a hike."
There was a wistfulness in his tone that went straight
to that good lady's heart, aad she straightway did what earlier
in the day she would have been filled with horror at the very
suggestion of doing; she invited Harold Constable to come
to her house as early and as often as he chose.
Perhaps in sober thought alone at home 8he might regret
what she had done; might wish that she had kept some reser-
vations until further revelation made her way clearer; but at
present she had decided that this boy, too, was well worth
helping, and that the whole town must be mistaken in their
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VICTORIA GRACEN 188
estimate of him, for certainly no boy could have been pleasan-
ter, kinder, and more courteous than he had been all through
the day.
He had made her his especial care, and the others had
vied with him in trying to give her a good time. They went
ahead and cut down branches; they gathered sprays of scarlet
leaves because she admired them. They pointed out the easiest
foot-paths, and praised her endurance every step of the way, ,
so that, had she been worn out, she would never have been
willing to confess it. But she was not weary. The air and
the unwonted brightness of the young company about her
filled her with a new exhilaration. She almost felt like a
girl again, and her cheery laugh rang out clear in the fine
autumn air.
Coming back to the canoe, they established her among her
cushions, and started slowly down the stream. There were
little drifted huddles of curled brown beach leaves lying here
and there upon the water, like tiny boats moored together for
protection. When the canoe slid through them, they gave
forth a soft, rustling music like the gentle touching of violin
strings by a master hand.
It was Miss Gracen who noticed it first and cried out with
pleasure, telling the boys that it was the music of the stream and
of the day. They all looked at her wonderingly, and then,
gravely listening, they turned their attention to the little sing-
ing leaves* When they came to another patch of the fallen
leaves, Harold gave one mighty, silent sweep with his pad-
dle, and then held- it up from the water; and so with bated
breath they drifted through, playing the mimic harp as they
went.
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1S4 THE OBSESSION OF
A little way down the stream Harold steered the small craft
between two great bowed branches of a spruce-tree that had
broken away from the parent tree, and were now dipping into
the water like two mammoth plumes ; and there, with a beauti*
ful arch of green over them, feathering down about their
shoulders in delicious fragrance, they held the little boat.
Miss Gracen exclaimed rapturously over the loveliness of the
spot.
*'It only needs one thing to make it perfect^*' declared
Tom; '^ and thaf s a book and somebody to read to us. Miss
Vic, why didn't you bring a book along?'*
*' Why, I did,'* said that good lady with a sudden remem-
brance of how much she had enjoyed the afternoon. ^' I did
bring a book, but I'm afraid it won't be just what you would
like."
It suddenly seemed the most uninteresting book she could
have found, and she wished heartily she had made a better
selection.
** Spill it out, and give us a try," said Tom, and then sat
up quickly in his place with his cheeks as red as his hair
and a most contrite look in his red-brown eyes.
'' Indeed, indeed. Miss Vic, truly I didn't mean to say
that," he drawled anxiously. '^ I do surely hope you'll for-
give me. I never thought for a minute who it was I was
talking to. You see. Miss Vic, you don't seem the least bit
like a— a— kdy ^"
But his speech was drowned in shouts of laughter that
echoed back and forth from rock to hillside.
*' Better button up your Ups, At," called Harold between
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VICTORIA GRACEN 186
the shouts of laughter; '^you're just makiiig things wotse
all the time. What do you mean by telling Miss Oraeen she
isn't ladylike ?'*
" Why— I— I didn't say that/' cried the distressed Tom,
his face growing redder and redder. " I meant just that she
seemed like one of us/' he finished desperately.
" Thaf s the very worst thing you could teU her, old man,"
laughed Harold. *' Now you better subside, or 111 give you
a ducking, talking to our guest like that."
^^ Now, Miss Vic, don't you imderstand?" said the horri-
fied Tom. " You'll forgive me, won't you ? "
*^ Of course I will," said Miss Gracen, laughing heartily
with the rest. " Don't you suppose I know you've given me
the finest compliment you know how to give ? I don't suppose
a lady would have been much fun to have along to-day; but,
if I've managed to make you think for a little while that I'm
one of you, why, then I can hope that I haven't been a bore
nor completely spoiled your little expedition. Thank you
very much, Tom."
"Great woman 1" cried Harold; "she knows how to be
a boy with us. She shall be our queen, and be crowned.
Here's for our white queen ; " aud he reached out and secured
a delicate crimson trailer of woodbine from a dead tree-trunk
at the water's edge, placing it carefully like a fillet about the
white coil of her hair, for she had long ago discarded her hat
and laid it in the bottom of the boat.
Miss Gracen lifted her merry eyes to see her own nephew
looking at her with a face filled with deep admiration and love.
She knew by his expression that he was proud of her, and it
gave her a thrill of joy.
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186 VICTORIA GRACEN
At that instant as if by contrast she seemed to see what
Ijydia Bypath's expression would be if she could stand up
above them on the bank^ and hear and see all that was going
on. Lydia Bypath would be thinking that not only the
n^hew, but the aunt as well^ was on the rapid road to destruc-
tion. Miss Gracen could only hope she woidd never know, and
continued to rejoice in the good time she was having and
giving.
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CHAPTEE X
''And now, if you have got quite done making fun of
your only old guest, I will read a little/f said Miss Graeen
merrily, pulling a tiny volume out of her pocket and opening
it slowly.
''I think it must have been in some such spot as this
that this beautiful story opens. At any rate, there were water
and trees and rocks, and a steep bank like that over there ; I
am sure there must have been. Listen, boys. And she began
to read :
The stag at eve had drunk his fill.
Where danced the moon, on Monan's rill.
And deep his midnight lair had made
In lone Glenartney's hazel shade;
^ But when the sim his heacon red
Had kindled on Benvoirlich's head, ^
The deep-mouthed bloodhound's heavy bay
Resoimded up the rocky way,
Ai^d faint» from farther distance borne.
Were heard the clanging hoof and horn
Tom Atterbury started upright in his place with a smoth-
ered exclamation; and Miss Graeen looked up, already sure that
the book would not attract her audience; but the light of
interest in Tom^s eyes surprised her.
'' Say, Miss Vic, that's ' The Lady of the Lake ' isn't it?
Say, do read that, please. I'm mighty glad you brought it
along; for I have an exam on it the first thing Monday morn-
ing, and I promised dad I wouldn't flunk this time. If s been
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188 THE OBSESSION OF
worrying me all ihiB day, because I knew I ought to be home
studying it^ for I just can't get that poetry stuff into my
head/'
^'Why, surely, well read it; won't we, boys?" she said^
looking around on the rest of her audience for approval.
** I was afraid you wouldn't care for this at all; but, if Tom
needs it ^"
'*Sure! Qo ahead!" assented Harold with interest.
'* Guess we can take a little dose of poetry if if s going to help
you on with your exam any. We don't want to make you
flunk, At"
A light suddenly came into Miss Gracen's eyes, the fire of
a great resolve. What if she could really conquer the interest
of these boys ? If she could make them actually lUee that read-
ing? Her own boy needed it, too. True, she saw no enthu-
siasm in his face, and she felt he would probably care as little
as the others if he were made to tell what he really was think-
ing. But he, too, would probably have to take an examination
on the book some day if he went to school. Why could she
not make the story so fully his this afternoon that he never
would forget it?
With one swift lode across toward the shore she made her
plans.
*' Then suppose we get to work and teach this lesson to
Tom," she said; '' and then 111 invite you all home to dinner,
and well see whether we can make up for the hard work by
a little extra fun."
Her proposition was greeted with a shout and cheer, and
Bichard's eyes shone. Life seemed to be going to be one
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VICTORIA GRACEN 189
continual Ute hereafter^ with an aunt like that^ who under*
stood.
^' Very well; then suppose you peddle over to that green
mossy bank, and let's have a map of the place. We'll under-
stand it better that way, you know. There's a map in this book,
and we'll copy it in moss and stones and earth. Harold, you
take the map and Locate all the places ; and Dick, you and Tom
cut this card into small sign-boards while I read. First, we
will locate Glenartney, where the stag was taking his evening
drink, and then Benvoirlich and TJam-Var. You know these
places are all real, and Walter Scott must have known them
well."
Then, while she hastily removed the map from the bool^
giving it to Harold, and hunted out some calling-cards from
her jacket-pocket, she told briefly of the great man who wrote
the poem, until with her few words he had become a living
being to the boys, and she saw their attention was held. While
Glenartney was being modelled from moss and ferns and its
name elaborately printed with Tom's fountain pen, she
plunged into the poem again, and found no wandering audi-
ence this time. They were all attention in the hunt and in
laying out the land and getting it just like the map. Child's
play, perhaps; but Tom's examination was its excuse, and
they aU three were but little out of childhood, though they
never would have owned it.
It was in the dipping shade of a great spruce-tree that they
tied the canoe; and the moss rose green on the bank beside
them, peopled presently with the characters of the story. Miss
Gracen read on rapidly, stopping only when there was a de-
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140 THE OBSESSION OP
cided difference of opinion about the size or exact location
of some moTintaLn^ glen^ or lake.
Then the sun dipped low, and the story went on until the
dusk gave sudden warning. Beluctantly they left their mimic
Scotland, and the paddles silently bore them back to the
landing-place.
^^ That certainly was great. Miss Gracen,'* drawled Tom.
*' I never'U forget it now. I can see every one of those places,
and Fm afraid 1^11 scare the ' prof/ He'U think I had the
book open. I'm sure I can pass now. Won't dad be surprised
when he sees my mark? Say, couldn't you finish it for us
after supper? Is there so very much more, or are you too
tired?''
''Not a bit tired," said the triumphant lady, her eyes
gleaming with pleasure in the darkness; *^ but maybe the other
boys have had enough."
*' No, it's interesting," said Eichard, who had not spoken
about it before. *^I'd like to see how it came out myself.
We started reading it in school ; but I left before we finished it,
and anyhow I didn't care much for the teacher. I didn't get
on to the story at all then."
*'Here too," called Harold, as he skilfully brought the
canoe to the landing.
They climbed the little hill through the dusk. Miss Gracen,
with her pretty hair all tumbled and fiuffy and the red gar-
land wreathed gracefully about its white masses, her hat
swinging in her hand, and Harold helping her up the steep
places, was laughing like a girl at the funny things the boys
were saying.
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VICTORIA GRACEN 141
'' Don^t hurry. Miss Gracen; you'll be all out of breath at
the top/' declared Harold.
'^ Yes^ Miss Vie, I'm afraid you're expeeding the seed
limit/' drawled Tom comically. '^ There's plenly of time, I'm
sure, though I left my watch up-stairs when I came away this
morning."
''Let it run down," quickly finished Dick; and then they
burst into a torrent of piMis, plays upon worda, and comical
phrases such as their cultured, quiet companion had never
heard before.
What delightfully merry, bright boys these were! The
things they said were really witty, though they were couched
in the vernacular of modem slang; and she perceived, too,
with a great pride, that her own boy could hold his own with
the rest.
By this time Miss Gracen had actually so far forgotten
herself as not to be shocked at the excessive amount of slang
to which she had been listemng all the afternoon. She was
laughing in happy abandonment as Harold let down the
meadow bars and helped her into her own yard; and Hiram
heard the echo of it, and called Molly and Eebecca to the
window of the butler's pantry to see and listen. With awe
they looked at one another, a great light spreading over their
faithful faces.
" Now hear the pretty voice of her ! " exclaimed Eebecca.
''Ain't it fer all the world like she was a little girl again,
and coming home from school afore her brother went off
and made all the trouble? Oh, I wish her poor mother could
hear her ! "
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142 THE OBSESSION OF
" If s all that yoTmg Mister Dick/' averred Hiram, '' He's
goin' to make the house that cheerful again, with plenty of
yonng folks. I can feel it in my bones. Got plenty to eat
to-night, Bebecca? She might want 'em all in to stay for
supper."
" Ain't there always plenty to eat? " tossed back Bebecca,
holding her gray head high and hurrying back to give the
mashed potatoes another good beating before they were to be
taken up.
The three boys went noisily up to Bichard's room, and Miss
Gracen could hear his proud young voice pointing out the
pictures on the wall. *' Thafs my father when he was captain
of the baseball nine."
Her heart swelled with pride and joy, and the tears started
unbidden to her eyes, as she went to smooth her hair in her
own room.
Harold Constable's clear voice rang out :
** Say, yoxir father's all right Gee! but you must be proud
of him, Gracey."
They had nicknamed him Gracey that afternoon, and she
had perceived that it was their way of christening him as
one of their own.
'' He's got an awfully fine face. Say, Gracey, turn around
to the light. Say, I believe you look like your father. Sure
you do. Can you play ball? At, you must get him on our
team right away."
Something in the tone and the tribute to her dead brother
made Miss Gracen pause in the act of removing the gaudy
garland from her hair and smile at herself in the glass. "So,
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VICTORIA 6RACEN 148
ehe would not take it off; she would leave it just as the boy
had placed it for the evemng. It would please him^ and
wouldn't hurt her. The servants might think it silly; but the
boys would be pleased, and, after all, what hann could it do?
She smoothed the hair about it as best she could, and slipped
on a soft pearl-tinted gown that seemed a fitting background
for the crimson wreath in her hair; so she went down to meet
her noisy, eager guests.
There was roasted veal with stuffing and plenty of gravy
for dinner. The dessert was a beautiful brown baked Indian
pudding heavy with raisins and currants and smothered in
whipped cream.
''We never have anything like this at our home,'' said
Harold wistfully, handing back, with a polite show of reluc-
tance, his dish for a second helping of pudding. '' (Jee, but
it's good ! I wish mother knew about it."
Some one called Miss Gracen to the telephone just as they
rose from dinner, something about the next topic for the mis-
sionary meeting and who was to look after the mite-boxes.
While she was talking, the boys drifted into the big parlor. It
was perhaps Harold who led the way.
Harold was used to great, stately rooms and was accus-
tomed to ceremony. It was perfectly natural for him to
drift into the wide doorway, and the formality of the place
held no restrictions for him, as it did for both Tom and
Eichard. In fact, that big, formal, serious room had not
as yet been appropriated by Richard ss a part of his new home.
It seemed to him to be a place only for strangers, written with
a large " S " and represented by Lydia Bypath.
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144 THE OBSESSION OF
But Harold walked in quite naturally, as though that was
what would be expected of him; and quite as naturally seated
himself at the piano, touching soft chords at firsts and then
striking the piano with a perfect crash of jolly, happy-go-
lucky sounds chasing one another up and down and rippling
hilariously over the keys with all the wild abandonment of the
pianos in the *^ movies/'
Eichard drew near in open-eyed amazement, wondering
that a boy of his own age could bring fori;h such effects.
They seemed marvellous to him. Of real music he knew
almost nothing.
Harold, never embarrassed by his surroundings, broke f ori;h
into the raggiest sort of a rag-time song. He had a clear,
high tenor, a trifle strained and rasping from continuous rag-
time and " rooting '^ at football games, but entirely capable
of better things; and he had a way of bringing out the words
with distinctness and dramatic effect which made them
extremely funny.
Will that young man go home to-night>
Or eat his breakfast here.
Out on the old front porch?
he chanted, and Eichard and Tom were convulsed with delight.
In the chorus of the second verse they chimed in with various
growls, for they were both quite familiar with the monoto-
nous melody, though neither of them could have carried it
alone.
When Miss Gracen came back from the telephone and
paused in the doorway, wondering, to listen, Harold had just
struck into the choice selection of " The Noodle Soup Bag **
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VICTORIA GRACEN 145
and the other two voices dropped obediently into the really
pretty harmonies of the opening lines :
O, the old folks seem to like it;
They would sit all night and listen.
Suddenly Harold spied Miss Graeen standing against the
soft gray-green of the portieres, smiling; and he sprang from
the piano-stool in mock dismay, breaking off at the very in-
stant of the entrance of the soup upon the scene.
" Oh, Miss Graeen, I didn't know you were there. Maybe
you don't like rag-time played on your piano.''
Now Miss Graeen had never even heard of '^ The Noodle
Soup Eag," — ^though in theory of course she deplored the pres-
ence of rag-time music in the world, being somewhat of a
delightful musician herself, — and she had no idea what the
words of this new song might be, that sounded like the begin-
ning of " Old Kentucky Home " or some sweet old ballad; so
she stood smiling happy approval.
"Is that rag-time?" she asked innocently. "It really
sounds quite pretty to me. Won't you sing the rest of it for
me ? You all have wonderfully good voices. I like to hear you
sing. Do go on."
Thus encouraged, Harold turned to the piano, and rattled
into the "Noodle" again, while his hostess settled herself
to enjoy. It must be confessed, however, that, as the song
progressed and it became plain what the old folks enjoyed
sitting around to listen to, she drew in a quick breath of
surprise, much as if a sudden dash of cold water had met
her f aiee.
The boys, however, were intent upon the rhjrthm of the
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146 THE OBSESSION OF
jig and the fun of the words. It was just funny to them, that
ending of the sweet, pathetic strain with " When father eats
his soup/*
Watching them with a half -shudder as they rollicked out
the careless disrespectfulnees, she suddenly realized that they
were not quite to blame for liking such things. It was just ^
part of the recklessness and the daring of the age in which
they lived. It held a certain rough challenge to their fun-
loving natures and gave them a license to say under the pro-
tection of the song things that were forbidden otherwise.
Then there was an irresistible *' swing*' and a rollicking
^^go** to the music that caught and held them fascinated.
They did not mean any coarseness or any disrespect either
to age or station. It was simply unmitigatedly funny to tibem ;
and fun was the one thing they liked best of aU in life, no
matter what it was about.
As she meditated, the rag-time clattered on. It struck
her as being the most noisy, monotonous music she had ever
heard; perhaps that was why they liked it. Would it per-
haps be possible to interest them in another kind, and make
them dislike this because they grew to like the other better?
Perhaps they enjoyed this because it was easy and they could
do it themselves. Better music was beyond their powers, and
they didn't understand it.
I should worry like a tree
And have somebody trimining me,
shouted the clear young tenor, and "Who put the rove in
Eover?'* he asked in a minute more; and then the sharp
chorus of confused whistles blended with the song, and she
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VICTORIA GRACEN 147
watched the faces of the trio, happy, care-free, having a good
time with all their might.
It came to her to wonder what Lydia Bypath would think
now if she could suddenly enter the room, and see her, the
heretofore respectable Victoria Gracen, sitting by and smiling
while the two most condenmed boys of the neighborhood sang
rag-time with her nephew.
She wondered whether the minister, even, would approve
of her course; and a swift vision of the horror in the faces of
the women of the music section of her club caused her to draw
a quick breath.
But at that moment from her position near the open door-
way she caught a glimpse of the smiling face of Hiram peering
interestedly from the half -open pantry door, and Molly and
Rebecca smiling and stretching their necks behind him; and
she smiled a quick sympathy with them. They were glad to
hear the silent old house ring with laughter and song, rag-
time or no rag-time; and in her own heart she knew she was
glad, too.
Suddenly Harold wheeled toward her on his stool, and de-
manded:
"Have we driven you half wild. Miss Gracen? We're
going to stop now, for I know you don't really like this
rag-time.''
''Why," hesitated that truthful lady, ''why— I really
never heard it much before. Some of it sounds rather — ^lively
and pretty. Don't you think the songs are a good deal
alike? There isn't much real melody to many of them, is
there? But they are all right for a change, I dare say."
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148 THE OBSESSION OF
Her smile was even more of an admissioii than her words; and
she thought again of her mentor^ and was glad she had not
a^ed Lydia Bypath to run over this evening, as she some-
times had done on Saturday nights, to make it less lonely
for her.
''Harold, I'd like to hear your voice in something else.
Wont* you sing for me? ''
'' Oh, I don't know anything els^ Miss Gracen; reaUy, I
can't sing. I Ve got a voice like a fishman," protested Harold,
rising in dismay from the piano.
'' Try this," she suggested, coming forward to a pile of
music, and selecting some songs. ''Here is 'Love's Old
Sweet Song'; I'm sure you've heard that," and she sat down
at the piano and touched soft chords.
Harold was interested at once, and bent over the piano to
study the words. Yes, he had heard it before ; he didn't know
whether he could sing.it or not ; and he began to hum the notes
as she played the accompaniment.
The other two boys stood with their arms across his
shoulders, and so for ahnost an hour they sang, going over
the old ballads and the well-known songs, sometimes sing-
ing solos and sometimes in chorus, until they were all hoarse
and had to stop.
" Play us something. Miss Gracen," pleaded Harold, drop-
ping into a chair as the last note of "The Rosary" faded
softly into silence. And without comment she played a part
of "Elsa's Dream."
They knew nothing about Wagner, any of them, nor had
they heard much real music; but they listened intently, re-
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VICTORIA GRACEN 14»
Bpectf ully, with a new kind of absorption in their eyes, though
she conld not tell whether the real message of the music had
reached their souls.
*' That's surely got tune enough/' commented Tom. "I
like it immensely. It seems sort of like going to sleep. Ifs
mighiy pretty.''
'' Yes," said Harold, '' I'd like to hear it again sometime
soon. If s the kind of a thing that gets into your mind, and
goes over and over. If I come to see you soon again, wiU
you play it for me. Miss Gracen? I like music. Mother
hardly ever plays."
Miss Gracen turned a radiant smile upon the boy, and,
searching his face, saw that he really wanted it; so she readily
promised.
But Tom turned their attention back to literature at this
juncture.
'^ Say, Miss Vic, you're too tired to read us tiie rest of
'The Lady of the Lake' to-night, aren't you? Maybe you'd
let us come a little while to-morrow afternoon, and finish it.
I never know what to do with Sunday afternoons. It would
be awfuUy nice if you'd read to us awhile."
There was a wistfulness in his slow speech that quite
touched her.
She looked at him, startled, and suddenly saw into ihe
emptiness of a Sunday afternoon for a boy who had no relig-
ious interests.
''Why, Tom," she 'smiled indulgently, "I'd be glad to
read to you awhile on Simday afternoon if you would enjoy it;
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150 THE OBSESSION OF
but we dcm't want to read lessons on Sunday, do we? That
would be a good deal like work, and I think we might find
something that would be more in keeping with the day, don't
you ? But we want to finish that poem to-night, for you need
it Monday, donH you? Dick, get the book, will you, please?
I left it on the library table— or wait! Suppose we go in
there. There are more easy-chairs, and ifs cosier. Dick, light
the fire in the grate. I think we can finish by ten o'clock.
Your fathers won't expect you home before ten, will they,
boys?"
'* Father won't expect me at all. I come and go as I please,"
said Harold, with a shrug of his handsome shoulders. ^ Like
as not father won't be home till the midnight train himself,
if he comes then."
Miss Gracen's eyes lingered sorrowfully, pitifully on the
hard^ handsome young face; and her smile warmed his heart
as he looked up surprised.
"Ten o'clock's all right for me," drawled Tom, settling
down in front of the fire lazily. " If you're sure you're not
too tired to read. Miss Vic."
It was five minutes to ten when she finished, and the boys
got up from their comfortable positions reluctantly, and pre-
pared to leave.
" If s been awfully nice. Miss Vic, all day," said Tom in
his confiding tone of gratitude. ''We just can't thank you
enough ^"
" It certainly has," said Harold gracefully; and then, with
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VICTORIA GRACEN 151
a wistful glance into her face, ^' It seems presxuning to ask yon,
after the peach of a day youVe given ns, but would you really
mind if we came a little while to-morrow afternoon? Sim-
days are awful. You didn^t want to study lessons on Simday,
but I guess you'd think what I did was worse. I go fishing
or canoeing, or play tennis, or go out in my car; but the day is
miles long. Father often stays in town over Sunday. It^s
all right when I can get some fellows to go off and have a
good time, but sometimes it rains. It would be just awfully
good to come and see you. Maybe you'd play for us
again, too.''
And thus she promised, wondering meanwhile what her
respectable and horrified neighbors would think of her allow-
ing boys — ^and siu;h boys — to come to her house on Sundays.
And would even the minister understand it? Still, how
could she refuse such a request from a boy who was, for the
time being at least, worse than orphaned?
"Ill tell you, boys," she said with sudden inspiration,
" I'll read to you to-morrow if you'll promise to go to church
with me to-morrow evening."
Tom made a wry face, but Harold responded quickly
and wiUingly.
" Sure 1 Miss Qracen, we'll go anywhere you want us to;
won't we, Tom ? " and Tom bowed a willing assent.
"Then come at four o'clock," she said, and bade them
good-night.
As they turned from shutting the front door, "Richard
threw on his aunt a look of adoration.
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168 VICTORIA 6RACEN
**I say, Aunt Vic/* he said, '^you're just great! The
fellows think so, and I^m mighty glad you sent for me/' He
reached out, gave her hand a squeeze, then bolted up the stairs,
and left her standing in a tumult of wonder and joy in the
hall.
This, then, was what it meant to have with her in her home
aboy of her ownl
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CHAPTEE XI
Miss Gracbn, in her soft gray robes and gray hat wreathed
in gray plumes, that looked like the clouds at sunset when a
touch of pink is shining through, walked down the church aisle
the next morning, attended by her handsome young nephew
in his new dark-blue suit, the observed of the whole con-
gregation.
Lydia Bypath watched them jealously as they passed her
seat, and sniflfed. It had been made known to her by some
occidt method all her own that Miss Gracen had wasted a
whole day going oflf on a tramp with this boy and two others
of the villagers worst To a late hour the evening before
sounds had proceeded from the hitherto respectable mansion of
Gracen which had not gone to the furthering of the honor-
able name of Gracen. Miss Bypath classed these sounds with
the rioting of the coUege students on the street at night, and,
knowing little of rag-time, called them *' revelry,** thinking
possibly of Belgium's capital and the disaster that her school
reader had portrayed so touchingly.
She watched her old friend go softly to her seat in the
church, and sniffed again as Miss Gracen sat down with bowed
and reverent head. Victoria Gracen needn't think she could
carry on like that on Saturday, and then cover it all up by a
reverent attitude in church. She, lydia Bypath, could see
through it all. Victoria had taken a white elephant on her
hands, and was trying to make it appear that she approved of
what she could not control. Any one could see at a glance
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154 THE OBSESSION OF
that the black eyes of that nephew by her side had deviltry in
them, and of course it would come out. His father's had.
Very likely Victoria hadn^t been able to keep the boy away
from those other two, and so had gone with them to give the
expedition countenance. Well, Victoria Gracen would find
herself in a kettle of hot water if she tried to keep up that sori;
of thing.
The jealous eyes of the woman fastened themselves like
claws of a vampire on the backs of the two innocent wor-
shippers, and seemed to seek to draw from the smooth, thick
black hair of the boy and the soft pinky-grayness of the
feathers of the aunt some idea of the sinful thoughts hidden
beneath their quiet attitudes. She fancied before the sermon
was over that she could see the worry in the puckers around
Miss Gracen^s eyes, and in the set of the bojr^s handsome
shoulders the stolid determination to have his own way. But
she was quite mistaken.
Miss Gracen was sitting happily by her bo/s side, con-
scious of the joy of again having some one who belonged, to
sit at the head of her pew and be her protector. It had been
a great joy to have her boy help her over the curbstones and
open the doors for her this morning with all the ease and
grace of Harold Constable. Had he learned it from Harold
yesterday, or was it just innate, the heritage of his blood?
She glanced sideways at him, and wa3 filled with pride over
his handsome bearing. He was a boy to be proud of; and, to
add to her thrill of joy, as if he understood, the boy turned
at that moment and glanced at her, with a look of deep ad-
miration and perfect content. It was just a mere flicker of a
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VICTORIA GRACEN 155
smile that passed between them, but a flash of perfect under-
standing and love had been in it that made them both feel
the hour and place sacred. Miss Bypath saw it pass, and said
sourly to herself:
" Victoria Gracen is going to make a perfect idiot of her-
self over that wild boy, and she^ll rue it; she certainly will/'
She said it as though she would be glad of such a result.
Dick could not remember ever to have enjoyed church so
much in his life as he did that morning. He used to go with
his mother sometimes when he was a little fellow ; but the seats
were hard, the air was bad, and he could not understand any-
thing. After he began to grow up he never went if he could
help it, unless some of the fellows took a notion on a rainy
night to sit in the back seat and make each other laugh. He
had gone once or twice to please some interested Sunday-school
teacher, but he had not been regular at Sunday-school; so that
had not occurred often.
But now he sat proudly beside his beautiful aunt, found
the place in the hymn-book for her, joining his voice in the
hymns, and even mumbling a little in the responsive read-
ings. It was dear and pleasant to be near her, to belong and
to know that she cared.
He didn't analyze his feeling; he only knew he was happy
and liked to be there. He '* liked'' his aunt; that was the
way he put it to himself, this strange new delight in belonging
to a lovely, loving woman who wanted him and tried to make
him happy. He couldn't get over the joy it gave him to have
her look at him in that understanding way, almost as if she
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156 THE OBSESSION OF
herself were another boy^ and knew just how he felt about
everything.
Tom, sitting in tiie pastor's i)ew, turned furtive glances
in his direction, and Didt smiled back as if Ihey had been
old chums.
Dick wondered what the fellows in Chicago would think
of Tom. He wondered what they would think of him. He
wished they could be there, some of them, and have some of
the good times. They n^er had had such good times as
yesterday — ^none of them. There was Jim, who had never
had half a chance. Would Aunt Yic perhaps sometime allow
him to have one of them on for a visit, just so he could tell
the rest? But no; of course that wouldn't do; they weren't
her kind — and yet — ^there was no telling but sometime she
might let him do it.
He smiled another recognition of Tom's greeting, and this
time Miss Bypath sniffed so she could be heard half-way up the
aisle. Such actions in church ! The minister's son, too ! And
there sat Victoria Qracen imder her gray plumes, quite una-
ware. It was plain she was going to be entirely blind to her
protege's faults. Next thing the boys would be snapping
rubber bands back and forth over the heads of the congrega-
tion. Tom Atterbury was quite capable of it. She had seen
bim do it once when his father was conversing with an elder,
and on Commimion Sunday, too. It showed how utterly
brazen he was that he would smile right during the sermon,
when his own father was preaching. The curse of the Lord
was on children who did not honor their parents, and Miss
Bypath felt it would fall with full justice upon luckless Tom.
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VICTORIA GRACEN 157
She had disliked him heartily all through Ihe years, and now
she fairly hated him. It seemed that he had had some-
thing to do with her first quarrel with her only friend and
she conld not forgive him.
She shut her thin lips tight; and, while she sat and hated
the ruddy glow of Tom's hair under the sunshine that fell
through the yellow glass of the Constable memorial window,
and inspected the many finely-matching freckles on his kindly^
wistful face, she planned what she would say to Mrs. Cora
Craig, who sat in the next pew, about Miss Gracen's in-
discretipn in adopting a nephew of so imcertain character
and lineage at this late date in her career, and its probable
disastrous outcome. She could see by the set of Cora Craig's
shoulders, and the turn of her head as she looked at her hus-
band when Victoria came up the aisle, that Cora Craig would
fully understand her and agree with her. Mrs. Craig had once
been overheard to remark that she didn't see why Victoria
Qracen should be chairman of all the committees and vice-
president of all the societies merely because she had more
money than some other people who were just as good. Mrs.
Craig had a boy of her own, a sly xjreature witii white eyebrows
and a skulking look, whom she never could make go to church.
Mrs. Craig had not been a success in bringing him up; but
that would not matter; she would understand all the better
why boys were degenerate and that unmarried women without
experience should never try to bring them up.
As they passed down the aisle after service, tiie minister
laid a detaming hand on Miss Oracen's arm, while Tom toolc
possession of Dick and walked on to the door.
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158 THE OBSESSION OF
" Tom tells me that you have asked him to come over for
a time this afternoon/' said the minister in troubled hesitation.
'* Miss Gracen, you have been most kind to my boy, but I don't
wish him to trouble you — ^and Sunday, of all days ^^
" Why, I've promised to read to the boys a little while this
afternoon," said Miss Gracen, suddenly wondering whether
the minister would approve. '* They said they didn't know
what to do Sunday afternoon, and I want to make the day a
happy one for my own boy. If you are willing, I shall be glad
to have Tom join us."
*' Thank you," said the minister, his brow still troubled.
''I have never quite believed in Simday visits; but you are
most kind, and I can see how the right kind of reading might
be most profitable. To tell you the truth, I have never been
able to get Tom interested in keeping the Sabbath in the way
we have brought him up. We have provided religious litera-
ture, but he does not seem to take to it. In fact, I do not
think he cares much for reading to himself, at least, not as I
did when I was his age. I am very much troubled about
him sometimes. I don't seem to imderstand him."
His tired brown eyes reminded her of Tom's, and she
longed to comfort him. People had criticised him for having
been so indulgent a father; and many of them had said he
was blirid, or didn't care; but the eyes told their story of
anxiety, and she could see that it had been merely that he
hadn't understood the boy.
" Well," she said brightly, " I guess I've got a lot to learn
about bringing up boys; but I'll have to learn it for my boy's
sake; and^ if there is anything I can do for yours at the same
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VICTORIA GRACEN 159
time. 111 gladly do it He is a dear boy. I fell quite in love
with him yesterday. We are very good friends already. I^m
sorry I haven't known him all these years. You see, IVe got
to know boys now because I have one.'^
The miaister's face relaxed. It was the first time since
Tom was a baby in a perambulator that any one had said any-
thing loving and kiad about him. People had always found
fault with him since the day of his christening, when he had
dipped his fist into the christening-bowl and splashed the water
full in the face of the senior elder who held it, and then with
his tiny kid shoe had kicked the bowl out of the outraged
elder's hand and splashed water down the front of his mother's
new gown. The gown had been a silk one, the kind that
spotted, a present from the Ladies' Aid^ and worn for the
first time that day. There had not been enough to make over
the front breadtii, and it couldn't be matched; so his mother
had shamefully worn the spotted silk, a symbol of her son's
lawless nature, and tried her best to cover it with her hands
in her lap or some furtive arrangement of girdle-ends or
mantle-ties; but the spot had been patent to the whole church
for years as a sign of the blight on her boy's character, and
nothing would ever make them forget it
^'You are very good. Miss Qracen," he said. **I thank
you. No one seems to like my boy very much. I\m afraid
if s his father's fault I wasn't sure when he told m^ about
this afternoon. I have tried to restrain him from going out
on the Sabbath; but if you say you vrish him to come—"
*' I have a good religious story to read aloud that I think
the boys will enjoy," said Miss Gracen eagerly, for she had
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160 THE OBSESSION OF
begun to look forward with some interest to her afternoon,
'^ and I thought i)erhaps Uiey would also like to aing hymns
for a little while afterward, I hope it will be a good, quiet
way to keep the Sabbath afternoon, and yet make it pleasant
for them/'
She spoke shyly, half doubtfully. She had been brought up
most strictly as regards the Sabbath, and yet she had felt the
need in the wistful tones of the boys as they complained of
the usual dulness of the day.
"I am sure it will be all right, Miss Gracen,** said the
minister with relieved brow. " To tell you the truth, I was
half afraid Tom might be deceiving me and that he was in-
venting some way to get out away from the home restraint
for a little while. I shall be very glad to have him come over
this afternoon, but you must promise me not to let the boy
intrude upon you too much. He is very much in love with
you already, and would live at your house continually if
allowed. You must be frank and send him home when he
is not wanted.**
Miss Gracen promised, and went on down the aisle to find
her boy, her heart, aglow at the thought that Tom was fond of
her. Perhaps, after all, she might be able to help the dear boy
a little. She would try. A fleeting memory of the time some
years before when she had been asked to take a class of boys
in Sunday-school, and, being appalled at the Very idea, had
refused, assailed her now. Might it be possible that she would
have enjoyed it, and been able to do some good? Had she
perhaps missed a great opportunity? She had not known that
one could get joy from association with rough, unformed boys;
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VICTORIA GRACEN 161
for, theorize as she would, the astonishing fact remained
that she looked forward to her afternoon with her compan-
ions of the day before with not a little feeling of pleased
anticipation.
She had spent a couple of hours the night before in care-
fully selecting the book that she would read; and Eebecca,
unbeknown to her mistress, had worried not a little and got
up three times after retiring, to look from her window in the
servants* wing of the house and wonder why Miss Vic kept her
light burning so late.
Miss Qracen had carefully gone over several books of
thrilling interest to herself, but laid them aside as not fitted
for the immediate purpose, and had finally decided upon a
story of Western life with all its wild adventure and thrilling
situations, with one man single-handed struggling in the name
of Christ against the vice and evil influences that had dwelt
in the place since its beginning. She knew the boys would
like the setting of the story, and she felt sure the climax in
which deatii and hell struggled for the souls of some of the
characters would stir their hearts and make them thoughtful.
She hoped the ending would give them a vision of the Christ
that would at least make tiie Sabbath a profitable one, if it did
no more.
The story was a religious one, not in any milk-and-water
sense of the word, but treating religion as one of the great
facts of life. It was a tale to make a reckless, care-free, adven-
ture-loving boy think, without making him feel that he was
being preached to. Miss Qracen had found herself all during
church service that morning praying quietly that God would
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162 VICTORIA GRACEN
use her reading that afternoon to help the three boys who
were coming to her that she might brighten what seemed to
them a dull day without meaning.
Perhaps it was her intense desire for the success of her
afternoon that made her eyes so bright and her cheeks flush
so prettily pink as she walked down the church steps by the
side of her boy. Passing Lydia Bypatii she smiled happily
into her spiteful eyes.
*' She^ll smile on the other side of her mouth wh^i that
pretty nephew of hers brings her into disgrace/' snapped that
soured soul to Mrs. Graig.
But Victoria Gracen passed happily on with her boy, and
was saved from a knowledge of the poor lad/s ill-will. She
was rejoicing in the ease with which her boy lifted his hat
as die bowed to her friends, and she took pride and pleasure
in stopping to introduce him to her intimate acquaintaiyjes.
Somehow she had never realized before how lonely it had been
always to go and come everywhere alone.
They walked down the wind-swept autumn street, and
Miss Gracen was unspeakably happy. She thanked God that
He had sent this boy to her, and she prayed in her heart that
she might be shown how to lead him in the best and
wisest way.
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CHAPTER XII
It was in the cosy library that she awaited them^ a big
easy chair apiece in readiness, and plenty of cushions piled
luxuriously on the couch. The fire on the hearth was blazing
cheerfully, and a great platter of molasses candy in delicious
golden squares that Molly had made the night before stood al-
luringly in the broad window-seat. Miss Gracen's own little
reading-chair was placed at just the right angle where the
light from the bay window would come over her left shoulder,
and she could see the occupants of the three big chairs. The
book lay innocently under a pile of religious papers, and even
Dick did not suspect its presence as yet
Dick's pleasant whistle could be heard up-stairs in his
room. He was beginning to feel quite at home in that big
new home of his. He had been out among the horses with
Hiram after dinner, and wandered about the place a little ; and
now he was up-stairs exploring some of his father's books and
pictures.
His aunt fancied that already his face seemed to have
lost some of its hard, defensive look, and his eyes were glad
when he looked at her and smiled.
On the piano in the parlor Miss Gracen had collected all
the hymn-books in the house. She would) get the boys to sing
a little while, she thought, as she hovered about the rooms,
putting a touch here and there as though she were expecting
grand company. Somehow she was as eager as a child over a
party. She wanted the place to look pleasant and attractive
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164 THE OBSESSION OF
to them all, not only for her boy^g sake, but for the sakes of
them all; and how strange it was that a few days ago she
had no interest whatever in any of them! Was it because
they had each given her a bit of a glimpse into their hearts,
and she had seen the restlessness and longing, and really wist-
ful looking out to life for something more than it had as yet
given them?
It wasn't in nature that th^ should notice the big bronze
bowls of red and gold chrysanthemums that stood on mantel
and table; yet she touched their bright masses happily, and
looked about on the pleasant rooms with a hope that it might
seem good to the boys. What would Lydia Bypath think now,
if she could see how interested she really was in those ter-
rible boys?
She walked the length of the great parlor, and drew aside
the costly curtains of frostlike lace to look out. The sun was
shining, and the world held that autunm-gold look in the
atmosphere. It was ahnost too pleasant to -expect the boys
to care to come indoors. Perhaps, after all, they would not
come. She wondered a little at the twinge of disappoint-
ment this thought presented to her mind. Yet even as it
passed, and while she yet stood looking out the window, she
saw them coming down the street; and there were three of
them!
At that moment the silver chime of the library clock tolled
half -past three, and she had not told them to come imtil four;
yet they were even now turning in at the gate, and who was
that with them? She did not know him. Perhaps they had
company, and did not care to come, but were stopping at the
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VICTORIA GRACEN 165
house to excuse themselves. Very likely they were going to
take a walk, and wanted her Dick to go with them. That
would be another problem for herix) face; Sunday walks and
all sorts of companions.
A feeling of blankness and disappointment grew upon her,
after all her pleasant preparations. She shrank within the
screening lace to think what she should do. Of course it had
been foolish to think that she, an elderly woman, could hope
to hold a lot of big boys against the attractions of the great,
free world. How silly she had been I
Then a sudden panic, lest they leave a message and depart
without her seeing them or having a chance to find out what
was the matter, seized her; and before they could ring the
bell she had hurried through the hall and opened the door
herself, not waiting for the servant.
There they stood waiting, eager, their hats off, with not a
thought of going walking, all ready and anxious to come in.
She saw it in their manner at once, and she was glad. But her
eyes were held by the face of the third boy, who stood slightly
back of the others, respectful, waiting, keenly observant, almost
hesitating, she thought. She smiled at the rest wiih a warm
greeting, putting out her hand to each; but at the stranger
she gazed earnestly, meeting his eyes and his questioning look
with one as questioning and intent; and his face interested
her at once, even though she did not know him. He had a
dark, unhappy look, and deep lines about his mouth and eyes
for one so young. His brows were dark and distinctly pen-
cilled. He drew them down over his deep-set, almost lowering,
eyes in a strange way for a boy. He looked as if he had suf-
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166 THE OBSESSION OF
fered much and doubted nearly everybody and everything; yet
had left, hidden deep somewhere, wonderful, beautiful possi-
bilities in his nature, and an xmsuspected sweetness of tem-
perament if only the cloud could be lifted from him. His
face was finely cut, and showed strong character, yet all
was masked by that haughty withdrawing and the defiance in
his manner.
^'WeVe brought Wayne Forrest with us, Miss Gracen,'*
said Harold Constable lightly. "He hadn't any plans for
this afternoon, and we thought you wouldn't mind. He's
my friend."
Harold cast an arm about his friend^s shoulders as he
spoke, and drew the other tall fellow forward. Miss Gracen
noticed the loyalty and deep admiration of his tone as he said,
" He's my friend," that meant something more than just a
schoolboy attachment. They made a marked contrast, too,
as they stood thus together, the one boy handsome, airy, care-
free, sure of himself, light in his manner, smilingly at ease,
and dressed in the costly attire of a rich man's son; the other,
fine and strong, but almost severe in his manner, f rowningly
defiant, holding back from all advances, and dressed in much-
worn garments that would have been shabby if they had not
been worn with the air of a conqueror who needed no accessories
to give him pre-eminence among men. He stood, resisting his
friend's drawing, refusing to say a word or break the darkness
of his countenance by even a smile, awaiting her word.
She felt that he was searching her face for any sign of dis-
approval of him, and that, if she should hesitate by so much
as an instant to second his coming to her house, he would
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VICTORIA GRACEN 167
break away from his friend's arm and flee from the place
forever. There were not only keenness and defiance in his
glance; theze was a heart-breaking hunger in it that went
straight to the dfepths of her soxd ; and with a cle^, sweet look
of welcome from her kind and imderstanding eyes she held
out her hand, and a smile broke oyer her face.
" I'm so glad you brought him ! *' she said in that rich,
musical voice of hers. '^ I like him right at first sight, and I
know he's going to be a great addition to our little company.
Besides, if he's your friend, of course we want him."
The boy's face, which had been almost like a thunder-cloud
in its intensity, broke suddenly into astonished light. The
hard lines relaxed; the forehead cleared; the dark brows went
up from lowering into startled, amused attention; the fine
eyes showed their beauty, and almost danced with a merry
appreciation of her greeting; and the strong yet sensitive
mouth curved into a reluctant smile. He held back for just
an instant more to study her and make sure it was really
true that she wanted him; and then he put a shy hand for- ,
ward to take the white one she held out. Standing so with
that warm hand-clasp, and her eyes looking steadily into his
for a full, long gaze, she began to know the spirit of the boy,
who more than all the others, perhaps, needed her, and by
association in her home was uplifted and helped to be what
Gk)d meant him to be.
Wayne Forrest accepted the challenge in her eyes, and
showed her in Uiat long, clear look the answering challenge
in his own. She knew from that time forth that, whatever
the meaning of the hard, reckless lines she had seen at firsts
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168 THE OBSESSION OF
he had not wholly gone away from the right, and that he still
had a decent, loving, hungering soul behind his hard exterior.
Then suddenly his face broke into a smile, and she knew that
he felt she was a friend.
" Fm sure I thank you very much,^^ he said as they turned
finally to go in; and the maturity and dignity of his voice
startled her. It sounded like a voice that had suffered and
grown old while it still should have been young in ex-
perience.
^* Forrest, Forrest, where have I heard that name?'' she
questioned herself as she led her little company into the library
and seated them. And why did she not know the boy? His
face was not familiar. Perhaps he was some one from the city
down to visit Harold over Sunday. But, Forrest — ah! Was
that the name of the man who had been imprisoned for forgery
five years ago? The wife was an invalid, and they were
in poor circumstances. They lived at the other end of the
village, quite out of the section where Miss Gracen's carriage
was seen.
It was said that Mrs. Forrest would not go out to see
visitors since her husband's disgrace. Miss Qracen herself
had called twice, but received no response to her knock. They
had come to the town shortly before their trouble, and had
remained utter strangers by their own choice. Could this boy
be the son? A sudden wave of pity swept her face as she
turned and looked into the boy's eyes again, reading in tiie
hard lines written there his story of bitter shame and disgrace.
Her heart went out to him suddenly. If this were really his
story, how he needed some one, something, to heip him I
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VICTORIA GRACEN 169
Then suddenly she remembered Lydiii Bypath, who repre-
sented what the town would say; and she thought of her own
boy. What was she doing ? Qathering from the off scouring of
the town to form a coterie for her boy's companionship ? Was
she doing right? Probably everybody would tell her she was
not, and yet — ^it seemed as though she had not sought this
herself; it had come to her. Could, ought, she to have turned
these boys away who seemed to want her — even to need her —
and seek only those who were perfectly refined and entirely
good and reputable for her boy to know?
Well, it was a question for her to think of at leisure, and
prayerfully. The boys were here now; and, having invited
them, she could not turn them away. It remained for her to do
what she could for them in this present, and it certainly would
take all her thought and energies.
Her troubled eyes met the merry ones of Tom as he turned
from a friendly scuflBe with Harold for the comer of the couch
that had the most cushions, and at once her anxiety and
dismay fled.
A week ago she might have stood cold and disapproving
if these boys had entered her house and made free in this way.
She might even have called them rude, bad boys and have
turned them severely away; but a wonderful change had
come over her way of looking at things. Yesterday's experi-
ence in the canoe had given her a new viewpoint, and she was
conscious of a distinct feeling of pleasure that they felt enough
at home with her to act just their natural selves. What did
a pillow and a couch matter, even if th^ were roughly
handled? It was not the act that was rude; it was the boy that
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170 THE OBSESSION OF
felt at home and liappy, and was expressing his good will by
acting as if she were another boy. The true values of couches
and cushions and other people's houses had nothing wha1>-
ever to do with the matter. They were having a good time,
and she was a part of it. They were not afraid of her.
She found herself still hampered by that thought of Lydia
Bypath, and was glad she was not present to see, for she would
never understand. Blessed little Miss Oracen, that she did
understand !
Wayne Forrest stood by, smiling half uncertainly at the
pleasant contention, and watching her furtively to see how
she would take their being so free in her house. It did not
occur to her that the two might be showing off a little before
this third one, to let him know how much at home they already
were with her. But she saw the question in his eyes^ th^ half-
deprecating smile of apology as he turned toward her, and
she met his look with a bright smile.
'^ While they are having it out with the couch, suppose
you and I look after ourselves. You take this big chair by
the fire. It really is more comfortable than Ihe couch, I
think,*^ she said.
She was surprised at the ready grace with which he drew
it forward and urged her to take it herself. His manMr was
as easy as Harold Constable's, although his ways were quieter
and graver. Where had he got his ease and refinement, living
in the shabby little house on the out-of-the-way road ? Surely
i^e must be mistaken. His ways were those of one accustomed
to culture and refinement, although she saw there was an outer
crust of hardness about him, perhaps something that would
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VICTORIA GRACEN 171
almost be called in eominon slang ** tongliness/' Yet every
time she looked at him she liked his face better. It was as
if the hardness had been forced npon him, but was not native
to his soul.
She decided that he must have come from the city to visit
Harold as she had at first sunnised. But before she could put
any questions Dick came down^ and it appeared at once that
Dick had met him before. They had been together at the
football game the day after Dick's arrival, and there was
something about the new boy's face as he stood greeting her
boy toward which her heart warmed. She could see at once
that they had taken to each other; and somehow, though her
heart misgave her with secret fears, she couldn't help being
glad.
^' Shall we go into the parlor and have a little singing before
we read? ^' she asked as the noisy greetings of Dick subsided.
Now that they were her^ she began suddenly to doubt whether
she had selected the right book to read to them, and to wish to
put oflE the reading for a little tiU she could think more
about it.
"Sure!" chorused Harold and Tom, rushing headlong
from the seat for which they had contended, and then rushing
back to escort her to the piano. Perhaps they were hoping for
more rag-time ; there seemed no Sabbath hush upon their eager
spirits; but the hymn-book was open at a hymn Miss Gracen
thought they woidd like. She handed the pile of books to
Dick to pass around, and began at once to play, Tom catching
up the melody and following it in a clear whistle.
The new boy accepted his book with a curious manner.
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172 THE OBSESSION OF
as though he did not quite belong to the group, and was uncer-
tain about partaking in the exercises; but he turned to the
place, and followed the music. Miss Gracen watched him
furtively as she played.
He did not sing at first, yet watched the book interestedly;
but at the second verse he began, softly at first, then louder,
in a clear, high baritone as mature as a man's. It rose and
swelled above the other voices, and sent a thrill of delight
through the music-loving heart of the hostess. What a voice
was this, all in the rough ! Did he know how wonderf id, how
marvellous it was for a boy of his age to have a voice like that ?
She studied him as he sang; but he seemed not to know that he
was bringing forth imusual sounds, and he sang on, gaining
confidence, and wholly absorbed in the pleasure of the music.
" You have a beautiful voice,'' she said to him in a low tone,
bending toward his chair and laying her hand on his arm
to attract his attention. They had stopped for a moment
to search the index for a special hymn Tom wanted, and the
others were not noticing. The boy looked up quickly, keen
suspicion in his eyes; but when he saw the sincerity in Miss
Gracen's face, his look quickly changed to one of pleased
surprise.
** If s not much," he said embarrassedly. " I don't know
anything about singing, but I like it."
** You must take good care of your voice," she went on.
'* It has a remarkably sympathetic quality. It should be worth
a good deal to you some day after you have had it
cultivated."
He laughed.
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VICTORIA GRACEN 178
'^ Not much chance of my ever getting my voice cultivated/^
he said in a bitter tone.
*^ Oh, but you mustj you know. Such voices are gifts that
must be counted precious. There will be a way some day.
You must make it.^^
He stared at her with eyes that seemed to say she knew
very little about it, and his whole face took on the hard,
resentful look; but he did not answer. Just then Tom an-
nounced the number of the hynm ; and she noticed that Wayne
joined in with zest.
When they had simg one verse, she paused.
*^ Suppose we ask Wayne to sing the next verse,^' she
suggested, looking at him pleasantly; ^* and we^U come in on
the chorus.^'
It was a venture following a sudden impulse; and, when
the words were spoken, she was sorry, because if he should
refuse she would have lost a point in her acquaintance with
him; but, to her surprise, after an embarrassed hesitation of
a second or two he stood up and began to sing, and his voice
sounded even better than it had promised.
He did not seem to be shy about it, and was evidently
doing his best. There was a clear resonance about it that
held the other boys silent, wondering, somewhat awed. She
could see his singing pleased them, and they were proud, not
jealous, of him; nor was he by his expression in any wise set
up about what she had said of his voice. He was simply, ear-
nestly tr3ring to do his best. Her heart thrilled at the sweet
sounds that her words had evoked.
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174 THE OBSESSION OF
" That was beautiful, beautiful/' she said when the song
was over. '* It is great for a boy to have a voice like that.*'
The boy sat down, suddenly abashed, and looked at her
piercingly from under his dark brows, as though he would be
quite sure she was sincere; and there was something in his
face whidi seemed to say: "Yes, but you don't know who I
am, do you? When you do, you won't say such things to me."
He seemed to have withdrawn from them all in spirit, and
Miss Gracen perceived that some subtle change had come over
him. By this token she knew that the singing was over for
the present.
She led them into the other room, seated them comfortably,
told Dick to pass the platter of candy; and, sitting down,
opened her book and began to read.
Miss Oracen was a good reader, with a sweet voice and a
natural way of making her story live before her hearers. At
the club meetings she was often asked to read some poem that
was being studied, or some rare bit of prose sketch, because
she could read so well ; but she had never read to so inspiring
an audience before.
Harold, from his comer of the sofa, sat bolt upright, his
eyes upon her face every instant, attention held from the
first words, his speaking face changing with the story; ready
to laugh and bring out a bright comment now and then; his
eyes clouding with sympathy during the more pathetic
parts, or lighting with triumph or delight as the story
progressed.
Tom, lolling luxuriously in a nest of pillows at the other
end of the couch, was inclined to fool and laugh a little at
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VICTORIA GRACEN 175
first; but his interest was soon caught and held, his brown
eyes lost their mischief, and were filled with earnestness. It
seemed as though he had dropped his mask of impishness for
the time and let the true soul of the boy look out from them
with all its longings, failings, disappointing repressions, and
occasional attempts at goodness.
Dick sat in one great leather chair on the right side of the
fire, and Wayne in its mate on the left side. Dick's eyes were
watching the fiames as they flickered and leaped, and his face
wore a look of content and pleasure that was good to see.
He was enjoying life as he had never enjoyed it before, and
there were whole vistas of such enjoyments in the possibilities
of the future. What would his imcle and aunt say if they
could see and know? How glad he was they were not here to
try to spoil it> for spoil it they would, he was sure, if they
got anywhere near him.
Then the story got its hold upon him, too, and the firelight
took on the form of the scenes through which its characters
were passing. He, too, became absorbed in listening, and forgot
everything else. N"o one had ever tried to interest him or
make him happy before, or to cidtivate the latent forces of his
mind and soul; and this first experience was a wonderful
one to him.
From the big chair on the left of the fire the boy Wayne,
his head slightly bowed upon his hand, raised a pair of intense
eyes under his defense of dark brows, and watched her unfiinch-
iDgly. Whenever she raised her eyes, she felt his eyes upon
her, questioning, analyzing, weighing every word that dropped
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176 THE OBSESSION OF
from her lips. She had a strange feeling that a man's mature
mind dwelt behind those eyes, and that the story meant more
to him than to any of the others. Perhaps it was with an
intuitive divining of some hidden need of his that she put
her own sold into what she was reading, and brought out the
fine shades of helpfulness in the well-balanced story, making
a truth live before her hearers that was scarcely even ex-
pressed in words on the printed page. She knew how to read
such things into the words, just with the varying of her tones,
and it was thus that she always swayed her listeners.
The autumn twilight deepened; and Dick, with a little
proud thrill of being at home and having duties as host to
perform, slipped silently up, and switched on the electric light
in the reading-lamp on the table, leaving the other lights off,
so that the comers of the room were still in shadow. The
boys' earnest faces glowed out of the dusky places in the room ;
and Miss Qracen, her voice quiet and sweet, read on, knowing
that she held her audience as she had never held an audience
before.
They had reached the spot in the story where death and
the devil contended with the man of Ood for a soul, and
where simple purity and sincere faith made good under ter-
rible stress. Harold Constable's alert, watching eyes suddenly
closed, and he rubbed them as if there was something in
them. Wayne Forrest's gaze was down now, with the kind of
look that often accompanies anguish-wrung tears, though one
could see that the boy would suffer anything rather than let
a tear appear in his fierce young eyes. The reader was aware
of all this, and prayed in her heart, as she read, that the story
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VICTORIA GRACEN 177
might touch some hidden spring of longing that should lead
to better things for these young souls.
Softly Dick reached for more wood from the big wicker
hamper near the fireplace, and put it on the fire. The flames
leaped up lighting the young faces, and Miss Gracen knew that
for the time being each one of her hearers was alone in the
room with the story and with God.
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CHAPTER XIII
The candy-platter, which had gone its silent rounds dur-
ing the afternoon, was now standing empty on the floor by
Dick^s chair, and the story had reached its first climax when
Hiram opened the door and brought ia a tray.
The boys suddenly drew up alertly, and realized for the
first time that they had been listening. The consciousness
that they had been off their guard was embarrassing to them;
and they sought at once, boy-like, to cover this with a degree
of hilarity out of all proportion to what they felt. Only the
boy Wayne did not join in. He sat silent, thoughtful, with a
softened, yet deeply sad, look on his face, gazing into the fire.
Miss Gracen, as she looked at him, longed to ask him to tell
her what was the matter. There must be something terribly
wrong when a young face could wear a look of anguish
such as that.
On the tray were delicate sandwiches of brown and white
bread with delectable fiUing, and a pot of hot chocolate with a
bowl of whipped cream; Eebecca stepped softly behind Hiram,
bearing a plate of little frosted sponge-cakes.
Wayne Forrest looked at the tray startled, and arose as
though he had inadvertently committed a terrible breach of
etiquette.
*^ It's time we beat it,*^ he said in an undertone to Harold,
whose end of the couch was near his chair. ^^ I didn't know
it was supper-time, did you? '^
178
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VICTORIA GRACEN 179
But Tom Atterbury sprang up to help pass the plates, and
cried out:
*' Gee! Isn^t this great? I say. Miss Gracen, you're the
right stuff!''
It required Miss Gracen's gentle, persuasive hand on
Wayne's arm, and her earnest insistence, to make him sit
down again and partake of the good things. He seemed all too
conscious of his shabby suit, his sleeves, which were too short,
and his hands, which reached too far out from them; but his
hostess noticed that he ate what was given him like a gentle-
man.
She took her own plate, and drew her chair over beside
that of the boy.
^* Tm very glad' you came,'' she said in a low tone that the
others could not hear. ^^ I hope you'll come again and let us
get real well acquainted. It will give me great pleasure to
hear that beautiful voice often.''
" I should think you'd had enough of us staying all this
afternoon,'' he said pleasantly; and she noticed that hia
speaking voice was deep and musical.
^^ Indeed, I've enjoyed it," she insisted. ^^ Will you come
again?"
His eyes went keenly to search her face again with that
wordless questioning, '^Do you mean it? Do you know who
I am?" in them; but she met his look with a steady smile,
and after a moment he answered :
" If you really want m^ I'll come all right."
*^ Thank you," she said, smiling; ^^I really want you."
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180 THE OBSESSION OF
And the bo/s eyes showed her he was pleased and almost
happy.
When the tray was nearly empty and the brief clamor of
serving had subsided^ Miss Gracen spoke.
**Boys, there's one thing I should like to do before you
break up and go into the parlor to sing a little more — ^if you
don't mind.^'
Se hesitated and looked around.
'^Anything you say goes. Miss Vic/' declared Tom joy-
ously. ''What is it?''
'' Well, boys, I'd like to refad just a short story to you from
the Bible; that would give a true touch of the Sabbath to our
gathering."
She looked about on them appealingly with her sweet
eyes, and a dead hush filled the room. Dick felt a queer,
cold chill creeping down his back, and a hot anger rising
at any possible opposition to his aunt's proposition. He didn't
care much about the Bible himself, but he didn't want these
fellows to be rude to his aunt.
For once Tom's vivacity was hushed, and his mischievous
eyes dropped. Wayne's eyes swept the face of every one in the
room, and waited with his tense expression to see what would
come.
It was Harold who rose to the occasion.
" Sure, Miss Gracen, we'll be glad to hear anything you
care to read to us."
''We'd rath&r hear some more of the book," drawled
Tom wistfully, the mischief appearing in his eyes.
"We'll have the book again next Sunday," said Miss
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VICTORIA GRACEN 181
Qracen, and wondered if she had given herself another un-
comfortable time to regret the promise, yet knew in her heart
that she wajs glad she had said it; for at once a subdued cheer
arose.
''Oh, that's* good! Fellows, say!'' called Tom. ''No
more stupid Simdays. Miss Vic, you're a peach ! "
''Cut it out, Tom," said Harold, placing a sofa-pillow
firmly over the mouth of the minister's son. " Miss Gracen
only said ' next Sunday.' Don't go to taking it for granted
that means forever.'^
" Say, Miss Vic, you won't stop at next Sunday, will you ? "
pleaded Tom.
" We'll see," said Miss Gracen, smiling. " That depends.
You know your side of the contract is that you are to go to
church ^"
"Sure," said Tom, "I have to do that anyway; so it
doesn't phase me."
"Of course we'll go," said Harold quickly, "thafs a
dead cinch."
But Wayne started, and looked around darkly. Had he
been caught in a trap? His eyes sought the open doorway
for a second, like some wild creature seeking to flee. But he
sat quite still, and listened intently while Miss Gracen read
the story of the arrest of Jesus in the garden and of His trial
and crucifixion, from the eighteenth and nineteenth chapters
of John.
She made no comments upon it ; but, when the reading was
finished, the whole story was pictured vividly for them; the
dark garden, the questioning, troubled disciples, the rough,
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182 THE OBSESSION OP
cruel soldiers, the smug, deceitful Judas, iinpulsive Peter, the
firelight, the condemning maiden — all stood out like a living
drama npon the stage before them. *' Peter ' turned yellow,' ''
muttered Tom, as she read of the denial ; and tJie reader under-
stood, and went on with an appreciative nod. Their faces
grew grave with awe as the story of the cross unfolded itself
before them^ and she noticed that Wayne especially looked
deeply thoughtful and startled as if the story were almost
new to him.
They were all quite still as she closed the Bible and arose,
laying a hand on Wayne's shoulder.
** Come, I want to hear you sing again,** she said, and
smiled down at him. He looked up sharply.
'^Oh, I couldn't,*' he refused. ''I really must go. I
oughtn't to have stayed so long."
**But you are to go to church with me to-night. Tou
know that was the agreement. I was to read if they would
all go to church."
" I didn't know," he said, flinging his head back ahnost
defiantly, as if he would even then escape from the room. " I
really couldn't go. I'm not fit; " and he looked down at his
shabby clothes, and then held his head proudly like a young
king.
*' You're perfectly all right," said Miss Gracen, ^' just as
you are. We don't wear full dress to church; and, besides,
I want you." She Mniled a winning plea into his frowning
eyes, and a strange thing happened. He looked down at
her with refusal in his eyes, but after a second his brow cleared
and a tender look broke over his face.
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VICTORIA GRACEN 18S
"Well, ifs up to you/' he said, '^if you're sure you're
not ashamed of me."
''Not in the least, my dear," said his hostess lightly.
*' Thank you. Now, come on and sing. There's a song in the
other room that I'm sure will fit your voice. Suppose you
try it."
And Wayne, surprised into happiness, went smiling by her
side, and was soon singing his be^t for her.
They started early to church, but Lydia Bypath was there
ahead of them, whispering in sepulchral tones to her neighbor
in the next seat; and when Miss Gracen, attended by her four
stalwart escorts, came down the aisle, she settled back and fixed
each one with her piercing glance as they pajssed by, her thin,
sharp face growing more and more filled with disapproval as
the identity of each boy became known to her — ^the son of
a forger, the son of a disinherited brother, the prodigal son
of an indulgent minister, and the handsome;, daredevil son
of an unmitigated society woman, than whom. Miss Bypath
felt, there could be no worse on the face of the earth. Poor,
little, narrow, old Pharisee I What a lot she'll have to learn
in heavail If Miss Gracen was chilly in church, it surely
must have been due to those cold eyes piercing her back aU
during the service.
By some strange happening Wayne had followed Miss
Gracen next in order; and, when they reached the pew door,
she motioned him in first and sat next to him, the minister's
son coming after, with Harold and Dick at the end. The
minister, as he took his seat in the pulpit a few minutes later,
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184 THE OBSESSION OF
looked down upon his congregation, and saw with relief his
oldest son sitting next to one of the best women in his church;
the son who went to church always on protest, and who often
was missing at the hour of evening service, in spite of his
father^s most urgent efforts and commands. It is true the
other boys in the company were no guarantee of virtue, but
to see his son sitting beside Miss Gracen and hunting for
the place in the hymn-book for her made his weary heart warm
and kindle.
How wonderful to have those boys there, anyway ! Oh for
a touch on his lips from the altar of God, that his words might
have power to reach those young hearts !
Does anything just happen in tiiis (Jod's world of ours?
Was it happening that made the minister select that nine-
teenth chapter of John for his sermon that evening? And
his text was *' Behold, the man!'* As he began to read,
there was a flash of wonder and interest in the faces of the
four boys, and especially in Wayne Forrest's face. He bent
his head as though to look down, but fixed his eyes on the
minister's face from start to finish, with that odd upward
look under his dark brows that made him so noticeable a
listener; and the minister, whose apathetic congregation often
filled him with heart-sickness and discouragement^ saw him,
and took courage. If just one soid wanted to listen, he had
a message worth the telling; and in his heart he prayed for
the blessing of the Spirit.
Watch as she might, even during prayer-time, Lydia Bypath
could not find anything in the conduct of the son of the forger
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VICTORIA GRACEN 185
to criticise; for a more quiet, earnest, thoughtful face was
never set upon young shoulders; and he sang the hymns with
his beautiful voice, looking over the same book with Miss
Qracen, whose gray feathers came only to his tall shoulder,
and looked down upon her almost reverently when she glanced
up at him.
Dick grinned once when Tom snapped a rubber band and
slyly hit the toe of an elder across the aisle, who crossed his
feet twice and uncrossed them, and never knew why he did
it. Several times Tom and Harold exchanged rattling confi-
dences in the form of small articles from their respective
pockets. 'Miss Bypath saw it all with her eagle eye, and set
it all down against them, adding to the curse of sorrow that
she saw with her mind's eye rapidly approaching the house of
Gracen; but she was uncomfortably conscious of the fact
that she could not see anything wrong in the conduct of '^ that
disreputable young Forrest fellow with the hardened coun-
tenance.** She supposed it was because Miss Gracen had him
cornered oflE by himself in the seat that way. She didn't
know his father well enough to trace a resemblance, but she
spent much holy time tracing out signs of an evil inheritance
in the strong, fine, young face, and she joined with fervor
in the closing hynm.
When, free from envy, scorn, and pride.
Our wishes all above.
Each can his brother's failings hide.
And show a brother's love,
and knew not what a travesty it was upon her soul.
It was the first time that Wayne Forrest had been inside
any church in Eoslyn, and the first time that any minister in
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186 THE OBSESSION OP
the town had taken him by the hand ; so Mr. Atterbury's wann
clasp, and heariy '^Glad to see you, Forrest. Wish you'd
come every Sunday,'* did a good deal toward helping him to
bear the curious scorn of some other people who stared at him
and whispered openly about him. He wal]^ home in the
starlight, listening to Miss Oracen's pleasant talk, and bade
her good-night at her door with real gratitude in his voice as
he said:
^^I want to thank you for the nicest Sunday afternoon
I can remember.''
And Miss Gracen wholly committed herself to the future
as she replied:
^* I hope you will let me give you many more of them. I
shall look for you next Sunday, early. Bemember ! "
Home through the starlight he walked after parting from
the boys, out past the village, into the lonely road of the
country, and opened the door of the unattractive little house
he called home fully two hours earlier than usual. His sister
looked up sharply from the book she was reading, and called
out half anxious, wholly pleased :
''What's eating you, Wayne, to come home so early?"
She was a pretty girl with a fine mind and rather old manners
upon her young shoulders. ''Where've you been?" she
persisted.
''Been to church," said Wayne gravely, as if that were
his habit every Sunday of his life.
" Church 1 " his sister exclaimed. " Church I what do you
mean Wayne?"
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VICTORIA GRACEN 187
*' Mean what I say. IVe been to church/' He sat down
without smiling, greatly enjoying her bewilderment.
'* Yes, a lot you've been to church. Mother,'' raising her
voice to reach the invalid in the next room, ** listen to Wayne.
He says he's been to church."
^'I only wish he had," sighed the feeble voice of the
mother. '*! always went to church twice on Sunday. I
never meant my children to come up this way."
But the sister, with a keen look into her brother's face,
slipped from her seat, and came and stood beside his chair,
touching his hair lightly with her fingers, and brushing it
back from his forehead.
'^What's the matter, Wayne dear?" she said, and her
sweet voice had grown gentler. ^' Has somebody been being
mean to you?"
*^ No," growled the boy, half laughing. ^* I tell you I've
been to church. I'm not kidding you. I've really been to
church."
His sister sat down suddenly as though she were too much
astonished to stand.
"What made you do it?" she asked^ watching him
intently.
" Oh, some of the fellows were going; so I just thought
I'd go too."
" Where did you go ? Which church ? "
" Presbyterian."
It happened that the Presbyterian was the church of the
wealthy and scholarly in Boslyn, and this made the surprise
all the greater.
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188 THE OBSESSION OP
*^You went to the Presbyterian cliurch, and in those
clothes, Wayne I '*
*'HadnH any others with me, had I?**
" But suppose you had happened to sit with some of those
rich swells. How would you have felt?''
^*I did,'' said Wayne. *^The fact is, I went with one
of them. Sis."
"Who?"
" Miss Victoria Gracen."
" Wayne, I wish you'd stop joking and talk sensibly. Where
hav^e you been to-night, anyway ? You don't suppose I'm going
to believe all that nonsense. Wait ! I'll get you some supper.
There's some hot johnny-cake put away in the oven for you,
and I saved a little of mother's cream. Youll like that with
it, won't you?"
" No, sit down, Ehoda ; I'm not hungry to-night Eat the
cream yourself. I know you went without your supper to save
it for me. Now go and get it, and let me see you eat it. No,
you're not goiDg to save it for my breakfast, either. I want
to see you eat it. I tell you honestly I'm not hungry. I had
a grand supper."
"Where?"
She faced him curiously.
" Why, I took supper with Miss Gracen."
He sat watching her with keen enjoyment as she dropped
into her chair again and stared at him.
" You took supper with Miss Gracen? "
"I did."
"I don't believe you. Ifs one of your miserable jokes;
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VICTORIA GRACEN 189
and by and by yotf U tell me what you mean, I suppose. Well,
if you had supper at Miss Gracen^s, what did you have ? Come,
you can't tell/'
^^ Sure I can. I had sandwidies, little, thin, rolled ones,
lots and heaps of them, with chicken and nuts and all sorts of
nice stuflSngs in them. Had so many I put one in my pocket
to show you. Thought you'd like to use it for a pattern the
next-time you gave a pink tea to your college friends ^^
Bhoda gave a quick glance about the bare room, and tears
came into her eyes. It was an old joke between them, this about
her college friends and her round of society diuties. It was
their way of making light of the long days of hard toil, the
lack of books and oppori^unities to study, and the absolute lack
of any friends whatever. But to-night her nerves seemed to
have stood more strain than usual for some reason, and the
threadbare joke fell keenly on her tired heart. The little
mother had seemed frailer than usual, and there had been less
in the house to eat than last Sunday. It was still two weeks
till Wayne's next pay-day, and how were they to make things
go much longer?
^'Oh, Wayne, I wish you wouldn't tease to-night^" she
whispered. ^^ You're just making a miserable joke, and I know
there is some trouble or other behind it all."
^^ Nothing of the sort," said the boy in gruff tenderness;
** everything I said is true. Put your hand in my pocket,
and get that sandwich. There's some cake there, too. She kept
passing the plate, and passing it; and I ate all I could swallow,
and thought it wouldn't be any harm just to let you see a
sample. Chuck your hand in."
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190 THE OBSESSION OP
He held out his saggmg pocket, and Bhoda put in a disbe-
lieving hand, and pulled out the piece of cake, somewhat
crushed as to frosting, but still intact, and the delicate rolled
sandwich, all thoughtfully wrapped in a crumpled railroad
time-table. She gazed at tiiem a minute, took one small test-
ing bite of the sandwich, and then put her head down on the
table, and cried.
Her brother looked on in amazed perplexity.
'* Well, whafs eating youf Tm sure, if I'd known it was
going to affect you that way, I would have eaten them myself,
if it choked me.''
Ehoda lifted a sparkling face.
" Don't mind me, Wayne; I just lost my nerve for a minute.
I thought perhaps you'd been to that saloon down at the comers
where they give away fried oysters with every drink. I saw
tiie sign in the window the day I walked to Mrs. Cranford's
with her mending. You never tell us where you are at night,
and I got to worrying lest you boys went there sometimes,
perhaps ^"
Wayne turned away with reproach and disgust in his face.
^^What do you take me for?" he asked roughly. '^Did
you think I was that kind of a guy ? "
^' Well, no; only everything was so horrid, and it wouldn't
be strange if you did as the others do; you never have any
good times like other boys."
*' Well, Ehoda I had one to-day all right," he said emphati-
cally; **and I rather guess I'm in for another one next
Sunday, too."
*' Did she ask you to come again ? " Ehoda was now almost
breathless.
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VICTORIA GRACEN 191
''Yes, she did/' said Wayne, his tone only half con-
cealing his own feeling that it was nothing short of a. miracle
that she had. Then he gave her a detailed account of the
afternoon, her eyes sparkling with astonishment and pleasure
as he went on telling the nice things Miss Gracen had said
to him. But, when lie had finished, they were both silent for
a few minutes ; then Ehoda leaned forward, a trouble eyidently
rankling in her mind.
'' Wayne,'' she said in a low tone that could not reach the
invalid in the next room, '' Wayne, are you swre she knows who
you are ? "
The boy's face clouded; and a dark, forbidding look en-
veloped and transformed him into another being. He did not
answer at once; and, when he did, tiie wretchedness and de-
spair in his voice made it like an old man's.
''I don't know," he said hopelessly, then added after a
minute: " I don't suppose she did, but I guess she'll find out
before another Sunday. She don't look as if she went aroimd
with her eyes shut. Oh, I don't suppose she'll want me again.
I guess I sha'n't go unless she sends me word somehow, and
I don't suppose she'll do that. I don't suppose I'll ever 'have
another afternoon like that again; it was great! Simply
great! And, if she turns me down," he added blackly, ''if
she turns me down when she finds out, I Aave got that! "
His sister reached out her rough, little, toil-worn hand,
slipping it i|ito his big strong one, and together they sat for an
imusual moment of silent understanding. Then Wayne arose,
and prepared to go to his room for the night. It was the way
with most of the good things that flashed across his way;
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IM VICTORIA GRACEN
they never came again; and those he had turned bitter with
his own thoughts afterwards. It was hard, hard to be turned
down everywhere, and for no fault of his own. And what was
even harder was to have Rhoda, his beautiful, gifted sister,
hidden away with the responsibility of a woman upon her
young shoulders, and not even so much chance as he himself
had to get out and away from it.
He seldom voiced these bitter feelings even to himself,
but they swelled and rankled in the anguish of his young soul
till sometimes he lost all faith in everything and wished that
his life were over.
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CHAPTEE XIV
Watnb was right; Miss Gracen was not one to go about
with her eyes shut; and the thing she had upon her heart the
next morning was to find out about the strange^ silent boy
whose face had attracted her at the first glance. Yet she
already had too much loyalty to the boy himself to go about
her discovery in any public way. She meant to keep her
eyes open and discover for herself. She felt in a sense allied
to him, and did not wish to break the unspoken contract
of friendship between them by trying behind his back to find
out about him. Neither did she care to have any one know
that she had invited a guest to her home of whom she knew
nothing.
However, her opportunily presented itself at the breakfast-
table the next morning, and it was Dick who began the con-
versation.
" Fm awful glad you were so prime to that Forrest fellow.
Aunt Vic,'' he said as he ate his luscious grapes and reflected
on the comforts of a home like this. ^^ He's up against it hard,
the boys say. I guess you know more about him than I do,
but it must be tough to have your father do a thing like that.
It must be worse than having him dead. You can be proud
of him if he's dead, but not when he's committed a crime.
The boys say he's awfully proud, and won't go anywhere.
At asked me if I thought you'd mind about his bringing him
here. He asked me after church yesterday morning. I meant
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194 THE OBSESSION OP
to tell you on the way home; but those folks walked with us,
and I forgot it. You ought to see Forrest play football. He
has more nerve than any two others put together, and he's
always everywhere that he's most needed. He played at that
game up at the college. Some fellow got hurt and they got
him to take his place. It was great to see him. If he ever
plays again here, I hope you can go. But it was dandy of you
to make him feel at home that way. At says he thinks you're
great. He says he had all kinds of a time getting him to come.
He thought you'd think he was butting in ; and, if he'd seen the
least little sign that you didn't like it, he would never come
again. The fellows were awfully pleased that you were so
prime to him."
His aunt smiled. She had her information and without
the asking.
"I liked him," she said warmly, '^and I'm glad if he
enjoyed himself. We must try to give him some happy times.
He has a wonderful voice. I wish I knew his mother. I called
there twice, but never got in. I must try again sometime
when I know him better," and she fell to planning how, with-
out hurting his pride, she might find out more about the boy's
home and his needs.
Later in the day, after the momentous visit with Dick to
the high school, she sat down at her desk, and wrote this little
note:
'TDear Wayne: —
I've found a song that I have a fancy to hear you
sing. I would like you to sing it for us next Sunday
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VICTORIA GRACEN 195
afternoon; so, if you can find time to run over to
my home on Thursday evening for a few minutes,
we can try it over together. Hoping you will be
able to come.
Sincerely your friend,
" Victoria Gbacen/'
Wayne, coming home from his poorly paid oflBce-work,
dropped into the post-office more from habit than from any
hope of finding mail. He took the letter, and read the address
in great surprise. The envelope was of a soft pearl color,
exhaling a delightful fragrance of violets; and somehow
his own familiar name, written in that clear, strong, fine
hand, took on a kind of dignity and beauty of which he had
never suspected it before. He carried the note home in tri-
umph to his sister; and together they took it to the poor
little invalid mother, who listened, smiled feebly, and when
they were gone out turned her sad countenance to the pil-
low, weeping for the boy whose birthright had been taken
from him, and who was forced to depend upon the paltry
whim of a stranger for all the pleasant things of life. She
was glad that this joy had come to him, but wept that she
had never been able to give him any good times.
Meantime Dick had found that he knew more than he had
given himself credit for. In spite of the careless, studyless
habits of his school-days he had managed to imbibe from the
school atmosphere a large amount of knowledge concerning
a number of studies. He had remembered many things from
hearing others recite, though he had never studied them him-
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196 THE OBSESSION OP
self; and he possessed a native talent for mathematics which
made him quick at figures. The school principal^ being a man
of discermnent, decided that Dick could easily enter the second
year of the high school, and might possibly be able in two or
three months, if he studied, to skip into Tom Atterbury's
grade. Whereupon Dick made up his mind to study. He had
a feeling that he could do better than Tom if he had Tom's
chances, and he meaat to prove it. It was due to his father's
memory that he should.
So Dick did not return to the house with his aunt that
first Monday to be coached by her until he was able to enter
school, but he delved straight into school-life with all his
might. If anybody had told him three days before that he
would have done this, he would have stolen a ride back to
Chicago on the freight-cars, and would gladly have worked
in the slaughter-house rather than go to that school for the
first time; but somehow that talk with the principal and his
newly-formed acquaintance with Tom had made a wonder-
ful difference, and he went bravely through the eventful
first morning, and came home at lunch-time with eager,
shining eyes. His talk was all of the football team. They
wanted him for left guard if he could make it; but you
had to stand just so in your marks in class, or you couldn't
play. He would have to make his first week's marks come
up to the required measure, or there wouldn't be any chance
at all for him.
It was all so breathless and happy, and for his aunt so
like having a real boy of her own, to have him look to her to
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VICTORIA GRACEN 197
be interested in these things. It was so nice to feel that he
was going to hold his own, and pleasant to urge him to take
more soup and take time for another helping of rice pudding,
and to promise to look up all the subjects that he had to
study for the next day, so that she would be able to help him
at night.
That first evening together around the light, puzzling over
the next day's problems and hunting out Latin verbs and
finding their derivations, was a delight far beyond any
study she had ever done to write essays for the Woman's
Club. She felt as if she were a young girl again, going to
school herself on the morrow; and her heart kept growing
lighter all the time.
Tom dropped in for a half -hour about nine o'clock. He
said his father had given him permission to come over to see
whether there was anything Dick wanted to know about his
work for the next day; and he sat on a low hassock at Miss
Gracen's feet, and played with the ribbons of her gown while
she showed him how to read a paragraph in his English
which he confessed didn't make any sense to him. When
he had gone home, it suddenly came to her that Tom had in
these short three days become to her a being entirely different
from the disagreeable, red-haired, bad boy she had heretofore
thought him. She had begun to see the real boy in him, and
to love it. He, too, had been grateful for her treatment of
Wayne Forrest.
" Miss Vic, you were just prime to Porrie," he said, twirl-
ing the rose and gray tassels on her ribbon-ends. '' He enjoyed
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198 THE OBSESSION OP
it here immensely. He said he'd go to church seven days in
tiie week for yon/'
And Miss Graeen f onnd her hitherto well-condncted heart
dancing gayly with delight
From that time forth life to Miss Graeen began to take on
an entirely new aspect. The boy, and after him the boys,
became the centre of her existence.
The regular Club meeting, usually a brilliant social affair
with some speaker from town, aod charming refreshments,
where every one wore her prettiest frock, and the finest musi-
cal talent of Bosyln did its best to make the occasion a
notable event, happened that week to fall upon the very
day of the game to which she had promised to accompany
the boys. It had not occurred to her when she had promised;
and on the morning in question Dick reminded her of the
gaane with bright, shining eyes, telling her that the boys
were **way-up pleased'* that she was going with them.
They were planning to keep the very best seats to be had on
the stand for their party, and to take cushions and rugs and
a hot brick for her feet if it seemed to be cold.
Like any girl her eyes sparkled with anticipation, and she
promised to be ready for them the minute school was out.
No thought of the sacred Club meeting entered her head — she
had never been absent from the regular meeting since the Club
was formed, imless she was out of town — ^until a neighbor
called her up and asked whether she could take her place on
the serving committee, as the neighbor had a dressmaker and
coiildn't get away.
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VICTORIA GRACEN 199
" Oh, I^m so sorry/' exclaimed Miss Gracen into the re-
ceiver in dismay; **but it's going to be absolutely impossi-
ble for me to get there this afternoon. I — ^have — another
engagement/' and she laughed, half ashamed to think what
the engagement was. ^'I really had forgotten it was the
'Club day when I made it."
'^ For pity's sake, Victoria Gracen, what possible engage-
ment can you have in this town on a Friday afternoon?
Nobody hai anything then. You surely can't be going to
run away to town to attend the symphony concert, are
you?"
^^Why, no," said Miss Gracen, feeling more young and
foolish than ever before in her life, and half vexed with her
friend for being so inquisitive, " I'm only going with my boy
end his friends to a game at the athletic grounds. I didn't
know it was Club day when they asked me, but they will be
disappointed if I back out. I'm sorry not to oblige you, but
you surely won't have trouble in finding plenty of people to
serve in your place. Clementine Holmes will be delighted, I
know."
*'A gamel You go to a game this cold day! Victoria,
you'll get pneumonia as sure as you live. Tell those boys you
can't possibly go. Don't be a silly at your time of life. Take
my place, and pour tea, do. Besides, I want somebody who
will be responsible for the whole conmiittee. Clementine
would forget to pass the sugar and cream. I can't trust it with
anybody but you. Do take my place, Victoria."
But Miss Gracen, with dismay in her face, gathered her
forces, and answered decidedly :
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200 THE OBSESSION OP
*^ Indeed, Caroline, I couldn't think of breaking my promise
to the boys I '^ And Caroline with a vexed ^'Well, of all
things I '* hxmg up the receiver with a click that told her state
of mind.
Miss Gracen, flushing like a guilty schoolgirl, sat back in
her chair happUy,^ and reflected that she had brought the
gossip of the town npon her head now, hot and heavy, and
must be prepared to meet it. Well, what of it? She had a
right to stay away from the Club and go to a ball-game if she
chose, and she did choose, most decidedly. She wouldn't dis-
appoint those boys, and her boy most of all, with his shining,
trustful eyes, and his brow so like his dear father's, not for
all the clubs in Christendom.
She went to the game in Harold's automobile, attended
by the three boys and smothered in fur rugs and foot-stoves.
She could not have been more comfortable in her own parlor.
They explained each point of the game to her carefully, and
she entered into their enthusiasm as if she had played all her
life.
Then, when it was over, they whizzed by the Club house
just as the meeting was out, and the ladies in their best attire
were pouring out into the street. It wasn't exactly the way
to Miss Gracen's home, but Harold was bent on meeting
Wayne's train and giving him a glimpse of the good time they
had had. The ladies, as they walked leisurely down the street
in the gathering twilight, or stood in groups about the steps
and on the sidewalk, looked up in surprise;, stared and bowed,
and stared again.
'^Why, isn't that Victoria Gracen in the Constable car?
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VICTORIA GRACEN 201
Why, she wasn't at the Club meeting, was she? How
very strange ! '^
Caroline came down the walk in time to hear the remark.
She had puckered herseK together and left her dressmaker to
her own confusion, while she herself did her stem duty by the
Club.
"No, she wasnV^ she snapped. '^She went to a ball-
game instead. What do you think of that? Victoria Gracen
at a ball-game 1 I tell you that woman is just obsessed by
boysl'^
" Obsessed '^ was one of the new words that the Club had
taught Caroline. She enjoyed an appropriate occasion on
which to use it.
"ffm!^^ said Mrs. Hiram Eushmore mearingly, as she
gazed after the flying car. " Well, thafs the way with some
unmarried women when they get hold of a man creature ; they
just go crazy. But I thought Victoria Gracen had too much
eense.*^
But Victoria Gracen, happily unconscious of the gather-
ing storm of disapproval, rode away to the station.
"Now\['ll tell you what we'll do,'' she said, as Wayne,
his eyes shining with the attention shown him, leaped in and
took the vacant seat beside her. " You'll all go home with
us to supper. 1 told Eebecca to cook plenty of chicken and
make pies enough for a regiment. I think there's pumpkin
pie, if I'm not much mistaken."
A shout of joy from Tom and Harold hailed this announce-
ment, but Wayne looked down at himself in dismay. The
grime of the office was upon him, and he felt an unspeakable
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«(» THE OBSESSION OF
fihrinkiTig from going out to dinner, much as he would
like it.
" Oh, thank you, but 1^11 have to get home,^^ he declared
with one of his dark looks. ^^They expect me. I really
couldn^t go, you know.'^
"Of course they expect jou," said Miss Gracen. "It
wouldn^t do at all to let them worry. Couldn^t we tele-
phone them? ^'
The moment she had said it she knew what a mistake she
had made, and Wayne's face darkened; but she caught up
her own words with :
"But maybe you aren't bothered with a 'phone. Harold,
suppose we drive out there; it wouldn't take long, would it?
You see, I'm determined to have you, and you can't possibly
get out of it."
Wayne looked down with tender awe at the small gray
glove on his rough coat-sleeve, and actually smiled, although
his whole being was in a tremor of expectation.
The door of the shabby little shingled cottage burst open
suddenly as the car stopped noisily before the gate; and a
yotmg girl with her sleeves rolled above her elbows and her
brown hair tumbled back from her face came distractedly
out, exclaiming in a frightened tone :
" Oh, Wayne, what is it? Has anything happened? ' You
haven't had an accident have you? "
And Wayne sprang out deftly over the car door without
opening it, and shouted hilariously: " Not on your life. I'm
going out to dinner. Step out of the way till I get a clean
collar."
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VICTORIA GRACEN 203
The last words were spoken just as he dashed into the
door, but they were distinctly audible to the four people
in the ear.
Miss Gracen leaned forward, and' raised her voice.
^^ My dear, we're carrying Wayne home with us to dinner.
I hope his mother can spare him for the evening. We really
couldn't get along without him."
Ehoda, her fears relieved, gave a gasping ^^ Oh ! " pulled
down her sleeves, and fluffed her pretty, rumpled hair all
in one movement, and came slowly, shyly a few steps down
the path.
^^ You're awfully kind, I'm sure," said the girl with a
touch of her brother's haughty dignity, yet a hidden pleasure
showing in her gray eyes. " He appreciates so much being
at your house, I know. He just can't talk of anything else
any more."
^^I hope I may soon have the pleasure of knowing his
sister," said Miss Gracen with her pleasantest voice and
sweetest smile; and the girl grew rosy with pleasure in the
rapidly growing dusk.
" Oh, thank you," she said, withdrawing at once into her
shell again, " but I couldn't leave mother."
^^ Well, then, may I come to see you — ^and mother, too, I
hope, if it won't tire her too much — some day soon ? "
Ehoda was spared further conversation by the reappear-
ance of her brother, his face shining frou;! a rapid toilet.
He sprang into the car, and called boyishly to Harold :
" Let her go-oo ! " And Harold waited not on ceremony;
but, as the car swept away from the door. Miss Gracen waved
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204 VICTORIA GRACEN
her hand in good-bye, and called out, ^^ Don't forget! Fm
coming soon.''
Miss Gracen went giddily up the stone walk of her own
house, and entered into her hall attended by four of the noisiest
boys that ever entered a respectable home ; but she never even
noticed that they were noisy until she threw open the door of
her own library for them to enter, and saw, sitting stiffly in
the straightest chair, with retribution in her eye «nd relent-
Jessness in her thin face, little, sharp, vindictive Lydia
Bypath 1
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CHAPTER XV
Di8J£AY fell upon the joyous group as they stood in the
bright room and stared blankly at the formidable occupant.
" Gee ! '^ said Tom under Tiis breath.
" Gree ! '^ echoed Dick in the same instant; and:
" Gee ! '' whistled Harold softly.
But Wayne only stood like a wild thing at bay, and
frowned darkly.
It must be admitted that Miss Gracen herself felt slightly
as though she had met with a dash of cold water in her face
as she went graciously forward to welcome her most unwel-
come visitor.
^' Well ! You^re come at last, have you? ^^ was the severe
greeting, like a teacher to a naughty child. "IVe been
waiting here since the Club meeting let out ^^
" Oh, I^m sorry you were detained so long,^^ said the hostess
sweetly. ^^Won^t you sit down and lay aside your wraps?
The room is warm.^^
" No, I wish to speak with you in private. I'll just wait
here until you are done with these ^^
She waved her hand, and looked severely at the group of
boys, as if they were a set of criminals who had obtruded
themselves into her friend's house and must be attended to
first. She did not need to add a noun to give a full and finished
idea of what she thought they were. One felt that she would
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206 THE OBSESSION OF
have liked some expression like "generation of vipers '^ to
express her sentiments entirely.
Wayne^s brow grew darker, and he half turned toward
the door. Harold^s chin went up in the air haughtily; Dick^s
eyes flashed fire from their dark depths; but Tom's kindled
with mischief. He had been the butt of this mistaken woman's
wrath for many a year, and had found it harmless. He rather
enjoyed her remarks; they added zest to the occasion, espe-
cially when they were attended by the unusual circumstance
of his not being in the wrong or to blame in any way.
But Miss Gracen was equal to the situation, and with her
gentle face raised just the least bit in dignity she smiled
toward the boys reassuringly, and answered :
" Oh, these are my friends, and they are going to stay to
supper with me to-night. Won't you stay also? Then after
supper we can take a little time together ^"
Three of the boys were appalled at the prospect of a spoiled
frolic, but Tom's sense of fun was uppermost.
" Yes, do stay. Miss Bypath," he drawled in his most dulcet
tones. " Miss Vic said there was to be chicken, and we'll give
you the wish-bone."
There was a joke of some kind, old in the village, connected
with a number of wish-bones that had once been tacked to
Miss Bypath's front door. Tom had not been the boy who
put them there; but he knew all about it, and could not resist
the temptation to remind her of it. He felt that she deserved
it for the way she talked to his hostess.
Miss Bypath withered him with her glance, and, turning
to Miss Gracen, angrily said :
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VICTORIA GRACEN 207
" Oh, if you have company, I won^t intrude. I see my
errand is quite useless after all my trouble. I'll go at once/'
and she swept indignantly from the room, with a furious
glance toward the defiant boys, who, if she had been a man,
would gladly have thrashed her.
Miss Gracen followed her into the hall, but purposely
left the door of the library open. She had no mind to be
browbeaten by Lydia Bypath, and kept her sweet dignity as she
said gently:
^^ I am sorry you have taken trouble. Was it anything I
could do for you?''
" KTo, it was something I could have done for you, if yoq
are not too far gone. ' Obsessed ' was the word they used about
you at the Club, a word that may be new and fashionable, but
it never seemed quite respectable to me. They said you were
obsessed by boys, and I came to warn you of it; but I see it is
true/'
Her eloquent speech was interrupted most unexpectedly
by a ringing laugh from Miss Gracen.
" Is that all? " she asked merrily. ^' I thought you must
be ill or in trouble. So that is what they are saying about
me I Well, it cannot hurt them or me. Just tell them I said it
was perfectly true." And she broke into another silvery
laugh.
Two steel points were Miss Bypath's pale blue eyes; flat
and straight was her indignant back. She stood and looked
at Miss Gracen in speechless wrath for the space of a full
second, and then turned and marched from the house with*
out another word; and the boys, the naughty, triumphant
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208 THE OBSESSION OF
boys, joined in an ill-suppressed cheer as the door closed
upon her.
" Miss Vic/* called the irrepressible Tom, " your name is
not Miss Gracen any more, for now you are Dis-Gracen/*
Miss Gracen was really more annoyed at the passage at
arms than she cared to show. It was the most tmwise thing
that could have happened in the hearing of the boys ; but it had
happened, and she could not help it. It had been in no wise
their fault, and she must not let th^a feel any discomfort
from it
'^ You see, boys, what kind of a scrape you have got me
into by inveigling me off to a wicked football game when I
should have been serving tea and pink cakes at the Club;
so now you will have to make up for it by having the very
best time you know how this evening. Eun up-stairs, and
wash your hands if any of you want to, while I see that there
are plates enough on the table.''
She hurried into the dining-room, but the echo of their
voices came distinctly to her.
" Say, she's the real stuff I '' came Wayne's clear baritone,
and her heart told her that she had a new friend among the
boys.
"Isn't she, though?" answered Harold. "She's surely
a peach."
" You bet your life she is," said Tom, noisily, " a regular
pippin ! "
And then Dick's endearing growl : " Who is that old tartar,
anyway? What business has she got coming round here try-
ing to tend to my aunt ? " There was ownership in his voice.
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VICTORIA GRACEN 209
and " my aunt '^ could scarcely restrain herself from rushing
up-stairs and embracing him. She felt rich in his love.
Nothing was said at the supper-table about the impleasant
occurrence; for Miss Gracen kept the conversation humming
on all sorts of interesting topics appealing to boys. They
knew her well enough by this time to talk freely in her pres-
ence and to express their hearty approval of the bountiful
supper which the wise Eebecca had prepared.
It was Wayne, the thoughtful, who later in the evening
broached the question in a roundabout way.
'^Miss Gracen, aren't we taking too much of your time
from other things? Ifs awfully kind of you, but we mustn't
presume.''
Miss Gracen laid her small, white hand on the boy's
arm, and smiled up at him,
'^ I've not had anything in years so interesting as you boys
to take up my time, and I want you to take just as much of
it as is pleasant to you. My boy is going to be the main
object of my life from now on, I hope," — she smiled lovingly
across at Dick, who answered with a soft light of understand-
ing and gratitude in his eyes, — ^''and I guess I shall have
to take in and love all his friends as well. If you ^n't get
tired of me, I shall not get tired of you."
''Not mudi danger of our getting tired," said Wayne
huskily; and ^e could see that he was deeply affected by her
kindness.
She was quick to seize her opportunity.
" I want to know your beautif td sister. She is your sister,
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810 THE OBSESSION OF
isn't she? Theone who came to the door to meet you? And
your mother. Will she let me call ? *'
The boy looked down embarrassed, half pleased, half
troubled.
" Mother isn't well,'' he said in a low tone ; *' she doesn't see
*'people."
*' I know," said Miss Gracen, her own tone so low now that
the other boys who were talking could not hear, ^' she has suf-
fered. I am so sorry. But I do wish she would make an ex-
ception of me and let me get to know her, because I love
her boy."
The slow color stole into the boy's face and up into his
sof t^ dark hair, and the hard lines softened into gentleness. He
lifted his intense eyes, and looked into the gentle, true ones
that were lifted to his; lus own kindled into trust and
answering affection. Then she knew who he was — and she
still cared to have him come 1 It was wonderful, but it was
true I
(He put out his strong, young hand, taking her fine, small
elderly one in an earnest grasp that sealed a compact of love
and trust between them; but all he said was:
" Thank you I I'll tell her what you said."
That night, when she was alone and thought the evening
over. Miss Gracen found little space in her mind for the
incident of Lydia Bypath. If Lydia wished to be foolish, and
interfere in her affairs as she had done in other people's, it was
time to make her understand that it could not be done.
She dismissed the disagreeable incident, and went singing
back over the signs of progress in her boys, the little indi-
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VICTORIA GRACEN 211
cations that they thought and cared for higher, better things
than merely having a good time. She had begun to see great
possibilities in every one of them, and she knew that her readi-
ness to take in the other boys had only endeared her the more
to her own nephew.
But the next morning there came an indignant letter from
liydia Bypath, insisting that die had been insulted within her
former friend^s door by the minister's son, and demanding
retribution upon him for his impudence. She also made it
quite plain to her correspondent that unless Victoria Gracen
should immediately diange her way of doing she would be the
town talk. She gave valuable and untrue information con-
cerning the ill deeds of every one of the boys, and declared
that she felt it her duty in the face of all insults to make it
plain to Miss Gracen that she was doing wrong to bring her
young and innocent nephew into dangerous companionship
with boys who were marked for the prison cell and the electric
chair. She finished with a scathing picture of the elderly female
who made a fool of herself with boys just out of leading-
strings, broadly hinting that because Miss Gracen had never
been married she had lost her head and was infatuated with
these boys, a thing which she, Lydia Bypath, could never be
guilty of, for she knew too much about the wickedness of the
male creation. They never came near a woman but to bring
her trouble, as Victoria Gracen would soon find to her sorrow.
She had scarcely read this letter, and laughed over it,
before the telephone rang, and another friend called her up
with fifteen minutes of good advice to the effect that she had
chosen the wrong kind of companions for her nephew, and she
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212 THE OBSESSION OF
ought to have asked her about boys. She was the motiier of two
sons who were models (only in their mother's eyes,) she conld
have told her what boys to invite to her home, and she named a
few eligibles, her own among the number; but she informed
Miss Gracen that she must get rid of the others at once. Harold
Constable^ of course, was respectable;, though he didn't seem
to amount to much; still, he had manners at least; but the
others were an actual disgrace to the community. Everybody
knew how worthless Tom Atterbury was, of course, and that
Wayne Forrest 1 Why, his father was serving a term in the
State prison for forgery. Of course Victoria hadn't known
that, or she wouldn't have had him about ■
Miss Gracen here interrupted to say in most decided tones
that she knew all about Wayne Forrest and liked him very
much; that he had been at her home a number of times, and
she felt the boy had been sadly misunderstood. She went into
a few details of facts which caused a cessation in the volubilily
at the other end of the line, as the informer dissolved into
''Ohs!'' and "Ahsl" and, ''Why, you don't mean itl Has
a voice? How interesting! I suppose we ought to be kind,
of course, but ^" and, when Miss Gracwi finally hung up
her receiver, she was boiling with wrath.
This, then, had been the matter with these boys; they had
been tagged bad boys because of mischievous things they had
done, and the village was determined to keep them bad boys.
No one was to be allowed to help lift them up to anything
better. Well, she would see whether she was to be prevented.
Gtod had sent her these boys unexpectedly, without effort on
her part; and she would do her best for them. If the town
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VICTORIA GRACEN 213
disapproved, let it disapprove. When had ever a Gracen
bowed to public opinion enough to give up a righteous deed
when the need was for it?
So the days went by, and the three boys became regular,
almost daily, visitors at the house. Sometimes they only ran
it for a minute to see Dick, sometimes to borrow a book or try
over a song, sometimes to bring a great branch of red leaves
still f oimd clinging to some sheltered tree ; and once Harold
came breathlessly to the door, on his way to meet his father
at the train, to leave a clump of -squawberry-vine dotted with
bright red berries, which he had found and carefully dug up
for her.
It grew to be a regular thing ihat they took long tramps on
Saturdays when Wayne had an afternoon off ; and sometimes
they inveigled Miss Gracen into a moonlight walk, just to see
how the light shone on the little falls below the creek, with
the branches of the tall, bare trees stencilled clear against the
night-blue sky.
But the Sunday-afternoon meetings were not long con-
fined to the four, for every now and then a new boy would be
brought along, and would somehow steal a place in the heart
of the hostess and be afiked again.
Willing hands prepared on Saturday night the delicate
sandwiches and cakes, the little tarts or crisp cookies; or set
away dainty dishes of salad and bowls of delicious broths that
needed only a few minutes over the gas-stove to make them
ready for serving with the accompanying toasted wafers.
Eebecca and Molly and Hiram rejoiced over this opportunily
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214 THE OBSESSION OP
of helping on '' Miss Y ic's good work/^ as they called it ; for in
their good old souls they felt that a wrong had been done the
father Dick^ and it must be righted for his son^ and that
through him ihese other boys were being uplifted and helped
as all boys had a right to be.
Expensive? Yes, the good things to eat cost a little; but
it was a mere trifle to Miss Gracen, who might have spent it
otherwise on going to the city to the opera, or giving bridge-
parties, or taking trips to Europe; and she enjoyed it as no
society woman ever enjoys her follies.
Just how the story of her doings got out is uncertain.
The boys did not tell it; that is, they never intended to do so.
They may have let it out sometimes more by what they did
not say than by what they did; but it got out somehow, in dis-
torted form, all about Miss Victoria's ridicxdous and disgrace-
ful goings-on. It may have been the time when Miss Earwig
from the next door ran in late Saturday afternoon to borrow
some soda for her gingerbread, and found Molly making roUed
brown-bread sandwiches with minced chicken filling. Or it
may have beeu Mrs. Harold Constable's letter from southern
Prance to her most intimate friend, Mrs. Cornelius Cornell,
secretary of the Club, wherein she made some jocose remark
about Harold's having written that he took supper with Miss
Gracen every Sunday night, and she wondered whether Miss
Gracen was losing her Puritan ideas about keeping Sunday so
strictly, and getting like other people at last. However the
story came, it was out, with aU the embellishing that much
telling pan give.
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VICTORIA GRACEN «15
'^Feeding them! Actually pampering their stomachs,
and making them think fhefre just the greatest things on
earth! Those lad loys!'* ahnost screamed Mrs. Dr. Toosnn
when the story was told to her at a Club meeting. ^'Why,
ifs the worst thing she could do for thenu TheyTl all end
in jail, and shell be to blame for it I *'
^'Yes, feeding them, and on Sunday, tool I think ifs
wicked,'^ said fat Mrs. Thomdike, gulping her last drop of
strong coffee. And all those who sat in condemnation, as they
finished their delicate ices and cakes, sat back and agreed that
it was a dreadftd thing to do on the Sabbath, and never re-
membered how they resembled the Pharisees who found some
such f axdt with Jesus on the Sabbath day.
But Victoria Gracen, independent of nature, and happy
in the new work that God had given her, went serenely on her
way, hearing little of the scandal about herself, because now
Lydia Bypath, whose letter of vituperation had been answered
by a brief, cahn note of dignity, came no more to tell, and to
warn, and to cast the eye of scorn.
The Sunday meetings had become quite an establi^ed fact,
and were no longer confined to four boys, but had a regular
attendance of from ten to twelve; and among these were num-
bered both high and low; for somehow a few of the really
^' respectable '* boys, whose parents disapproved of the whole
performance, crept stealthily in now and then imtil their pres-
ence became a regular thing; and, on the other hand, fouif or
five fellows of the lowly walks of life were brought by the
origrual boys, who felt that these needed it. A word of low
explanation from one of them to Miss Graoen was enough to
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216 THE OBSESSION OP
bring out her smile of welcome^ and thus her house became the
resort of some of the outcasts among the boys of Boslyn.
These were not all of them so intimate as the original f our^
nor did all go on the pleasant little tramps and expeditions^
and occasional evening trips to the city to hear some fine singer
or great orchestra; but they all were welcome to share the
reading and the Inncheons on Sunday afternoon, and all of
them afterwards tramped their unabashed way into church with
Miss Gracen Sunday night to pay for it. The minister eyed the
growing company with interest and hopefulness. His own
boy was becoming more thoughtful, more obedient, more atten-
tive to his lessons and duties. Surely, this strange eacperi-
ment Miss Gracen was trying in the goodness of her heart was
not wholly a bad thing, even if she did give them things to
eat on Sunday.
Also, they all shared* in a good time about once a month,
which Miss Gracen got up for them at her home, in which
games, music, readings, mirth, and food were judiciously
mingled. At such times the noises that arose from the staid
and dignified Gracen mansion were such as to cause the elderly
and respectable passers-by to look in horror and in wonder
to see who was being murdet^d, and rag-time frequently vied
with shri^s of laughter so loud that it reached clear down
the street to Lydia Bypath's windows, which, in spite of the
bitter cold that winter, she kept open a trifle on the evenings
when Victoria Gracen's "wild mob,'' as she called them,
were to meet for " another hullabaloo."
Lydia Bypath was biding her time, but she had not given
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VICTORL\ GRACEN 217
up her one-time friend utterly to the error of her way. She
meant to rescue her yet when the right time came, and until
then she meant to keep well informed. Oh, if old Mr. and
Mrs. Graeen could only look down from above and see the
disgraceful actions that were going on in their dear old home,
and how their daughter had become utterly foolish and reckless
in her '' obsession/* — ^yes, Lydia Bypath acknowledged in the
secret of her soul that it was an obsession, — ^they surely could
not be happy in heaven. It was not in Lydia Bypath's nature
to enjoy having anybody happy even in heaven, when she was
80 wretched on earth.
But the climax came one day late in December when a
beautiful blanket of snow had covered field, hill, and valley,
and the boys, Tom, Dick, Harold, and Wayne, — for it was
Saturday afternoon, — ^had coaxed their comradet, ^^ Miss Vic,'*
to go coasting with them.
They brought up their double-decker just at lunch-time;
and about two o'clock they all started off to the hill at the back
of the house; the long, gracious hill that lent itself to the
snow in curves and bends and downward glides such as were
not to be found anywhere else in that part of the country.
And Victoria Graeen enjoyed it as she had not enjoyed an
afternoon" since she was a girl. She wore an old gray serge
dress, a white sweater, and a knitted woollen cap; her eyes
were like stars and her cheeks like roses. She was having the
time of her life. Her hair was all in a lovely tumble of misty
white about her face ; the little cap was set jauntily back on
her head ; and her face seemed to have grown ten years younger
with the laughing and exercise.
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218 VICTORIA GRACEN
At three o'clock sharp. Miss Bypath, having taken long
counsel of herself in the night-watches and for many days,
locked the door of her modest and respectable dwelling, and
walked down the snowy path in her large, neat arctics, shud-
dering as the frosty air caught her thin nose and nipped it
spitefully, for all the world in the same fashion as her words
sometimes nipped other people.
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CHAPTER XVI
It was not far to Victoria Gracen's house, and Lydia
Bypath stalked up the steps — if so Kttle a creature can be said
to stalk — ^like a I^emesis come at last.
She was rather balked when Hiram told her that Miss
Gracen was out and might not be back for some time. Hiram
did not like Miss Bypath. It dated back to a time when his
Molly was a little girl, and Miss Bypath had looked down upon
her as a servant He was secretly glad that his mistress was
not in.
But Lydia Bypath was not easily balked. She demanded
to know where her victim might be, and Hiram discreetly
told her that she had gone out with her nephew, and hadn't
intended coming back till supper-time.
Now, Miss Bypath was shaxp; Miss Bypath was keen;
moreover, from her little back-kitchen window she could easily
see the small, blade, bobbing specks of boys as they coasted
down the Gracen hill. She knew the town and its haj[>its. She
knew that coasting was the order of the day among boys, and
that the hill had been covered all the morning with many
shouting, gesticulating, ridiculous, little black figures, ^^f ool-
ing their time away like apes>'' as she put it.
Moreover, her unusually sharp eyes had discerned the
marks of a double-decker in the snow tramped about with
many footsteps, going around the side of the house toward
the pasture fence that led to the top of the coasting-hill ; and at
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220 THE OBSESSION OF
Hiram's second attempt to mislead her she looked down at
those same footprints in the snow. .Then she turned to the
startled, easily abashed servant^ and fixed him with her eyes,
saying:
'^ Hiram, you don't mean to tell me that Miss Victoria
Gracen has — ^one — coasting!'*
Hiram's sheepish face left no doubt in the matter, though
he did not open his lips.
" Gone coasting with the lays at her time of life! " she
fairly screamed.
Hiram stood mute.
" Hiram, conduct me to the spot. I have important im-
mediate business with her. I say, conduct me to the spot
at once.''
But Hiram was rheumatic, and the thought of all the over-
shoes aad mufflers he would be obliged to put on if Bebecca
f oimd out what he was going to do, as well as the impcf&sibility
of the idea of presenting himself to Miss Gracen with the
disgrace upon him of having given away her secret to the
enemy, was more than he could bear.
*' Indeed, miss, you'll have to excuse me, miss; I've some-
thing very important to do in the house just now, miss. I
can't say just which way Miss Gracen has gone, miss ; but, if
you follow the tracks through the meadow, I've no doubt youll
find her if she's there, miss."
And so with his most studied manner he managed to
close the door upon her and not actually seem to have in-
sulted her.
*^Wdl, upon my word!" ejaculated the worthy woman.
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VICTORIA GRACEN 221
'' I never thought it would come to this in the house of my
friend!''
She studied the landscape for a little season, and then
with an appealing glance at her trusty arctics she plunged
into the snowy footprints, and wallowed bravely forth to
the battle.
It was a long, hard struggle for the weak little respectable
legs. The arctics were heavy, and her breath came painfully;
but she managed it at last with only two or three actual falls,
in which her inadequate cotton gloves dived helplessly into
billows of cold feathers, and arose struggling with the snow
that had gone up her sleeves. Each time she gathered her-
self from a fall she gathered more fury to her wrath; and
her face was distorted with ugliness when she appeared at tlie
top of the hill down which Miss Gracen, in all the glory of her
wild dishevelment, in the seat of honor on the double-decker,
with four tall gallants to guide and protect her, had sailed joy-
ously away. Victoria Gracen should pay for this; 0, she
should!
And so in lonesome wrath she stx)od and awaited the return
of her victim as she came, laughingly assisted by first one boy
and then another, joyfully climbing back for another coast
down the long hill.
They were almost two-thirds up the hill before Dick, look-
ing up, discovered her, and gave a dismayed whistle of
warning.
" Goodnight I '' he exclaimed, and then they all looked up
quickly.
" Say, f ellowB,'' whispered Tom, nothing daunted, ^' let^s
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222 THE OBSESSION OF
put her on the sled^ and give her a ride down the hilL Thafll
take the pep out of her all right. Come on^ Tdiat do you say
boys?'^
The three, Tom, Dick, and Harold, were oflE up the hill
in a trice. Wayne happened to be conducting Miss Oracen,
and until the boys rushed ahead with that peculiar air of
having sudden urgent business neither of the two had seen
the new arrival
But, as Harold tore by Wayne, he murmured roughly
imder his breath :
^' Oet on to the skeliftton at the feast? '' and Wayne, looking
up, saw Miss Bypath. His face overspread with the dark
look that Miss Qracen had come to watch for that she might
discover the cause; and she knew instantly that something
was the matter, even before he exclaimed:
^'Say, isn't she the limit?''
Looking up, she saw with dismay the small, gaunt figure
in black, and realized her own tumbled hair and undignified
employment
Then almost instantly both she and Wayne knew what the
boys intended to do, for they were shouting now at the top
of their lungs:
" Come on. Miss Bypath; you're just in time. Well take
you down the next trip. The hill's fine and you'll have the
time of your life. Just stand right still, and we'll put you
on ''
*'0h, Wayne, don't let them!" exclaimed Miss Gracen.
**They mustn't They would frighten her to death. Go.
Stop them!"
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MISS BYPATH STOOD HER GROUND IN SNOW NEARLY A FOOT DEEP
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rROPERTY
Or HE
, I
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VICTORIA GRACEN 22S
She took her Jiand from his strong arm, and pushed him
forward ; and Wayne, with a back glance of assurance at her,
took long strides upward, shouting at the very top of his
strong limgs:
'^ Cut that out, boys ! Cut it out I '* Though of course
in the clamor his words were not heard.
Miss Bypath stood her ground in snow nearly a foot deep,
and frowned ominously at the oncoming boys. At first she
did not understand them; and then her ire rose with increased
force at the indignity put upon her, a respectable woman.
She did not think it worth while to answer them. She would
crush them by ignoring them. But, when they made toward
her with that fragile sled, and declared their intention of
putting her on it and sending her down that fearful declivily,
with its bumps and curves, and glistening, winding, ribbony
track, panic seized upon her.
" Don't you dare to lay a finger upon me, you — ^you ^^
she screamed, and stamped her foot in its squashy arctic in-
effectually in the deep, powdery snow.
Then to her excited imagination it seemed that Victoria
Gracen was lauding at her, and that she had sent another
boy to help them on in their disgraceful attempt to put her
on the sled and ride her down that hill, — ^probably just so that
Victoria might have company in her own disgrace.
If those four boys had been four fiends rushing on to
drag her down to the bottomless pit, Lydia Bypath could not
have picked up her respectable skirts with more expedition,
j^QT made her thin ankles fly faster through the impeding
gnow. On she went, faster and faster, her breath growing
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2124 THE OBSESSION OF
shorter, her eyes blinded with the flopping veil which de-
scended over her face, her arctics getting heavier and heavier,
until, just as she was almost to the pasture fence where the
bars were let down, she caught her foot against a bowlder
that lay hidden under the blanket of snow, and went down
full length, with her nose in the cold, cold snow; with snow
up her nose, and snow in her eyes, and snow in her ears^ and
even, when she gave an involuntary cry, snow in her re-
spectable, back-biting mouth. It was a terrible fall for both
her pride and her body; and she lay there for a whole second,
dazed and floundering, until the snow up her sleeves made
itself felt, and she was impelled to rise.
The boys stood bent double, laughing at the grotesque
figure as it fled across the snowy pasture; and even Miss
Gracen had to smile at the precipitate flight of their guest
when offered the entertainment of the occasion, albeit her
smile had a shade of trouble in its wavering.
She arrived at the top just before Miss Bypath's down-
fall and just in time to hear Tom's disrespectfully expressed
wish that he could wash her little, mean face for her in the
snow.
"0 Tom,** she said sorrowfully, ^^0 Tom, that isn't
right. You must not speak so about her."
" Aw, Miss Vic,'* said Tom, his face as red as his hair
because he had been overheard, ^'I didn't know you were
there; but indeed. Miss Vic, I can't bear that woman. You
don't know all she's done to me all my life. Why, one time
I was with some boys that stole her apples. I hadn't touched
one. I was too little; I was just a real small kid; and she
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VICTORIA GRACEN 225
caught 'em at it, and chased 'em, and they got away; and so
she grabbed me. I told her I hadn't touched her old apples,
but she wouldn't believe me. She said I'd told a lie and she
was going to punish me for it ; so she took me into her kitchen,
and got some soft soap and hot water, and washed my mouth
out, for a lie she knew I hadn't told. I hadn't an apple, nor
hadn't had, and she knew it She's the meanest old thing
alive."
^^ But she's a woman, Tom; and, 0, see, she's fallen down !
I'm afraid she's 'badly hurt"
It was Wayne who went with long, swift strides through
the snow to her assistance, and went before there had been
time to ask him to do it.
Lydia Bypath lifted her head fearfully from her cold,
feathery plunge, and gazed about her, gasping, brushing the
snow from her eyes; and there close at hand was one of those
terrible boys coming rapidly on.
Floundering and ahnost hysterical, she scuttled to her
feet, and turning to face him, her frightened eyes flashing blue
sparks, her shaking voice calling out:
^' Don't you come another step toward me ! Don't you dare
to lay a finger on me I You bad, bad boy I "
'^ I was only coming to help you up," said Wayne haughtily,
stopping at once. ''Are you hurt?"
''Help me up? Yes, help me up! I understand what
kind of help you would give me. I know who you are. Your
father is in prison for committing a crime, and you'll be
there some day yourself. You are a wicked boy. Don't you
dare come another step ! "
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228 THE OBSESSION OP
Wayne stood, tall, broad-shouldered, fine and handsome,
facing her as she hurled the hideous words at him; and his
face grew white with wrath. He clinched his fists hard inside
his sweater pockets. If she had been a man, it would have
gone hard with her that day ; but she was only a foolish, cranky
woman, and he was a gentleman; so he stood, and answered
her not a word, with his hands held hard in his pockets, his
chin held haughtily like a young king, his fine eyes looking
steadily, blackly into hers. Something in their look warned
her that she had said enough, for she turned shakily, and began
to wabble and wallow her way out through the pasture to the
road.
Wayne stood and watched her until she crept through
the fence and made her way to a cleared path; then he turned,
with darkness in his face and a tumult in his shadowed heart,
and came back to the waiting group.
^' She's a mutt! '^ he said, frowning, and that was all he
said; but Miss Gracen knew that something very great had
troubled the soul of her boy, and she set about thinking how
she might heal the hurt.
They went on coasting, but Wayne laughed aloud in free
enjoyment no more. He took his place solemnly, went silently
down with the rest; was kinder and more thoughtful to Miss
Gracen than ever, seeming to anticipate eveiy little need and
prepare for it; but he said nothing, and at last Tom blurted
out:
*' Whafs the matter, Forrie ? Where'd you get the grouch ?
Lost your heart to Bydia Pylath?''
But Wayne only frowned, and did not answer.
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VICTORIA GRACEN 227
Meantime, Nemesis, trembling, bnt still determined, made
her slow and tortuous way to the street and to her own home.
She was much shaken by her fright and falls, and she was
still trembliQg with anger; but she meant now to let nothing
stand in the way of her vengeance. Those boys should meet
with the punishment they deserved, and Victoria Gracen
would have to take her disgrace along with them. She would
hide Victoria's d^ading "goings-on'' no longer. They
should come to light and have the judgment of public opinion
upon them. Only public opinion could now save Victoria
Gracen from utter wreck and ruin.
She stole to her home, set the key in her lock, and went
in to put on some dry gloves and remove the extra snow
from her wrists and ankles. It took half an hour to dry the
inside of her arctics by the kitchen fire and get on a set of
dry sleeves throughout; then, fortified by a cup of strong
tea, the little vixen girded herself up once more, and set out
on her self-appointed mission down the street to the parsonage
gate.
Now it happened that the minister had just returned, cold
and weary, from a far funeral in the country. He had driven
in the teeth of the wind twenty miles, over roads that were
still unbroken, and where sometimes the only way to get on
was to follow the tops of the fences and get out and help the
horse wallow through the drifts. The harrowing scenes
through which he had passed at the house of mourning, and
the long, hard drive back, had taken his strength. His wife
had just brought him a cup of tea and a plate of delicious
buttered toast made by her own hands, with a soft-boiled
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«28 THE OBSESSION OF
egg inyitingly dropped <m the toast, when the door-bell rang
and Lydia Bypath entered.
The minister^a slippered feet were slowly thawing in
front of the study fire, and he had taken but one bite of the
toast and one life-giving swallow of that tea; but the blunder-
ing maid, a farmer's daughter who was cheap and self-suflS-
dent, ushered IGss Bypath into the sacred precincts of the
study because the wily visitor had asked whether she might
go right in where the minister was, as she had Bome very
private business with him.
The minister was taken at a disadvantage. He saw in his
visitor's eye keen disapproval of a mid-afternoon meal for a
man who had a large parish and should have been at work.
At a single glance she took in the dressing-gown and the
slippered feet, the bright fire, and easy chair, and with a
tone of implication said:
*^ Oh, I didn't know that you were ill, Mr. Atterbury.''
" Not ill. Miss Bypath,'' said the minister with as good a
grace as he could command, getting to his feet with the plate
and cup in his hands. "I'm getting a bite after a long,
dinnerless day. I've just returned from a funeral over at
West Forks."
" Oh," perked Miss Bypath, ready for a bit of gossip be-
fore she opened up her budget, and quite prepared to study
the contents of the minister's plate and report to the con-
gregation how his wife fed him.
But the minister had no mind to eat his lunch under in-
spection, and with a courteous '' You will excuse me for just
a moment, Miss Bypath," he carried his comfortable lunch
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VICTORIA GRACEN 2«9
into the cold dining-room, gulped his enp of tea, took one bite
of the delicately browned toast> and with a lingering, wistful
glance at the rest went back to his caller. There had been that
in Lydia Bypath^s manner and eyes that indicated an un-
pleasant interview ahead, and he wanted to get it over as
soon as possible.
He had, however, made nothing by carrying his plate
away from her gaze, for she always doubled her animosity
when people tried to escape her vigilance. Moreover, he had
given her time to gather her shaken forces and prepare her
initial remarks. She opened up fire even before the minister
sat down, and her tone caused him to choose a stiff, hard chair
by his desk rather than the comfortable seat in front of the
fire. He would have need of his utmost dignity, he knew; for
he had experienced calls like this from her before.
^' Mr. Atterbury, the time has come for something to be
done, and done quickly,^' she announced with righteous vehe-
mence; **and, as your own eldest-bom is involved in the dis-
graceful case, I thought it best to come straight to you with
the matter.^'
This was the wuy she had begun on several former occa-
sions when Tom had been supposed to have been stealing ap-
ples, smashing street-lights, or breaking windows with his
ever-blameful ball.
The minister started, and sighed. He had been a little
more comfortable about Tom lately, for no one had complained
of him for six whole months. He had hoped the boy was
beginning to grow up and leave behind some of his youthful
sins and follies.
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280 VICTORIA GRACEN
'^I am veiy sony to hear that my son has been getting
into trouble again/* said the minister gravely. ^^ What is the
charge you have to bring against him? **
'^ It is a most painful matter/* vrept Lydia Bypath, getting
out her handkerchief and allowing the copious drops to trickle
down her thin cheeks; "but I always do my duty by my
friends, and I felt you must know at once ^^
*^Yes?** said the minister, preparing himself for the
worst He knew one could not hurry Miss Bypatii in her
preamble.
There was silence in the study, broken only by dramatic
sniffs for a minute; then the caller raised her vindictive little
eyes and in a half whisper that reminded the minister of a
serpent's hiss, she told him.
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CHAPTEE XVII
" I HAVE been grossly insulted and ill-treated, Mr. Atter-
bnry, this very afternoon, and by your son, in company with a
lot of other good-for-nothing mflBans,— ruflfians — ^it is the only
word I can use to fully express what they are, — one of them
the son of a common thief. I have only escaped as by a
miracle from an actual assault, and I am so much shaken that
I can scarcely tell the story calmly/'
^^ You cannot mean that my son insulted you, Itfiss Bypath.
I am sure there must be some mistake. Tom has been rather a
mischeivous boy, but I am sure he has always shown respect
to ladies.^'
Miss Bypath lifted her tear-stained face impressively.
** Did you ever know me to tell a falsehood, Mr. Atterbury ?
You know that I am speaking the truth, and I am not mis-
taken. It was your son who started the whole thing, and
who put the other — ruflBans — ^up to giving me chase. I will
tell you just" how it happened, that you may understand the
case; but you won^t mind my breaking down, for I have been
through a great deal, and am scarcely able to sit up.'* She
eyed the big chair by the fire; but the minister sat up very
straight, and took no hints. He wanted to hear the story to
its finish now, and she was forced to go on.
"I have been very much troubled for weeks about my
dear friend Victoria Qracen, and the disgraceful way in which
she is going on. Of course, it is an infatuation, and at her
time of life it is all the more pitiable. Mr. Atterbury, you
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832 THE OBSESSION OF
have no idea to what lengths she goes. Why^ the sounds
that proceed from her house at all hours of the day and night
whenever those wild, ungovemed creatures axe let loose there
are unbelievable 1 And Sundays ! Sundays I Just think of it
They have regular feasts, I am told. Think of the old
Gracen mansion harboring an orgy of wild, disreputable, bad
boys on the Sabbath! And the respectable servants are
obliged, I am told, to work harder on the Sabbath than on any
other day to provide feasts for all this mob. I wonder they
don't leave, I. certainly do. Poor Victoria has no more idea
than a babe in arms what she has brought upon herself, for
the whole town is talking about her. They are using very
severe expressions indeed; in fact, they are using words about
her that are not at all nice.'' She lowered her voice to the
hissing whisper again. ^^ Obsession,'' she hissed; ^^that was
the word they used. They said she was obsessed with boys.
I wouldn't mention it if it weren't impori»nt that you should
know, being a minister of the gospel; and of course you'll
underijtand. I know, of course, that some of the modem
women are using it in their club papers just to be fashionable;
but I don't think it is at all a pleasant word to use, and it
breaks my heart to have it used about my d-e-a-r — o-l-d —
f-r-r-i-e-n-d."
Here she sobbed tenderly.
*^ But," raising her head and going at her duty again, she
went on, '^you'll quite imderstand how I hated to tell her;
€md I put it off, and put it off, hearing as I do from my near
vicinity the awful sounds almost every night of the week,
not excepting the Sabbath. They tell me it is the kind of
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VICTORIA GRACEN 233
music used in saloons called ^the rag/ Fm sure I can^t
understand how Victoria, being a musician, ever brought her-
self to endure it. It drives me into a sick-headache three
doors away. Well, as I was saying, I made up my mind to go
and tell her all this very afternoon; and I took my life in my
hand, and went through this light snow, and me with the
lumbago and neuralgia. But, when I got to her house, I
found her out. And where do you think she was? Why, Mr.
Atterbury, I couldn't have believed it. Even her faithful, old,
man-servant was embarrassed, and wouldn't tell me till I
guessed and made him own up. She was ovi behind the house
with a whole mob of boys sliding down hUll At her age,
sliding down hUl! Her hair was all mussed up; and she had
on a cap and mittens, just like a giddy girl; and those boys
were helping her up the hUl as fine as you please, just exactly
as if she were one of them ; and she didn't seem to mind a bit !
I tell you this that you may see that she really needs some-
body to talk to her and make her understand. She's — ^I beg
your pardon — ^she's obsessed; that's what she really is."
She paused for appropriate shock to appear in the minis-
ter's face; but instead a kind of sympathetic gleam came into
his eyes, and his face wore an inscrutable expression, an un-
biased watcher might even have thought it a look of satisfac-
tion. But the story went on before he had opportunity to
say anything.
"I saw her go sliding down that awful abyss." Miss
Bypath had learned many hymns as a child, and occasionally
utilized some of their vocabulary in her conversation. ''I
saw her with my own eyes, though I could scarcely believe my
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2S4 THE OBSESSION OP
senses; and then, when she came back np the hill, those awful
boys came ahead of her; and your son was ahead of them all.
When he saw me, I grieve to say, he gave a shout of wicked
glee, and ran at me with all his might, calling to me in the
most insolent way, that now he was going to give me a ride,
and threatening if I refused he would put me on his sled in
spite of myself. Think of the outrage of even suggesting such
a thing to a respectable woman like myself/' Here the tears
flowed freely. '^ And the worst of it was,'' she said, sobbing
now with an ^^ et-tu-Brute " manner, *^ that — ^my — dear — old
— ^friend, who used to sit in the same seat in school with me,
and give me apples and cake out of her lunch-basket, not
only didn't stop them, but actually sent another boy, that
son— of — ^a — ^forger, to chase me; and I'm sure she was laugh-
ing at my dis-dis-dis-comfiture."
Here her feelings completely got the better of her, and
she sobbed outright.
The minister, who was having all he could do to control
his facial muscles, attempted to interrupt with an ^'0, no.
Miss Bypath, you^re mistaken. Miss Qracen would never do
that."
Btit she put in fiercely once more:
'^No, you wouldn't think she would; but I tell you she's
utterly changed. Utterly! Why, the other night I was
there, and asked to see her alone; and she as good as told me
that whatever I had to say I must say before that whole
mob of ioyst And your son, I regret to say, was present on
that occasion also, and got off a very insulting remark about
wish-bones to me. I have put up with a great ded from that
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VICTORIA GRACEN «*>
boy through the years, but I felt that the time had come to
makp all known to his father ^^
" But Miss Bypath/' began the minister.
^^ Kindly let me finish my story/' she went on with dignity,
^' and then I will leave the matter in your hands. They in-
sulted me, as I was saying; and, when they found I resented
their insolent language, they came at me to put me bodily on
that awful sled of theirs I But for a miracle I might even
now be lying, a ghastly spectacle, scattered in the valley by
the creek.''
It was not from his gentle mother's side of the family that
Tom Atterbury had inherited his keen sense of the ridiculous,
and there suddenly came over the minister such a strong de-
sire to throw his head back and laugh that for an instant he
felt it impossible to control it. The vision of severe, little
Miss Bjrpath flying down the long Gracen hill and lying
scattered over the snowy valley in many fragments seemed a
possibility so grotesque that he was about to beat a hasty re-
treat from the room until he could bring his face into order
again; but just then Miss Bypath terminated her effective
pause, and began again.
*^ Now, it is not for myself that I have come to you; it is
for the salvation of your son. When I remember Eli's sons,
and the bears that ate the forty and four thousand children, I
feel that I should be unpardonable if I did not bring this to
your knowledge; and I know you will be grateful. It seems to
me that the first thing you should do would be to stop your
son's going to Miss Qracen's, and forbid his having anything
more to do with those evil companions of his. A Sabbath-
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288 THE OBSESSION OF
breaking crowd is no fit place for a minister's son, and I have
been surprised at you for allowing him to go out on the Sab-
bath, though, of course, I suppose you did not know what he
was doing/'
It was not the first time since Mr. Atterbury had been
pastor in Boslyn that Miss Lydia Bypath had attempted to
teach him how to bring up his children. He had the meek
and quiet spirit which knew how to take the thing sweetly aod
go on doing as he thought best in spite of it, but the warning
she gave this time touched an uneasy spot in the minister's
mind. He had never been satisfied about those companions
of Tom's, nor quite happy about his going out every Sunday
evening for supper. Several times he had questioned Tom,
but always to have his worst fears allayed, and a shadow of
hope for his boy's future raised in its place. Now, however,
the vague uneasiness returned.
" Miss Bypath," he said kindly, when he saw she had quite
finished, " I am sorry, indeed, that my boy has distressed and
frightened you in any way. I shall talk with him about it as
soon as he returns home, and I feel conviuced that he will be
able to explain his side of the matter so that the affair will be
proved to be nothing worse than a mistaken attempt at fun.
Tom has no unkindly feeling toward you. He is a kiud-
hearted boy ^^
" We do not always see iuto the hearts of those with whom
we live the closest; the human heart is deceitful and des-
perately wicked," quoted the visitor righteously.
" And a^ for Miss Gracen's Sabbath afternoons,'^ went on
the minister ignoring her implication, '^ I have been given to
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VICTORIA GRACEN 237
understand that they are most orderly affairs. Miss Qracen
reads to the boys, and they sing hymns; the feasts I am told,
are simple, — sandwiches and cookies and the like. I have really
felt that Miss Gracen was most kind to try to help the boys in
this way.*'
" You hiwe been given to understand," repeated Miss By-
path ominiously. '^ May I ask who gave you to understand? '*
She faced the minister xmflinchingly with her keen, little eyes,
and read her answer in his guilty brown ones so like his son's.
*' Your son gave you to understand, didn't he ? Of course.
Where else could you find out? And I am grieved to tell
you that he has probably told you his own version of what
goes on. Naturally he wants to keep up his Sabbath-breaking,
and he knows he can't if you find it out. But let alone the
question of whether you want your son to be a Sabbath-breaker
or not, Mr. Atterbury; you surely don't want the whole town
talking about you because you let your son take part in dis-
orderly gatherings on Sunday. Mr. Atterbuiy, if those after-
noons of Miss Qracen's are all right, why doesn't she invite
you to come and speak to the boys? What right haa she to
set up a meeting in her house as if she were an opposition
church ? I should think you as her pastor would think it your
duty to investigate, and I have come here this afternoon to
demand aa a member of your flock that you exercise your
official duty over my friend Victoria Gracen, and go and find
out what she is doing on Sunday afternoon."
*^I have no doubt Miss Gracen would be quite glad to
have me come in on one of her meetings if she were asked,"
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2S8 THE OBSESSION OF
risked the minister^ trying to be evasive ; but his caller caught
him up quickly enough.
'' Don't ask her for pity's sake/' put in Lydia, the ferret;
"just drop down upon her, and catch her in the midst of her
folly. Then you will be able to speak to her from what you
have seen. If you tell her beforehand, like as not there won't
be a boy there, and everything will be as staid as the meeting-
house. Just go in there to-morrow afternoon after they all
get there, and see for yourself. Come over to my house, and
you can watch till they all go by, and you hear them sing the
first song; and thai you can be sure they're well started."
Miss Bypath's eyes gleamed with the excitement of the
chase, as the old Pharisees' eyes must have twinkled when
they were pursuing the Christians. She honestly thought
she was doing Grod service by exposing Victoria Gracen's
follies to the minister, who had a right to upbraid her and
show her the error of her ways.
The minister sat calmly facing her, wondering how best
and most quickly to send her on her way. At last he said
gravely, quietly,
'^ Very well. Miss Bypath ; I will do as you have suggested
to-morrow afternoon, on one condition; and that is that
you do not open your mouth on this subject to a living soul
until I give you permission." He looked at her kindly but
firmly, and she drew her breath in a quick gasp of dis-
appointment.
She opened her mouth to speak, and shut it with a snap.
Then she opened it again.
"But ''
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VICTORIA GRACEN 2S9
The minister raised his hand.
*^ Miss Bypath, you have put this matter in my hands for
investigation ; and, if I am to deal with it, I want it abso-
lutely left with me. I cannot consent to do anything about
it unless you will be absolutely silent about the matter to every
one.''
" Do you mean that I mustn't mention the indignities that
were put upon me by those evil boys, either ? "
"I do."
**But isn't it right that people should know how bad
they are?"
*^ I don't see what is to be gained by it."
^^ Don't you believe in punishing sinners ? "
*^ Yes, but not necessarily in publishing their faults."
*^But I tell you I had a bad fall, and got all wet with
snow; and I expect I shall be very sick. I feel as though it
were coming on now. I shall have to call in the doctor. I
suppose you've no objection to my telling him."
^* I must insist that you mention the matter to no one."
^* What will the doctor think? I'll have to tell him some-
thing."
*^Tell him you had a bad fall in the snow, and were
frightened. He doesn't need to know anything else."
"But isn't that deception?" asked the little woman
sharply.
" Not to tell him a lot of details that are not his business ?
No."
''You talk very heartlessly," sniffed Lydia; "but I sup-
pose I don't understand the heart of a parent."
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240 THE OBSESSION OF
*' Probably not. Miss Bypath. However, on this occasion
I am not thinking so much of my son's reputation as of Miss
Graeen's and I must insist on having this kept absolutely
between us for the present/'
With much dissatisfaction Miss Bypath arose to take her
leave. She had not started the tremendous rumpus that she
had expected, and it was quite flat to go home and keep still
until to-morrow afternoon. Her heart burned hotly against
her one-time friend and against those horrid boys who dared
to ridicule her. To see them set up in high places where she
would fain have been herself was more than she could bear.
And yet, if she would have her way and let the ministei'
investigate, she must do as he had bidden.
In silent but submissive wrath she went her grim way
home. Her thin limbs trembled more than when she came,
and her whole being was utterly used up. She wanted
nothing so much as to lie down and rest. The tears weakly
trickled down her faded cheeks, and yet they were mad tears.
She was outraged to the depths of her respectable, embittered
nature; and her huri; pride demanded redress. She wanted
with all her heart to have Victoria Gracen suffer for it, suffer
for the mortification she herself had passed through when,
she fled through the snow and lay in a heap at the mercy of the
village boys, the echo of their ridiculing laughter ringing
all about her.
So she crept to her home and her bed ; and, as there was
no satisfaction in sending for a doctor who couldn't be told
the cause of her disaffection, she made some herb tea and
drank it, rubbed herself well with arnica, and went to bed.
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VICTORIA GRACEN 241
Albeit the next morning, stiff and sore though she was, she
could not refrain from gathering herself together and going
to church just to see whether Victoria Gracen would be there,
and hear whether the sermon would contain some covert hit
at her goings-on.
The minister did not need to put his son through an in-
quisitorial process to get his side of the story that evening;
he gave it freely and with many amusing variations at the
supper-table.
** We offered her a ride, f ather,'' he said, his eyes twinkling
with the memory; ^'and you just ought to have seen her
beat it. I don^t guess she^l chase Miss Vic out to the meadow
again in a hurry.^'
Plainly Tom had nothing to hide, and had apparently
told the whole story. The minister hesitated on the edge of a
reproof, and scarcely knew what to say, there were so many
subtle shades of difference between Tom^s story and Miss
Bypath's.
Moreover, he did not at present wish to let the boy know
that Miss Bypath had been complaining to him.
" Were you entirely respectful to Miss Bypath, my sonf
queried the minister with a troubled look.
"Why, yes, dad,*' responded Tom heartily. "We were
real cordial, and offered her a ride the minute she appeared on.
the scene.''
"Wasn't it rather impertinent in you to do that, son,
when you knew she would not care for that sort of thing?
Would she not take it as a sort of insult, an attempt to hold her
up to ridicule?"
16
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S42 THE OBSESSION OF
Tom's innocent brown eyes looked roundly into those of
his father.
''Why, dad, there wasn't any reason for her to take it
that way. We'd have taken her down in great shape if she'd
let US. I even offered to put her on the sled comfortably.
Of course, she's no old sport like Miss Vic, but she might have
been polite. We meant to show her a good time for once;
we really did. Say, dad, wouldn't it have been great to see
Miss Bypath sailing down the long hill ? I bet it would have
got into her blood after she once tried it, and you'd have seen
her out on the sly, moonlight nights, sliding by herself. Miss
Vic enjoyed every minute of the afternoon, and didn't mind
a tumble any more than us fellows, though, of course, we
didn't let her tumble much."
The minister suddenly asked a question which appeared to
his son entirely irrelevant.
''What kind of a boy is Wayne Forrest?"
''He's all white, father. You'd like him; you really
would," said Tom eagerly. "Miss Vic thinks he's great.
She raves over his voice, and I certainly do like to hear him
sing. He's polite and all that. You aud mother would think
he was some. He thinks to do all the little things you are
always talking about, taking off hats and helping people.
Why, he even ran ahead to try and pick up Miss Bypath when
she fell over in the snow after she had been so impolite as to
run away from us and call us names. Forrie was as mad as
anybody at the way she acted, but he went and tried to pick
her up; and then she wouldn't let him. She just reared up
when he came near her, like a fishing-worm, and began to rave
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VICTORIA GRACEN JW8
at him, till he got his chin up in the air, aad stood back and
let her get up herself. She told him not to dare to touch her,
and she called him the son of a thief. He didn't know I heard
her, and he never said a word about it when he came back;
but we all heard enough to know she was reminding him of his
father's disgrace. I tell you it was pretty tough on Forrie,
but he came back and never said a word about it, just looked
dark and had a grouch on the rest of the afternoon. Even
Miss Vic couldn't bring him out of it, aad he wouldn't hear
to staying to supper, though she asked us. He went home
and so we all did. He's an all-right fellow, dad. He seems to
. like to come to church now, too."
The minister walked hi^. study that night for a long time,
trying to make up his mind what to say to his son about
apologizing to Miss Bjrpath, and finally decided to wait until
the next day. He did not want to reprove him for nothing,
neither did he want to do any half-way business if the boy
really was to blame. He decided to investigate a little further,
and perhaps have a conference with Miss Gracen before moving
in the matter. It was his ability to look on the other side of
a question which made some of his flock feel that he hadn't
any backbone when certain pet hobbies of theirs were at
stake. However, late that night, when he heard Tom starting
up-stairs to bed after an evening of really hard study, he
called to him.
**Tom, I feel troubled about your conduct toward Miss
Bypath. I would like you to go to her sometime to-morrow
• and explain that you meant no discourtesy in offering her a
ride on your sled."
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244 THE OBSESSION OF
Tom's face grew blank. *' Oh, dad r he protested. ''She'll
just flare up some more.''
*' Never mind; you will have done your duly. I shall feel
concerned about the matter until you have made it right. Will
you attend to it to-morrow? "
'* Sure," said Tom, his ready cheerfulness coming upper-
most. After all, he bore Miss Bypath no ill-will, and she had
given them a good laugh. Why should he not explain if it
pleased his father? He supposed it was pretty tough. on her^
getting all that snow up her sleeves and falling down, though
she had no business to speak to Wayne Forrest that way;
and his heart burned hot with wrath as he mounted the stairs
to his room, pondering in his boy-way whether he could not
work in a little reproof to her along with his own apology
and explanation, and kill two birds with one stone. If his
father could have known his thoughts, he might not have sat
down to his belated sermon with quite so easy a mind. How-
ever, Tom was not all bad, and he really meant to make it right
with Lydia Bypath, even if he did intend to give her a few
facts concerning her own conduct which he felt she ought to
know.
The household slept. The minister finished his sermon,
and knelt to pray for a blessing on his work of the morrow,
and to plead that the task of investigating the matter of Miss
Oracen's boys might not be so difiScult as it seemed at present;
then he went up-stairs to his well-earned rest.
Two miles out on a lonely, country road in the little, cold
attic chamber a strong boy tossed on his bed, and his heart
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VICTORIA GRACEN M5
burned hot within him over the words of shame that had
been flung at him by a woman's lips that afternoon. In the
darkness hot, scorching tears bumed their way into his eyes.
His father! Oh, his father! Why had he sinned and left
such a heritage of shame for his son and daughter when he
went to pay his penalty by a living death? Was there a God,
as Miss Gracen had almost made him believe ? And, if
there was, why did He let such things happen to people who
were not in the least to blame?
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CHAPTER XVin
Miss Qukomr was in her place in church that morning,
with the boy Richard by her side; and a few minutes later,
just as the first hymn was being announced, Harold Constable
came hurriedly up the aisle as if he were being waited for,
and, slipping past Dick and Miss Qracen, sat down on the
other side of her. It was the first time he had been to church
in the morning, and Miss Oracen gave him a radiant smile
in welcome. Lydia Bypath took that smile as a personal
insult Next to the minister's son and the forger's son she
hated this child of a wealthy and snobbish mother who never
recognized her on the street, nor asked her to any of her teas,
though they had been members of the same club for five years
or more.
The minister from his seat in the pulpit noted the look
of devotion on the boy's face, and knew without being told
that he had come to church to please Miss Gracen. In-
voluntarily Mr. Atterbury glanced toward Miss Bypath to
see whether she had noticed; and he caught the gleam of
hatred in her face, and sighed as his Lord might have done
over the Pharisees, who paid their tithe of mint, anise, and
cumin.
When service was out, he took special pains to shake hands
with Harold Constable. Something in the hearty grasp of the
lad's hand as he said in his easy way, ^^ Cood-moming, Mr.
Atterbury ; thank you ; I enjoyed being here,'* gave him a thrill
of new hope for his ministry. What if such young fellows as
846
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VICTORIA GRACEN 847
this wotdd give their livee to Christ and come into the church
and serve the Kingdom? How wonderful it would be!
What if his own Tom wonld some day love and serve the
Lord?
He smiled tmderstandingly at Miss Oracen as she mur-
mured her pleasant " Gtood-moming/^ and knew that the joy
in her eyes was because the Constable boy had been in the morn-
ing service.
^Tm glad you preached just that sermon this special
morning/^ she murmured in a low voice as she passed him;
and her eyes sought significantly the handsome^ curly head
just in front of them.
The minister had asked for light about the investigation
he was to make that afternoon, and it would seem as if the
heavenly Father were answering his prayer in a very special
way that day. As he walked slowly and thoughtfully from
the church study, where he had been detained by one of his
elders in a few minutes^ conversation, he came up with Mr.
Constable, who in high silk hat and Prince Albert coat, with
a long cigar, a white bulldog, and a quaintly gnarled cane for
company, was taking a Simday stroll. Indeed, it seemed
that Mr. Constable actually halted, and turned to wait for
the minister, instead of hurrying by and ignoring him, as was
his custom. Mr. Constable had little use for churches and
ministers in his life.
''Good morning, Mr. Atterbnry, good morning,*' he
greeted him. '' Fine morning for the middle of winter, isn't
it ? Too bright to stay indoors. Had a big congregation this
morning, didn't you? I think I saw my son coming out.
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248 THE OBSESSION OF
•Well, it can't hurt him. PretJy good place to pass away the
time for a boy of that age. Since his mother's away I guess
the boy does about as he pleases. But I'm glad to see he's
taking an interest in church. I used to when I was a boy,
myself; had to go, in fact, every Sunday, and got enough of it
to last the rest of my life, ha, ha ! " He laughed as if the joke
were a good one. *' But if s different when a boy goes of his
own free will. I'm glad to see Harold taking an interest.
That young Gracen's a nice sort; seems like his father before
liinL I remember what a good ball-player he was. Misa
Gracen's got a lot of sense about boys. My boy's quite stuck
on her. She makes her home very attractive for them. Harold
thinks there's nobody like her. By the way, I want to make
a contribution to the church if my son is to share in its
benefits."
He put his hand into his pocket and drew out a long
wallet, selecting two bills of large denomination and handing
them to the bewildered Mr. Atterbury.
*'Just take those, and use t)iem where they're most
needed, won't you? And, when you've any special call for
more, just let me know. Ill be glad to contribute regularly.
Good-morning. I'm glad my boy Harold is taking an interest
in the church. I wish I'd done so myself when I waa
young."
And the portly gentleman touched his hat and turned
down the avenue before the minister could recover from
his surprise sufficiently to thank him.
It happened that the home-mission collection for that
month had been very small indeed, and the minister had been
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VICTORIA GRACEN 249
troubled in his own heart about how he could afford to swell it
to less mean proportions out of his own slender *' tenth/' which
often stretched and stretched until it became more like a fifth
than a tenth.
While he was eating dinner, there came a call for the
minister to come at once to an old man who was dying just
on the outskirts of the village; and whom should he meet
as he came out of the house after his call was made but Wayne
Forrest?
Wayne's brow was still dark and his eyes were burning
imhappily. He had almost made up his mind — ^not quite —
to stay away from Miss Gracen's house that afternoon, just
from the memory of those awful words of Miss Bypath's. If
he had known the minister was to open that door and come
out to the road at the moment he was passing, he would have
gone miles out of his way to avoid the meeting. He frowned
now, and tried to hasten his steps, hoping the minister would
not know him; but Mr. Atterbury held out his hand with a
smile of greeting. Here was another answer to his prayer,
another opportunity to find out about Miss Gracen's work
among her boys.
"Well, Forrest, glad to see you,'' he said, grasping the
reluctant hand the boy held out. ''I've been hearing good
things about you from my son. He is telling me what a fine
voice you have. Going down to the village? Thafs good;
then I shall have company."
Wayne's brows lowered. He did not want to walk with
the minister, but there seemed no choice; yet, strange to say,
they had not been walking together five minutes before he
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250 THE OBSESSION OF
forgot his gloom^ and was laxigliing. The minister had a
way with him that reminded him of Tom, and Wayne was
surprised out of himself.
"When Mr. Atterbnry referred to his singing again, the boy
answered half shyly:
''Oh, my vwee isn^t much; ifs only that Miss Qracen
likes it, I gaess. I just sing a little to please her. I never
sing for any one else.''
'' She's a great little woman, isn't she ? " said the minister
leadingly; and before he knew it Wayne was telling some of
the things she had done for him. She was helping him to
keep up with the school studies, so that if opportonily offered
he eonld go to college some day.
'* Of course I can't ever go to college," added the boy as
if it were a joke; "but ifs rather interesting to get ready.
I want to know all the things, anjrway; and whafs college,
after all, if you know as much?"
" Thaf s a sensible way to look at it," said the minister;
*' still, college is college, and there are ways to go, you know.
Keep on getting ready. Maybe one will come your way."
** No chance of that ever for me," said the boy grufBly,
kicking a block of frozen snow out of his way. ''My life's
cut out all the way ahead."
The minister, studying the fine, strong, sad face of the
boy, was stirred as Miss Gracen had been, and decided that
Tom had been right He did like Wayne Forrest. His heart
burned within him that Lydia Bypath had dared to hurt
him by a reference to his father.
Mr. Atterbury linked his arm in the boy's as he might have
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VICTORIA GRACEN 251
doae with his own son^ and so walked into town with him;
he might have preached at him, hut he didn^t. All he said
was: ** Maybe not, maybe not. We can^t always see ahead/'
and then he led him to talk of other things and of Miss
Gracen's Sabbath afternoons \mtil they reached the parson-
age, and the boy's eyes lighted with pleasure in saying good-
bye as the minister told him how glad he had been to see
him in church, and how he should enjoy him all the better as a
list^ier now that he knew him as a friend.
He had rather planned to stop at Miss Qracen's on the way
home from his call, but it seemed unwise to do so in Wajme
Forrest's company; moreover, Wayne had made no move to go
into the Gracen gate himself. It was probably too early for
the meeting to have begun. So Mr. Atterbury sat by his study
window, watching behind the curtain until he saw Wayne
Forrest return with Harold Constable and two other boys and
whistle softly for Tom, who presently joined them. They
went down the street together. Even then he paused, and
waited a half-hour, kneeling by his old study-chair for guid-
ance in this most delicate maitter that he was about to imder-
take.
Out in the street again he perceived a large gray-haired
man across the road, who took especial pains to bow to him,
and finally, after hesitating, crossed over at the next comer
and walked with him. He was a contractor, and anything
but a religious man.- He had never had much use for Mr.
Atterbury before, and had always gruflBy declined the various
invitations to church the minister had given him; but now
his ruddy countenance was beaming.
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«52 THE OBSESSION OF
^^ Pleasant afternoon/' he said, and adjusted his gait to
the minister's.
Mr. Atterbury, much surprised, answered him afiPably,
and wondered inwardly at the changed manner of his com-
panion.
** Say, you got one member of your church that's an A No.
1 Christian all right,'' was his next remark.
*'Is that so?" laughed the minister. '* Which one is
that?"
** Well, there ain't but one like her," said the man, ** and
from all I hear tell she's doin' f er your son same's she is f er
mine; so I've no need to mention her name. I think you
know who I mean."
The man's heart was so evidently overflowing with pride
that his son should even be counted in the same category
with the minister's that it was impossible to resent the im-
plication of the words ; besides, Mr. Atterbury knew that Tom's
life had not been exemplary in all ways; so he responded
most heartily:
" Oh, is your son one of those who go to Miss Gracen's
house? She seems to be giving them delightful times there.
Does he enjoy it?"
" Enjoy itl I should ruther guess he does," said the man
heartily; *'why, he can't talk of nothin' else from momin'
to night when he's home. It's, * Ma, don't f ergit to have me a
clean shirt f er to-night, 'cause I hev to go to Miss Gracen's,'
er, ' Ma, you'd jus' oughter make some cake oncet like Miss
Gracen's Eebeccer made last week.' He's tock to singin',
too. I guess he ain't got much voice, but it sounds real
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VICTORIA GRACEN 258
cheerful round the house; and he reads a lot. I don't think
myself he keers much about books, but he'll do any old thing
f er her. Why, he's even took to goin' to church nights. I
guess you've noticed."
The minister remembered that this man's stolid, young son
had been of the group that Miss Oracen marshalled into ser-
vice last week.
**You see," he went on volubly, *'he ain't much fer
church, bein' as he never cared fer settin' still much ; but he
says ifs only right he should do it when she asks. She don't
just say they sha'n't come to Sunday meetin' else they do,
but he says as how thaf s the only way they know they can
sorter pay her back fer all she does fer 'em — ^that an' bringin'
the other fellers. They seem to set a big store by that there
Sunday meetin'. My son's just went. Well, so-long. Guess
I turn oflE here."
The minister walked on more slowly toward the Qracen
house.
When he opened the gate, a burst of song greeted him clear
and strong from rich, deep, boy voices,
Love that wilt not let me go,
I rest my weary soul on Thee;
1 give Thee back the life I owe,
That in Thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be.
He paused half-way up the walk, and caught his breath.
There was something in the song that touched his soul — an
appeal, a wonder, and a prayer. How they could sing 1 Surely
no one could object to music like this on the Sabbath.
He looked cautiously up at the front windows, but saw
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854 THE OBSESSION OF
no sign of any heads or eyes looking out They were all
engaged in singing. He stepped shyly tip on the porch, and
for the first time it struck him that his presence there at that
hour might almost be regarded as an intrusion. His son
would be likely to r^ard it as such, he was sure, and perhaps
resent it.
This thought struck him as he placed his finger on the
electric bell, and caused him to half withdraw it even as he
heard the ringing of the bell in the distance. If he had
not rung already, perhaps he would have turned and gone
softly down the steps and out of the gate again without enter-
ing; but now he must at least wait until some one came, or
he might be caught stealing away from the door.
The second verse of the song rolled on more distinctly
now; for he was nearer, and he noticed that a window in the
front was part way open.
He forgot to think what he should say when he got inside,
for his mind was filled with the words of the song uttered
with so much feeling from these unaccustomed voices. It
made his heart thrill to think of such boys singing such words,
and his son among the rest. He wished Miss Bjrpath could
hear this singing. What could she have meant by her strange
account? But then, of course, she was too far away to dis-
tinguish what songs they were singing. He glanced down
the street at the old brick house, shabby and staid with its
stiff, box-bordered path and its two silver poplar-trees rustling
dismally in the clear winter air, and frowned at the thought
that he had been obliged to come on this most unpleasant
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VICTORIA GRACEN «55
Errand because of its owner's whim. He began to feel himself
in an awkward position.
Then the front door opened silently. Hiram stood with
question in his eyes^ and the minister felt still more out of
place.
'^ Is Miss Gracen in ? *' he asked, purely out of habit, for
he had not thought what he would do.
'^ She's in, sir, yes, sir,'' murmured Hiram almost in a
whisper, ''but she's havin' her boys. I could call her?" He
put the suggestion as though it were a precedent scarcely
to be thought of.
'' Don't call her, Hiram," said the minister, catching at the
chance ; '' I won't disturb her now. I'll come in another time.
It was just a little matter I wanted to speak to her about.
I'll stand here a minute, and hear them sing; and then I'U
go on ^"
''Step inside, sir," said Hiram with pride. "You can
sit in the dark of the alcove in the hall, sir, and never be seen.
That singer f ellow'll likely be having a solo in a minute or so.
I'll put a chair in the shadow, and you can set as long as
you like, and slip out when you get tired, without their ever
knowing you're here."
Hiram set the chair with absolute silence, and the minister
like a culprit in a crime slipped into it and kept silence,
listening to song after song that rang full and strong from the
chorus. They were grouped aroimd the piano, he could see
from his sheltered alcove; and his own son stood in their
midst, with an arm over Dick's shoulder on the right and
another over Harold's on the left. Then Wayne Forrest,
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«56 THE OBSESSION OF
standing close to the piano, sang alone; and the minister's
heart stood still for a moment with the wonderful thrill of the
voice in its plaintive appeal from the depths of a soul that had
suffered. Where had the boy gained the sympathetic tone
and clearness of expression that sent every word he sang home
to the heart of the hearer?
O Jesus, Thou art standing.
Outside the fast^closed door
In lowly patience waiting
To pass the threshold o'er.
There was that in the song that held the little ccmipany per-
fectly quiet as they sank into the chairs around the room,
and a hush settled over them. When the song was finished, to
the, minister's surprise, there followed a prayer.
*^Dear Father, be in our midst this afternoon,
and show us how to find Thee. Let the songs we
sing be acceptable praise, and open our hearts to
to hear whatever message Thy word shall bring us.
May we none of us be left out in the blessing Thou
hast for us. In Jesus* name we ask it. Amen.^'
It startled him to hear Miss Oracen's voice. She had
always b^ged to be excused from taking part in public meet-
ings, though he knew she sometimes led in prayer at the
women's missionary meetings; but here in her home, among
these strange boys, whom no one else seemed able to reach,
and whom no one cared to try to, she spoke to God as a man
speaketh to his friend, face to face. He glanced across the
hall and into the room where the light of the afternoon
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VICTORIA GRACEN 257
flooded the scene and showed the howed heads and closed
eyes. Not a boy was staring about. All was quiet and
reverent.
They sang again, lustily, and then there came the Bible
reading. Tom had never divulged the fact that the word of
God was a part of their afternoon reading. The minister
sat astonished, and listened while the leader read the story
of Elisha at Dothan with his frightened servant who reported
the surrounding of the city by the Syrian host, and of the
opening of his eyes to see the hosts of God with their chariots
and horses of fire in a multitude upon the mountain, ready
to deliver them. A few illuminating explanations were given
as she went on with the reading, but most of the explanation
and vividness of the story was due to the remarkable reading
it received. The reader then turned to the story of the blind
man healed, as told by John, and read it as though it had
been a drama, until the Pharisees, the neighbors, the father,
the mother, and the blind man lived and moved and spoke
before the audience. There was a tense stillness in the room
when the Pharisees had cast the man out and Jesus came and
found him.
Miss Gracen closed her book, and said just a few words
about three kinds of blindness in the chapter they had read —
a blind follower of (3od who couldn't see Gtod's help all about,
ready to sustain him; a blind soul who had never known the
light and could not understand what he was missing; blind
Pharisees who had every reason to see aright, yet chose to be
blind. There was no preaching about her words, but the
minister felt that each boy listening knew he was induded
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258 THE OBSESSION OF
fiomewhere in tiiat list of blind people who might leceiTe
sight.
It was a strange stady to watch those boys through the
wide-open doorway^ as they sat about the room absolutely
quiet, either watching their leader intently, or gazing off
thoughtfully through the window, or sitting with closed eyes.
The boy Wayne was exactly opposite the door, and his keen
eyes were fixed upon the reader as though he might miss a
word if he took them off; and all the sorrow, anguish and dis-
appointment of his life, with all the hopeless longing, seemed
to come and sit in his face unrebuked as he listened. It was
as if he had caught a glimpse of the light somewhere, and had
forgotten himself.
As the afternoon waned, the hall grew darker; and the
minister in his quiet comer dared watch the interesting group.
Harold silently arose to turn on the electric light, while
Dick touched a match to the fire laid in the fireplace; and
firelight and electridly made visible all the little audience
to the interested watcher in the hall.
There was a stir in the other room as Miss Qracen closed
her book and went to the piano. They were going to sing
again. But Tom Atterbury's voice broke in, and hushed
them to stillness.
'^Miss Gracen, you said the other day when you were
reading about Saul that everybody sometime in his life got a
vision of Christ, or a call to serve Him. Vi like to ask you
if you think they have to wait for that, and how do you think
it comes? Does everybody know it? Is it always something
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VICTORIA GRACEN 259
big and etartling like lightning, or is it sometimes just a
kind of conviction ? **
Something strange and queer gripped the minister by the
throat. He didn^t sense the answer that was given, except
to know afterwards that it had been all that it should have
been. He only felt the voice of his dear, mischievous, hard-to-
manage eldest son, whose life was entwined about his heart-
strings in a more than common love. His boy, his bad boy,
was asking a question like that, and asking it as if he really
cared about the answer ! Oh, had his boy heard any slightest
call, seen any glimpse whatever of the light that shines in the
face of Jesus Christ?
He did not know it; but he sat all during the hymn that
followed with tears streaming down his face, sat in the dark
alcove weeping and praying for his boy, and for these other
boys; and for this woman who was so quietly and wonderfully
ministering to them all.
After the song they all settled down in their chairs again,
and Miss Gracen read several chapters in Elizabeth Stuart
Phelps Ward's remarkable story, "A Singular life.*' It
appeared that they had all heard the beginning and were
deeply interested in the story, and it also appeared that the
reader had selected her chapters, and was sketching what
came in between with remarkable skill, omitting some parts
that might have been merdy worldly, or touching lightly upon
them, but gathering up the thread of the story in such a way
that the one central figure of the man, the " Christ-man/* of
the story, stood out before them.
It occurred to the minister that he ought to get away before
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260 VICTORIA GRACEN
he was disooyered; but this was no tiine to make his escape^
for the room was so quiet that any sound from the hall would
attract attention. He must wait until they sang again, and
were all standing around the piano with their backs to the
door. So he heard the story too, and saw the tray approaching
at last, with Hiram carrying it as though it were a sacrament;
although he did not know that the old servant had sat just
within the back-hall door with it open a crack, and enjoyed
the whole service as much as any of the boys.
He made his escape out into the clear winter dusk wiihi
the tears still wet upon his cheeks, and a song of thanks-
giving within his heart which rivalled the song, " It is well
with my soul," that rang out from the lighted parlor as the
meeting came to its close. A moment he lingered outside
the window, and, watching, saw his son among the rest;
saw him courteously handing a cup of something steaming
hot to his hostess and smiling adoringly down upon her in
her cushioned chair by the window. Then he turned and
hurried home to tell the boy's mother what he had seen and
heard.
And Lydia Bypath, watching, ferret-like at her front win-
dow, after her long afternoon's vigil, saw with mortification
that he was not coming in to report to her 1
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CHAPTEE XIX
The minister entered the pulpit that evening with a
glorified expression on his worn face that made him almost
look young again. He glanced down at the double row of boys
surrounding Miss Gracen and saw their faces in the light of
the afternoon's revelation. Heretofore he had looked upon
most of them as so many hindrances in the way of his son's
living a right life ; now he saw them as immortal souls awaken-
ing to the call of the Christ, and his heart was filled with a
great desire to say some word, leave some thought, which
would help them to make the great decision.
Wayne Forrest looked up, and caught his eye, with a
gleam of recognition; and the minister smiled slightly, with
just a suggestion of a nod. Lydia Bypath, stiff and sore,
sitting erect in her pew, saw it all, and fairly glared. If the
boys had seen her, they would have said, '^ She certainly has it
in for the minister.'' But fortunately the boys did not see
her. They sat quietly, reverently, joining in the h3rmns with
a vigor that made the dear, old senior elder turn and look at
them approvingly more than once; and the only disturbance
that arose in their company was the silent scufQe that went
on over every hymn, each boy trying to be the first to give
Miss Gracen the book with the place found. This explained
the few quick smiles and nudges and winks that Lydia
Bypath rolled as a sweet morsel under her tongue as she sat
by, looking on. Oh, she certainly ''had it in'' for that
minister 1
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26£ THE OBSESSION OP
The Bermon that evening was short and plain, with two or
three brief illustrations that had come to the minister during
his two hours' reflection in Victoria Gracen's hall alcove, —
striking stories in themselves and leading up to the great
thought of self-surrender. They caught and held the boys'
attention, and deepened the impression made by the afternoon
meeting. When service was over, the boys went down the
aisle more slowly than usual, and gathered affably about the
minister at the door, perhaps because Wajme stood talking
easily to him as if he had been an old friend. There was a new
look of friendliness about the minister that the boys were
quick to appreciate and expand under.
But behind them, grim, forbidding, with pursed lips and
snapping eyes, stood Lydia Bypath awaiting her turn; and
every word the minister spoke to every boy was an offence in
her eyes> because she knew he saw her standing there waiting^
and he ought to have sent them off instead of smiling at them
in that ridiculous way, " encouraging them in their conceit,''
she called it
But at last Miss Gracen and her escort moved out of the
church door; and Mrs. Atterbury, turning from her kindly
inquiry about the janitor's baby, saw Miss Bypath approaching
her husband, and knew they were in for another half -hour at
least
'^You have something to tell me, Mr. Atterbury," she
challenged, as the minister closed the outer door and turned
back to his study to get his coat and hat.
" Oh, why, good evening. Miss Bypath," said the minister
cordially, yet fencing for time. ^Let me see, you wanted
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VICTORIA GRACEN 268
to know about the boys* meetings, didnH you ? Yes, well, sup-
pose you come into the study, where it is a little warmer. It
makes this room cool oflf quite suddenly to have both those
doors wide open on such a sharp night, doesn't it? *'
The minister led the way up the aisle to the study back of
the pulpit, and motioned to his wife to come with him.
Miss Bypath followed perforce, remarking that some peo-
ple kept the door open imnecessarily long, it seemed, on
Sunday night. They might do their visiting and laughing
on another evening, to her way of thinking. It dispelled the
solemn influence of the service to allow a lot of gossip after
it was over. For her part
But the minister broke in upon her reflections with a
cordial ''Sit down. Miss Bypath. Here's Mrs. Atterbury.
She's interested, too. Pve just been telling her before service
what a wonderful time I have had this afternoon. I really
can't thank you enough for leading me to make this in-
vestigation."
For an instant Miss Bjrpath's firm jaw relaxed in pleased
surprise, and she straightened herself proudly, and flashed an
" I-told-you-so " gleam into her eyes; but the minister
hastened on quickly.
" I must tell you that you have been entirely mistaken re-
garding the gatherings held at Miss Oracen's. There is
nothing whatever objectionable about theni; and on the con-
trary, the work that Miss Gracen is so quietly doing is led, I
believe, by the Holy Spirit, and is being greatly blessed. I
am glad to be able to tell you that there is a most reverent
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264 THE OBSESSION OP
attitude among the boys and that some of them are really in
earnest in trying to live better lives/^
''Who told you this?'' burst forth Miss Bypath with
flashing eyes.
'' No one told me; I heard and saw for myself, and the
sight was one I shall never forget. I do not feel at liberty to
tell more about it. Miss Bypath, save to say that you, as a
member of this church, have reason to kneel and thank our
heavenly Father that He has put it into the heart of Victoria
Gracen to give her time and thought to work for these boys.
I believe our church and our town will be the better in the
years to come for what she is doing; and, if more people
could devote their time to cultivating the young human souls
all about them, the world would be a better place in which to
live. I think it would be well. Miss Bypath, for you to say
nothing further to any one about this matter.''
" Indeed," said Miss Bypath, rising with offended dignity,
*' I shall do my duty, whatever anybody else does. I suppose
that because your son goes there he has been able to pull the
wool over your eyes and make you think black is white; but,
Mr. Atterbury, there are people who know; and this is a
serious matter. I do not intend to be insulted by your son
or any other boy, and keep perfectly quiet. If you will not do
something about it, I will ; and as for Victoria Gracen, she is
making herself simply ridiculous^ and I da not feel that it is
my duty to shield her any longer. It is time such doings
were shown up. If your eyes are blinded, too, it is all the
more necessary that some one speaks."
TSien up spoke little, quiet Mrs. Atterbury.
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VICTORIA GRACEN 265
'* Miss Bypath, our son Thomas had no idea that he was
insulting you yesterday. He asked you to ride in genuine
earnest, because he says he wished to be polite to you and
give you as pleasant a time as the boys were giving to Miss
Gracoi/*
It is possible that even Tom himself would have opened his
wide brown eyes in surprise over his mild, credulous little
mother's faith in him; but there would have been a tender
gleam in them for her for taking his part, and there is this
to be said: Tom's mother always believed the very best of
him, and she honestly thought that what she Was saying
about her son was true. His father saw through many of his
pranks and pretences, but his mother never did. Perhaps
this was one reason why Tom had found it so exceedingly
easy to tread the downward path of mischief and madness^
because his mother believed in him, whatever he did, and
never saw any harm in him.
But Lydia Bypath was not one to allow any illusions to
remain if she could help it. She turned upon the small, meek
woman, like the little fighter that she was, and fairly spluttered
in her rage:
"Polite I Trying to be polite! Now, Mrs. Atterbury,
don't you know any better than that? " she screamed. " That
boy wouldn't be polite to anybody in the world, and he just
hates me because he knows that I won't stand his nonsense.
There's none so blind as those that will not see. As for you,
Mr. Atterbury," — she turned to the minister with a withe^ring
glance, — ^^ as for you, I'm compelled to believe that you are
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866 THE OBSESSION OP
as bad as Victoria Qracen yourself. I think you have become
obsessed.'*
Miss Bjrpath drew her small figure to its greatest height,
and sailed out of the minister's study. The minister turned
troubled eyes to his wife, who was quietly weeping into her
handkerchief.
''Never mind, dear,'* he said gently, putting his hand
tenderly on her shoulder. *' It really doesn't matter what she
says. Let us be glad over the change that is coming to our
boy. Come; we will go home, and I will tell you all about
that wonderf id meeting. Do you think I ought to confess to
Miss Gracen how I sat in her hall and looked and listened
this afternoon?'*
And so he comforted his' timid wife, and soon had her
smiling again.
Mrs. Atterbury went up-stairs to see whether the younger
children were tucked safely into bed; and the minister went
to his study window, and stood looking out on the moonlit
snow and thinking of the earnest boy faces he had seen that
afternoon. A great longing for his own boy filled his heart.
And just then he saw them come up the street, Tom,
Harold and Wayne, whistling in soft, clear harmonies the song
they had sung that afternoon for closing, ''It is well with
my soul.**
Tom turned in to his own home, and the other two went on,
calling, " Gk)od-night ** in joyous, care-free tones. Was it
imagination, or did the minister catch a note in their voices of
better intent than had sounded there at other times when he
had heard them thus?
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VICTORIA GRACEN 267
TcHn camd into the house still whistling softly, and, glanc-
ing into the study saw his father by the window.
'^ Hello dad ! ^* he called, and there was a ring of genuine
pleasure in his voice.
*' Hello, son,^' said the father, turning toward him quickly
and smiling.
*^ Say, dad, that was a real good spiel you had to-night.
The fellows liked it'*
'* Thank you, son,^* said the minister, almost choking with
sudden emotion, and throwing his arm across the boy's
shoulders lovingly.
The boy stood thus for a moment, half shyly, as if there
was something he would like to say, but could not. At last
he drew his father up to the window again, and they stood
together looking out. It touched the minister beyond any-
thing the boy had ever done before since he was a little fellow.
For of late Tom had rather avoided his father's company,
having always some escapade to hide or some delinquency to
cover. But to-night he seemed to like just to stand there
quietly with the man's arm around his shoulders.
*'Dad," said Tom almost inaudibly, ^'when's the next
communion?''
The father almost started with the joy and the hope in
his heart.
*' Six weeks from this morning," he answered, and tried
not to show his agitation. " Why ? "
^' Oh, I don't know," said the boy evasively, '* I was just
thinking." He paused, and the silence was deep between
them as they gazed out into the moonlight. Then the boy's
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268 THE OBSESSION OP
voice in slow^ hesitating drawl took up the sentence again.
" I was just thinking— 'Miss Gracen's been reading us a lot of
things—;! was just wondering— if maybe I wouldn't like to
join church sometime ^^
The father's arm tightened about his shoulders.
** Son, you know what it would mean? '^
** I think — I — do/' came the slow answer.
" You know it would mean making your life fit your pro-
fession."
** Yes, sir; thafs where the rub comes in. Fm not sure
I could do it."
" You'd not have to do it alone."
'* I know," said the boy seriously, and then after a patise,
" I know," and breathed it reverently.
** Oh, my dear son," said the father deeply, tenderly; and
then they stood a long time together silently. At last the
boy turned to go up-stairs.
''I don't know, dad," said the boy shyly; '^ I haven't got
it all doped out yet. But Fm thinking about it. I thought
Fd better teU you."
"My son, you know this has been my wish, my prayer,
for years, your mother's and mine."
" Yes, I know, dad. Good-night."
The boy caught his father's hand, and pressed it hard;
then, flinging it from him, hurried up the stair^ whistling
again and breaking softly into the words.
My sin — 0, the bliss of this glorious thouglit —
My sin, not in part, but the whole,
Is nailed to His cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my souL
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VICTORIA GRACEN 269
The fattier eoiQd hear him moving around in his room
above and singing the chorus^
It is well, it is well with my soul.
And this was the boy that Lydia Bypath thought was past
all redemption I
Yet, when Tom Atterbury first sang that song at Miss
Gracen's house, he used to sing it with a twinkle !n his eyes,
and come out loud and clear in the chorus with his deep rumble
of bass; and the words that he sang were these :
It is swell, it is stoeill with my soul.
The change in the chorus had come to express the change
in the whole attitude of the boy.
By and by it was very quiet up in Tom's room. His
father was still standing by the study window, looking out
on the white moonlit world. He was thinking about his son.
Then again he heard the stir and moving about up-stairs,
and the soft echo of that chorus.
It is well, it is well with my soul.
as the boy threw up his window and jumped noisily into bed.
A startling thought came to his father. Had the boy been
praying during that silence overhead? Something thrilled
through his soul like unto no joy that had ever come to Iijtw
yet in his ministry. His own son praying, trying in his
awkward, boyish way to *' dope'' out the matters of etemiiy,
and to adjust his own shy, fun-loving soul to God and the
great plan of salvation. Could it be ?
The father stole softly up-stairs, and listened a moment
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270 THE OBSESSION OF
by his son's door. Then, as he heard no sound, he softly
opened the door and slipped in, tip-toeing over to the bed.
The boy was asleep already, his happy, healthy body yielding
quickly to the pillow and the darkness. And there in the
quiet room, with the moonlight in a long pathway across the
carpet at his feet, the minister knelt beside his eldest-bom,
with his hand upon the bo/s head, and prayed as he had never
prayed before for his son.
It was just a little more than tiiree weeks from that time
that Lydia Bypath broke her 1^.
** Gee ! WasnH it lucky she didn't break it the day she did
that sprinting stunt down in the meadow? *' exclaimed Harold
Constable when he heard of it. ''We'd have been in wrong
forever after, sure, if that had happened. Gee! I'm glad
she waited three weeks. She'd have tried to blame us with it
if it had happened the same week."
*'I should worry," answered the others in chorus with
that peculiar shrug that expresses so forcibly the self-centred
life.
Only Wayne Forrest had stood still, frowning, and said
nothing. For it all happened in this way.
Tdm Atterbury on his way to attend the Friday-evening
frolic at Miss Gracen's was called back by his mother to take
a bimdle of clothing for the missionary box which was being
packed by Miss Bjrpath, who was in charge of the box work
in the missionary society. The bimdle contained a dozen
pairs of new stockings for the missionary and his wife, sent
by an absent church-member to the minister's wife to put
into the box. Mrs. Atterbury was anxious to have it get to
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VICTORIA GRACEN «71
Miss Bypath that night before the box was nailed up, and
80 called Tom back, and gave him directions.
When Tom again reached the snowy street, he heard a
peculiar whistle that caused him to halt and wait until a
dark figure in the distance caught up with him. It was
Wayne Forrest.
*' Say, At, did you remember to call up Brownie and give
him Miss Gracen's message about that lantern she wants to
borrow for the pictures to-morrow night?** he asked as he
came up.
'' Great Scott 1 No, I didn V said Tom. '' Say, Porrie,
you just run back and phone from the drug-store for me,
won*t you? Fve got to go an errand for mother before I can
go to Miss Vic*s.**
''Not on your tintype. At,** said the other boy darkly.
'* I*m in wrong with Brownie; it wouldn't do a bit of good
for me to ask him. Better go yourself. What*s your errand ?
Can*tldothatforybu?**
''Why, yes, I guess you can,** said Tom, thrusting the
bundle into his hands. " Just take this to Miss Bypath*s, and
tell her it*s from old Mrs. Corson for the missionary box.
She*ll understand.**
Wayne looked down at the bundle in dismay.
" Good-night ! At, I can*t go there! " he exclaimed.
"Oh, yes, you can,** shouted Tom, who was already off
toward " Brownie*s.** "You needn*t go in; just hand her
the package, and tell her it*s for the missionary box. She
Won*t know you from a bunch of beets.**
By this time Tom was almost a block away and making
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«7« VICTORIA GRACEN
good time toward his errand, for they both desired to be at
Miss Gracen's early.
Wayne turned, frowning in the darkness. He had half a
notion to put the bundle on the parsonage porch and tell
Tom he could do his own errand, but a sense of honor made
him finally turn and reluctantly walk toward Miss Bypath's
house. After all, distasteful as it was for him to go near her
again, he could probably get the errand over with a single
sentence and hurry away before she had had time to recognize
him.
He marched up to the front door, sent the bell pealing
viciously through the house, and waited impatiently for the
door to be opened. He even wondered whether it would do to
leave the bundle on the steps and retreat, but decided that
wouldn't be quite the square thing. She might think it was
a joke or a personal donation, and make all kinds of trouble
for Tom's mother or the missionary box, though why he should
care he didn't know.
But no one came to the door, and he rang again. Stil]
no answer when even a third ring clanged through the empty
halL He stepped back and down the path to survey the
dwelling. Surely he had seen a light. Ah I yes, there it was
at the back. She was out in the kitchen, likely; but why
hadn't she heard the bell? She didn't seem to be deaf the
last time he saw her. He had never heard that she was.
"Wlell, he wouldn't have done his duty, and he couldn't get
rid of that package, until he tried everything; so he took his
way around to the back door.
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CHAPTBEXX
Ten minutes before, Lydia Bypath had stepped out of
her back door wrathf ully to search for the broom. She had
given it to the plumber to brush the snow from his feet, when
he came to fix a leak in the water pipes, and of course he had
not put it back in its place. The broom was just outside
the door, leaning against the wall in the darkness ; and the
light that streamed across the back porch wickedly left the
broom in the deepest shadow at one side.
Miss Bypath stepped out on the brick pavement to see
whether he had thrown the broom down in the snow, and
her foot slipped on an icy brick. She put out her hand to
catch hold of the porch pillar, but missed it and fell, her
feet twisted under her, and her head striking the edge of the
porch. It was a most humiliating position, as well as un-
comfortable, and her wrath at the plumber and the lost
broom increased. Both bare hands were reaching vainly for
something to catch hold of; and she felt a strange, sickening
pain in her leg just above the knee. The wind was sharply
cold, too; and she had come out now without even her
little shoulder-shawl, a carelessness of which she was seldom
guilty.
She tried to rise quickly, but that strange, sick pain
caught her, and held her fast when she even attempted to
move; and once the sickness overcame her, and the starry
sky overhead seemed to darken and lift far away into eter-
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274 THE OBSESSION OF
nity. Something was the matter with her leg. What could
it be? That was ridiculous. She must get into the house.
She made another frantic attempt to rise^ and succeeded in
getting to a sitting posture only to fall back with a groan^
this time her head and shoulders in the snow.
It was the cold that finally brought her out of her f aint-
ness, and that made her call aloud for help, little realizing
how short a distance her little thin, inadequate voice would
carry.
When she had called until she was weak, and the cold had
seemed to chill her through and through, she lay and wondered
how long she would stay there before some one found her and
helped her in.
What coidd be the matter with her leg, anyway? Was
it broken? Horrible thought. Perhaps she would lie there
aU night, and freeze to death; pr, if not that, at least she
would suffer terribly, and perhaps lose a chance of having the
fracture set, if it was a fracture.
Thus in sad plight she lay and began to think the day of
judgment had arrived for her at last, when suddenly she heard
steps in the distance crunching cheerfully down the street,
and a clear, sweet whistle. Bag-time, and she hated it!
It was some wicked boy, of course. How terrible if they should
see her here aad gather around to point the finger of scorn !
Her brain was already hazy with pain and anxiety, and in
imagination she could see a set of village boys dancing about
her and loudly rejoicing over her downfall. It seemed to her
upset mind that she must keep very still until this boy
had passed.
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VICTORIA GRACEN 275
But the steps came nearer, and she heard her own door-
bell. Instinctively she roused herself to one more effort to
get up and answer her bell. It seemed that her house was un-
defended against an enemy; but she could not rise, and only
a low moan escaped her white lips.
It was thus that Wayne came upon her in the broad belt of
light that streamed from the kitchen door and lay across the
fallen victim in the snowy path. With an exclamation of
surprise he stopped and looked down upon her. Lydia By-
path, h^ old nature still vivid within her, opened her eyes
and saw the boy upon whom she had uttered an anathema a
short few days before.
"What business have you here in my back yard?'^ she
snapped, and then closed her eyes because of the pain a sudden
movement had brought.
Wayne^s face darkened, and he would have turned away
but that he saw by her attitude and expression she was in
pain.
"IVe brought a package from the parsonage for the
missionary box,^* he said ; " but I wonH trouble you if you feel
that way about it.'*
Then, as he turned, something of Miss Gracen's recent talk
about the good Samaritan flashed into his mind, and he swung
back again.
" Is there anything I can do for you? Shall I help you
up ? '* he asked.
"Well, you can help me up, I suppose,'* she said un-
graciously. " I seem to have twisted my 1^.**
Like a flash it went through his mind that here was a good
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276 THE OBSESSION OP
opportunity for revenge, but with the thought came flocking
the word-pictures Miss Gracen had made the Sabbath before
of the soul in llhe sight of God when harboring hate. A wist-
ful tenderness that hovered around her mouth and eyes as
she had talked about loving people^ even loving enemies,
seemed to appeal to him now and his hatred melted within
him.
He stooped, gathered her in his strong, young arms, and
tried to lift her upon her feet; but a ciy burst from her
white lips, and she fell back unconscious. Then more swiftly
he gathered her up again, and carried her into the house;
through the kitchen, on into her sitting-room, where he laid
her down upon the couch, and stood back, wondering what!
to do next.
His mother's long invalidism had made him gentle and
helpful. He stooped over her and arranged under her head a
hard little pillow embroidered with stiff lilies. He went out
to the kitchen, brought some water, and bathed her head
and face with a towel that he had found hanging by the
sink.
Presently he saw a quiver in her face, and her eyes
opened; but she began at once to groan with the pain, and
he thought by her ashen look that she would faint again. He
saw she was in no condition to be questioned, and he looked
about frantically for a telephone, but, discovering none, con-
cluded perhaps she couldn't afford one. Then he made a
dart out of the back door and around the house to the front.
Putting his fingers to his lips, he sent a long, shrilly double
whistle into the crisp night air, waited a moment, and re-
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VICTORIA GRACEN 277
peated it; then faintly from the distance came an answering
echo.
Tom had heard. He whistled a bird-call signal that only
the favored few of the boys imderstood, and received an inmie-
diate answer; sent a '* Hurry up ^* after it; and this time the
answer was near at hand, and he could hear Tom*s flying
footsteps.
'^ Get a doctor, AV' he called as soon as he felt his words
could be heard. ''And go get your mother or somebody
quick ! Miss Bypath^s fallen down and got badly hurt Beat
itl I'll stay here till you come back. I think you'd better
get the doctor first.*'
Tom turned without a word. These boys were accustomed
to obeying orders from each other when given in that tone
of voice, and asking questions afterward; it was a part of
their code, a bit of the loyalty to one another that kept them
all such fast friends.
Tom simply flew to the doctor's office, and caught him
just before his office-hours were over. But it was not his
mother he went after, for she was almost sick in bed with
grippe; but he hurried down the street to tell Miss Gracen.
She would know just what ought to be done.
Ten minutes later Miss Gracen entered Lydia Bypath's
fiitting-room in time to see Wayne bending over his patient
and trying to adjust the pillow and cover her with a thick,
plaid shawl according to her querulous directions, given in a
strained, shrill tone between groans.
A second later the doctor came in and set them all to
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278 THE OBSESSION OF
work at once; but it was that first glimpse of Wayne^ with his
face all gentle and pitying^ trying to do his awkward best at
nursing the cross^ suffering creature who cried out upon him
at every move he made, that filled Miss Oracen's heart with
a great joy.
She had seen the dark look on his face when this same
woman had turned upon him and had sent to his soul those
deadly words about his father, and she knew from some hesitat-
ing questions he had asked that forgiving was not an easy
thing for this boy. She had half suspected that this was one
thing that held him away from God. Yet here he was, gentle
as if the cross old woman upon the couch had been dear
to him.
Tom, with Dick and Harold, who had been at the Gracen
home when the summons came for Miss Gracen, entered
the house a second later, and, standing in the open kitchen
door, looked on with a kind of admiring dismay at their
comrade.
'* Gee I '' said Tom, looking at Harold.
" Gjood-night 1 '' responded Harold imder his breath.
** Some situation for Porrie,*' appreciated Dick, turning
away to hide the emotion that suddenly threatened to show it-
self in his eyes.
Then they proceeded quietly and swiftly to obey the orders
given by the doctor.
A broken leg was the verdict of the doctor, and the patient
must be got to bed at once.
Tom was sent for a nurse; Harold, to the doctor^s oflSce
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VICTORIA GRACEN 279
for a certain roll of bandages which had been forgotten in
the hurry; and Dick and Wayne were ordered to prepare the
way to carry the patient to her bed in the adjoining room.
But just the second before they left on their various errands,
while they stood in a huddled group by the kitchen door
attentive to the doctor's directions, Lydia Bypath opened her
ferret eyes, and for the first time in her pain seemed to recog-
nize her enemies.
^^ What on earth are those wicked boys doing out there in
my nice, clean kitchen ? Won't somebody put them out ? The
idea of their taking advantage of my helplessness in this way !
You see, Victoria Gracen, just what they are " and her
weak voice trailed off into silence, for she had fainted
again.
"The poor stew!'' said Harold as he started out with
Tom. " Hasn't she any sense at all ? If Forrie hadn't f oimd
her out there in the snow, very probably she'd have been lying
there yet."
"She doesn't deserve anything," answered Tom indig-
nantly; "but we've got to do it for Miss Vic's sake." He
paused, and a sudden thought came to them both. They each
knew that Miss Gracen would say, " Do it for Christ's sake; "
and in the silence the two boys looked up to the stars shyly,
without a word, while each in his heart offered his service in a
queer, half -questioning, boy way; and wondered whether, with
all the childhood years of boyish dislike back of it, it woidd be
accepted or not; each wistfidly hoping it would, but neither
daring to tell the other. Perhaps each understood how it was
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280 THE OBSESSION OF
with his fellow, and respected the silence. It was a part of
their code again.
The evening was over at last. They got poor Lydia By-
path into her bed, and quiet under an opiate while the bone
was set; they established a good nurse by her side and a
strong woman in the kitchen to look after the house; and then,
after having worn themselves out to make her as comfortable
as they could, they all went home.
**It^s too late now for our programme," said Harold
wistfully.
" But you'll all come in and have the refreshments,'' said
Miss Gracen smiling. ^^ You've worked hard, and deserve a
bite to eat; and the things are all ready. Bebecca will be dis-
appointed if they are not eaten. Then you can have one song
before you go home."
"Sure! We're in for the eats every time," responded
Tom heartily; and into the house they all trooped, Wayne
as usual, lingering gallantly to help Miss Gracen up the
steps.
" My dear boy," she said in a low tone, her hand on his
arm as they stopped a second by the door, ^^ I want to tell
you how deeply touched I am by all that you have done
to-night."
*^ It was nothing," said Wayne embarrassedly.
*^ Yes, it was something. It was a great deal," breathed
Miss Gracen softly. " Do you think I don't know how you
feel toward that woman ? Do you think that I didn't hear what
she said to you the other day when she fell in the snow. and
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VICTORIA GRACEN 281
you went to pick her up, — ^my dear, great-hearted, splendid
boy?^'
The rich waves of red rolled over Wayne^s fine face, and a
flood of gladness came into his handsome eyes. There was a
mingling of rage and love in his face ; rage toward the woman
who had spoken those awful words about his father; love for
this woman who could appreciate how he had felt.
^* I did it for your sake,^^ he said, looking his gratitude into
her eyes in one quick flash, and then dropping his gaze to the
floor.
Her eyes flashed back their love and appreciation, and she
took his hand in a warm, quick grasp.
" Thank you, my dear boy,'' she said earnestly, ^^ and —
you did it for Christ's sake, too, didn't you? Am I right,
Wayne?"
He returned her hand-clasp, and, looking down upon her
tenderly, said, in tones that were half ashamed for their
admission :
"Mebbe," and, smiling, turned away. It was a great
deal for him to admit, but she knew it meant far more than he
had said.
She went smiling and happy in to meet the rest of the
boys, who had awaited her return in the big parlor, which
had gradually changed its stately aspect and become their
regular meeting-place.
The frail furniture of delicate workmanship had retired
to a small reception-room on the other side of the hall; and
had been replaced by plenty of big, easy chairs of heavier build
and -comfortable aspect, and a big table of dimensions suit-
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282 THE OBSESSION OP
able for evenings of study or almost any kind of a game. The
piano and the rich Oriental rugs alone remained^ and seemed
to blend and harmonize entirely with the ne^ surroimdings.
There, were still some fine old paintings on the walls, but even
some of those had been replaced with modem pictures, etch-
ings and photogravures of notable men and places about
which the boys had been studying.
The whole aspect of the room had changed so entirely that
Mrs. Elihu Brown, calling one afternoon to adjure Miss
Gracen concerning some club duty, and letting herself by
habit into the big room on the right instead of the small
room on the left, where Hiram was timidly endeavoring to
escort her, paused in utter dismay on the threshold. She put
up her lorgnette, surveying the place as though it had been
the ruin of some treasure-city lying waste and desolate, then
turned and fled to the shelter of the confines of refinement
within the smaller room that Hiram, with his silver card-
receiver, was indicating. Here, poised upon the edge of a
Chippendale chair, she identified one by one the Gracen
aritcles of vertu, recalled others missing, which had been
relegated to the attic on account of lack of room, and mar-
velled at the extremity of Miss Gracen's obsession. To give
up her drawing-room! That seemed to a club woman the
height of all possible fanaticism. To give up her great,
beautiful drawing-room to a pack of ill-mannered boys!
Where now could she hold receptions? No place for bridge-
whist parties ! What a calamity !
^' And you don't mean to tell me that you really serve
refreshments to those young boors in your exquisite priceless
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VICTORIA GRACEN 283
china ? " asked the caller a few minutes later^ when in response
to her voluble questions Miss Qracen took her eagerly about
the reconstructed parlor, and showed her all the devices for
giving a good time to the boys, pointing to the little tea-
table with its delicate cups and silver fittings as ready as when
the room had been for her lady friends. '^ And you let them
use your silver spoons I Do you think it^s quite right to put
temptation in their way like that? They tell me one of the
boys who comes here has a father in jail for stealing. Did
you know it?^^
^^ Wayne Forrest is my dear and trusted friend,** responded
the hostess with quiet dignity. "There is no more con-
scientious boy in town, and he would protect me and all that
belongs to me with his life.**
" H*m ! ** The caller turned her lorgnette upon her hostess
curiously with the air that in a boy would have meant, " Well,
you have got it bad ; ** but she only replied :
" Well, you always were good. I hope you won't be dis-
appointed in your paragons, but I must say it's more than I
would do. I can*t see, myself, why ironstone china wouldn*t
do for them to eat from. It*s likely all the most of them have
at home, and boys coidd hardly appreciate Dresden china and
antique silver.**
Then she turned back to the more congenial atmosphere
of the small reception-room and her club business.
Miss Qracen thought of it now as she stood in the doorway
and watched her boys handle the delicate cups and plates and
deftly pass the spoons. They knew her silver spoons now
almost as well as she did herself, and often helped pick them
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284 THE OBSESSION OF
up and count them at the close of an evening, when all hands
pitched in and helped to save the servants from extra work.
She smiled to remember that not a single cnp or fragile plate
had been broken yet in all the handling back and forth that
had been done that winter; and she believed in her heart that
her boys did know the difference between them and the iron-
stone china, and that her dishes were a part of the refining
influence that they needed in their lives.
Not that these things were, of course, essentials. If she
had had nothing but iron-stone china in which to serve her
simple refreshments, she would not have been greatly troubled
about it; but, as she had these, why should they not be conse-
crated, and set to work their charm of beauty, and give the
uplift that all rare and lovely things can give ?
Now and then she had given a word, a hint, a story, that
helped them to be interested in rare things. Did they know
how cloisonn6 was made ? Naturally they studied it with new
wonder and interest as she showed them the delicate metal
tracery, and spoke of the wonderful effects achieved by the
patient workmanship and rare colorings. Those two cups were
two hundred years old ! They looked at them with awe, and
handled them with infinite pains, speaking of their cups out
of which they drank as individuals. They grew to respect
the fine, old, costly cups even more than the modern hand-
painted ones, beautiful as they might be; and so the spoons,
some of them, came to have stories connected with them, for
Miss Gracen had told about her funny experiences at the
Chicago Fair and her ride in the first Ferris wheel, as she
showed the tiny spoon, half gold and half silver, with Columbus
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VICTORIA GRACEN 285
on the handle and the city of Chicago on the bowl. They
knew the story of the spoons that came from Paris, and were
fond of holding up the little gold ones to look through the
Bussian enamel set in the filigreed handles.
In fact, each beautiful adornment or elegant furnishing of
her house had come to mean to these boys a part of their educa-
tion; for she had told them wonderful stories of other lands^
and hung them for memory on the pegs of pictures, vases
and books.
It was when the changes were being made in parlor and
reception-room that they learned to tell Chippendale furni-
ture, and Sheraton, and began to take an interest in Oriental
rugs, to hear how many hand-tied knots each had to the
square inch, and to know that there was a lore connected with
them, and an infinite variety of story and patient wonder in
their weaving as well as in their strange, fantastic names.
And it was so, without any word being said about carefulness
or manners, that they grew to have respect for things in her
house, while incidentally adding to their own stores of knowl-
edge.
She stood looking at her boys as they ate, joked and
laughed. Especially did her eyes linger on her own boy and
Wajme; for of late they had been growing into close friend-
ship, and she found herself glad. Wayne was developing in
many ways, and not the least of all signs of his fine character
was the way he had waited on the crabbed woman whom he
had just cause to dislike. If he could forgive like that, she
felt he was near to the Kingdom ; for she knew by this time his
hot, fiery temper and his keen sensitiveness.
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286 THE OBSESSION OF
I
Before they hrcke up for the night Miss Gracen stepped
into their midst^ and^ raising her hands for silence^ spoke to
tiiem in a tender^ gracious tone.
*' I*m as sorry as I can be, boys, that your eyening was
spoiled; but do you know Fm glad in a way, too, because
it has given me a glimpse of the true kindliness and gentle-
manliness you have in hiding in your hearts. I want to thank
you for the way you have taken your disappointment, and for
the beautiful way in which some of you have helped to-night,
and fihown real love in spite of your dislikes; and'^ — she
paused and looked around on the group hesitatingly; then her
face broke into one of its beautiful young smiles that they
loved — ^^ it is my Dick^s birthday next Friday, — I wonder how
you would like to go as my guests to the city, take dinner there,
and attend the Symphony concert? There's a wonderful
singer, John McCormack, as the soloist, and I thought you
would like to hear him/'
There was dead silence for a second, and then there arose
a shout of joy from the group, which gathered strength and
threatened to raise the roof before it was finished.
It is true that more than half the boys had only a vague
idea what a ** Symphony '* concert might be and would have
been far more attracted by a lively vaudeville or a good,
stirring ^* movie,'* but whatever Miss Gracen wanted was the
thing, and a jolly time together on the train, with dinner at
some swell hotel, was good enough for anybody. They could
stand a little dry music in between, if that was her whim.
They never suspected that she had been studying the prospectus
of the winter's amusements ahead for weeks with a view to
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VICTORIA GRACEN 287
selecting just the evening's programme that would elevate and
awaken the latent tastes in their various natures. She thought
she had detected a love of music in some; and while it was
crude and largely confined to the better " rags/^ still, it was
stirring; and she wanted to see the effect of a great orchestra
on them. Even the most stupid of them would like the
novelty of watching the different instruments played, and this
might be the opening wedge for something more another time.
She felt sure they would all enjoy the sweet singer whose Irish
melodies would touch and hold them from the first note; and
so she smiled in anticipation of her little experiment^ while
they cheered and rejoiced, and made the night ^ir ring as they
hurried down the snowy path.
But just as they reached the gate Tom and Harold and
Wayne turned back to the door, which still stood wide open,
where Dick and his aunt stood watching their departing
guests.
It was Wayne who spoke, evidently voicing the sentiments
of the three.
*'Miss Gracen, we thought maybe there was something
else we could do over there, to-morrow or sometime. Won^t
Miss Bypath need things? Walks shovelled if it snows — ^it's
beginning a little now — ^furnace tended to, and errands? I
could look after the furnace evenings when I come from the
train, before I go home to supper. The other fellows coidd
see to it mornings.^'
*' Yes,^' said Harold, eagerly drawing his fur-lined gloves
over his white hands not worn with work, *' ni do the furnace
mornings, and empty the ashes. I donH have to go to school.
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288 VICTORIA GRACEN
Then Tom can look after the walks after school, and ran any
errands ^
The tears sprang unbidden to Miss Gracen's eyes, and she
put out her hands in an involuntary gesture of blessing.
" Oh, you dear boys I '' she said. " You dear, dear boys !
That will be beautiful ! Do you know, I think you are all
trying to please Him ? ^*
They laughed a soft, conscious laugh, and called, '* (Jood-
night *^ as they sped down the path ; and Miss Gracen turned
to see the tender look of her own eyes reflected in Dick's.
" They're great, aren't they, Aunt Vic ? " he said, and then
after a second: "What could I do. Aunt Vic? She's an
awful boob, but I want to do something, too."
Miss Gracen closed the door quickly, and, turning, folded
her own boy in her arms, much to his delighted embarrass-
ment.
" Oh, Dick, dear. You too I Oh, I am so happy I You
are all so dear ! "
" Well, you see. Aunt Vic," said Dick, struggling hard to
explain in a matter-of-fact tone, ** we had to be because you
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CHAPTER XXI
Thb winter days had lengthened into spring promise
and still Miss Bypath lay and suffered — and made others
suffer. Her system was in bad condition^ and the bone knit
yery slowly, making it necessary for the east to remain on
a long time; but the rest and the forced cessation from
both privation and hard work to keep up appearances were
doing her good in many other ways. Her mind was more
vigorous than ever, and she led the trained nurse a life of
it, ordering her about from early morning till late at night,
being determined, as she told her friends, to '' get the worth
of her money out of her,** although the truth of the matter
was that it was not Lydia Bypath's money that paid her —
for she had no money — ^but Victoria Gracen's.
Faithfully all the long days had the boys taken turns in
tending the furnace, emptying ashes, shovelling snow, and
running errands, until they too had b^xm to seem to the bed-
ridden woman like a part of her establishment^ and it was
nothing more than her due that they should attend to matters
thoroughly.
The nurse, poor, lon^-suffering woman, was an imported
affair from the city hospital, and knew nothing about the free
gift of their service by these boys. She supposed they were
paid for their work; and therefore, when Lydia Bypath sent
her down with a message to them she made it fuUy as dis-
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290 THE OBSESSION OF
agreeable as it had been origmally^ and even added a word
or a tone now and then for the scornful silence in which her
directions were always received. She had to bear such words
continually from her patient, and it seemed no more than
right that she should pass them on to others. Who so
thick-skinned, and withal so needing them, of course, as
boys? She believed that boys in general were all wrong,
and that they needed constant discipline; so she gave it
in full measure, as it had been measured out to her.
*' Miss Bypath wishes you to be more careful about letting
the ashes come up through the house in that wild fashion,^'
she announced to Harold Constable, standing crisp and
starched in her white garments on the cellar stairs, and letting
her imperious eyes run over him disapprovingly, as with his
brand-new blue overalls and his curly hair powdered with
ashes he essayed to clean out the furnace for the first time.
He looked up, his eyes danciig with f im, and, touching his
plaid cap politely, said : .
'* Yes, ma'am, I thank you,'* and went cheerfully on with
his work*
"He's impudent, and good-for-nothing, I think," she
told Miss Bypath up-stairs, and knew not that she had been
ordering about the son of the richest man in Eoslyn.
Harold sinned in other ways besides sending a cloud of
ashes up the registers every time he manipulated the furnace;
he would whistle and sing. His high tenor floated up to the
sick-room in distinct words something like these:
I never-heard-of-anybody-dying
From kissing, did-you?
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VICTORIA GRACEN 291
for Harold continued to love rag-time for some occasions,
despite the fact that he enjoyed Miss Gracen's rendering of a
Chopin Nocturne with as keen a delight as a musician might.
Besides^ rag-time just fitted emptying ashes. It suited its
rhythm to the motion of the shovel excellently. So he sang.
Another choice selection which came distinctly to the bed-
ridden woman was :
Do-you-take-this-woman for-your-lawful-wife ?
I do. I do.
** Indecent and irreverent songs ! '^ Miss Bypath declared,
and sent her white starched nurse flying down the cellar stairs
with the admonition that he should be discharged at once if
he didnH stop, whereat Harold sat himself down on the potato-
bin and laughed loud and long till the echo reached
up through the pipes of the register to the indignant old
lady's ears.
"All right,'' he declared merrily; "you may discharge
me if you like, but I'm afraid you won't be able to find an-
other as good."
However, he tried to remember not to sing when he was
in the house, and succeeded in forgetting only a few times.
Nevertheless, in one way or another. Miss Bypath kept her
hand and her tongue on matters below stairs, and made it
lively indeed for the people who were trying their best to do
for her.
At last, one Saturday morning in March, — ^the birds were
out in' excited groups hunting flats for the summer, and there
was d smell of spring in the air, — ^a load of wood arrived. Miss
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292 THE OBSESSION OF
Gracen had sent it to be used in the fireplace. It would do to
suppl^nent the furnace heat morning and eyening^ when they
wanted to keep the furnace low on account of the mildness of
the middle of the day; and it would make a cheerful blaze for
Miss B}rpath to look at, now that she was able to sit up a little
while each day. Miss Oracen sent word that some one would
come that afternoon to saw and split it^ and pile it ready for
use.
When the wood came^ it was dumped in the wrong
place, of course; but it was done, and the man drove oflf whist-
ling merrily, leaving Miss Bypath raging angrily at her
nurse about the inadequacy of all mankind ever to do the
right thing.
Immediately after limch the boys arrived, and the sawing
and splitting began. Lulled by the dreary monotony of
the sawing under her window. Miss Bypath fell asleep for
a few moments, but awoke to sudden alert action at the
soimd of sticks of wood being laid with a ringing clang one
on the top of another, their ends thumping gayly against
the side of the old house.
She called fretfully to her nurse, and declared that the
wood must all be carried aroimd to the other side of the
house immediately and piled over again, so as to be nearer
to the back stairs, so they wouldn't have to track through
her nice, clean kitchen every time they wanted a stick, and
wear out her kitchen oilcloth.
The nurse descended, gave her command, and there
ensued an altercation. The boys were in a hurry, and were
due at a basketball game at three o'clock. It would take too
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VICTORIA GRACEN 293
long to carry the wood around the house and pile it over again.
The nurse went up-stairs with the report, only to return with
more forcible commands. The boys were standing directly
imder Miss Bypath^s window, and every word that was said
could be distinctly heard by her. Miss Bjrpath listened like
a bird in ambush as the nurse delivered her ultimatum, turned
with her rattley skirts clattering aroimd her, and shut the
door. She desired no further impudent words from those
boys.
The boys stood in silent disgust, facing one another for a
full minute, Wayne with his old frown growing upon his
brows.
'' Isn't she the limit? '' drawled Tom.
^' She's an old boob, that's what she is," said Harold
fiercely. " I'm about sick of this."
Th^n Wayne, with a sudden lighting of his eyes and a
comical lifting of his eyebrows :
*^ The poor stew doesn't know we're not paid for itj per-
haps. Anyhow, whaf s the difference? We're not doing it for
her. We're doing it for Miss Gracen and for — something
else," he added softly. " Come on, here goes, boys. It won't
take much longer if we hurry."
*^ Yes," drawled Tom as he rose with his arms full of wood.
" You know Miss Gracen said last Sunday we'd got to love one
another, or nothing else we do would go down. I s'pose we've
got to love this guy, even if we don't like her. Gee ! if she was
like Miss Vic, we could love her all right, but Bydia Pylath is
another kind of a proposition. Well, here goes ; only I kind of
wish Miss Vic could know what we're up against. It might
coimt for more."
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294 THE OBSESSION OF
'' It strikes me she generally knows, even if nobody tells
her/' declared Wayne as he picked up a great pile of wood and
strode off around the back of liie house.
They worked silently and swiftly, and in a short time had
their work done, and departed, whistling cheerily down the
street, light-hearted because they had conquered.
But somehow Lydia Bypath did not feel quite comfortar
ble in her mind, and when an hour later Miss Gracen came
in to bring her a new book, and see how she was feeling,
she burst out with :
'* Victoria Gracen, who were those workmen you sent here
to saw that wood ? Were they any of those ridiculous, bad boys
of yours ?'*
Miss Oracen's cheeks grew rosy, but she looked at the poor,
little, sharp creature on the bed steadily.
** Yes, they are some of my boys,'' she said gently; ** they
offered to do it for you."
" They offered to do it for me! " said the invalid sharply.
^'That's a very likely story. How much do you pay them
for doing it?'*
^' Oh, I don't pay them anything. They offered to do any-
thing they could for you while you were laid up. They sug-
gested it themselves. Harold Constable has been attending
to your furnace mornings and Wayne Forrest evenings. Tom
Atterbury did the walks and the errands, and sawed wood.
They were all here this aftem^n piling the wood, I think.
They have been very thoughtful about you, asking me almost
every day if I knew of anything else you needed."
'* Harold Constable attending to my furnace I That stuck-
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VICTORIA GRACEN 295
up^ stylish, Constable woman^s son emptying my ashes!
Victoria Gracen, I never knew you to tell lies; but really I
can^t believe thaf
"Ifs quite true/^ said Miss Gracen gently. She wasn't
sure how the irascible little creature would take the news;
for there was fire of some kind in her voice, and two bright
red spots had come out on her cheeks; but, when she came
back from lowering the window-shade to shut out a sunbeam
that was dancing daringly on Miss Bypath's counterpane, she
saw that there were tears slowly running down the sharp
little face.
"Why, whafs the matter, Lydia, dear?*' she asked
tenderly.
But Lydia Bypath was weeping excitedly into her hand-
kerchief.
" They called me a booby,*' she sobbed; ''right under my
own window they called me a booby I I used to go to par-
ties in my yoimg days, and I always got the booby prize in
any game I ever played. Oh, I know very well what they
meant. And they called be something else, too. They called
me a poor s-s-st-eie;/ ''
The words came out with a jerk and the poor, upset suf-
fering woman turned her wrinkled face to the pillow, and
sobbed aloud.
Victoria Gracen, as she leaned over to try and comfort her,
coidd not refrain from a smile and a merry glinting of her
eyes, as she instantly knew just how those boyish young
voices of disgust had soimded; but she struggled to control
her own voice.
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296 THE OBSESSION OF
" They didn't mean anything wrong by it, Lydia; indeed,
they didn't. They are dear boys. They didn't like the way
the nurse spoke to them; that was all.''
*^0h, I'm not blaming them," blurted out Lydia. ''I
s'pose I deserved it. I sent a lot of disagreeable messages
down to them. I never knew that they were doing it for
nothing."
*^Well, never mind," said Victoria, smoothing out the
crumpled pillow. ** I'll tell them you didn't know they were
doing it for you."
**They weren't," snapped Lydia in much her accustomed
way. "They were doing it for you! They said so. They
said it didn't matter what I said, so they pleased you. They
called me an old guy, too; and then they called me Bydia
Pylath I Oh, they didn't do it for me in the least, but I don't
know as they had any reason to, either. I guess I've been all
wrong; " and she wiped her eyes, and blew her sharp, red nose,
and looked pitifully repentant for such a respectable, little;, old
fighter as she had always been.
"Well, I guess I've wronged you too, Victoria," she
snapped out, again emerging from her sopping handkerchief.
"I hope you'll forgive me. I guess my nerves are pretty
well upset by this nasty broken leg of mine. I don't feel very
pleased with what those boys said about me, but I s'pose you
can tell them I'm obliged."
It was, indeed, grudging thanks, but it was almost as
hard for Lydia Bjrpath to thank or to praise anybody as it
is for a boy to tell the tender thoughts that come into his
heart, and Miss Oracen had acquired much wisdom in deal-
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VICTORIA GRACEN 297
ing with human hearts during her winter's work; so now
she only smiled and, pressing her friend's hand understand-
ingly, said gently :
" I'll tell them/' and went away singing a song of triumph
in her heart. She would tell her boys. Oh, wouldn't she tell
them?
And when she did, putting the grudging words through
the lovely spectrum of her own imagination, or perhaps, more
strictly speaMng, through the clear analysis of what she knew
to be Lydia Bjrpath's true meaning, the boys stood back aston-
ished, awed, and slightly incredulous, it must be owned, among
themsely^.
^' She never said it like that," said Harold, *' not on your
life! She couldn't 1 But Miss Gracen saw that in it, and
thaf s what she wants us to see. Gee! you could almost love
her if you could see her through Miss Gracen's eyes every
day."
There came a day in early June when Lydia Bjrpath went
to church.
It was conmiimion Sabbath, and the windows were all wide
open, letting in the breath of the June roses that garlanded
the parsonage in lavish display, and the song of ravished birds
as they exulted in the day.
Lydia came in a wheeled chair, and it was Wayne Forrest
who wheeled it and who helped her up the steps and down the
aisle to her seat, and then went on to Miss Gracen's seat; for
Wayne and Dick and Tom and Harold were to unite with the
church that day, and Miss Gracen wanted them all to be
together.
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298 THE OBSESSION OF
Mrs. Constable was there^ having arrived home the night
before, and sailed into the church with smiling condescension,
attended by her portly husband, a look of unusual interest
on his florid countenance. He had never expected Harold to
do anything so altogether respectable as to imite with the
church, and he wajs openly pleased. Not that he knew much
about religion himself; but he felt that a connection with a
church would keep a boy from doing anything that was really
out-and-out disreputable.
Mrs. Atterbury was there with all the little Atterburys,
and turned a loving smile toward Tom, well content that he
should be with his friends on this day of all days. Just before
the service began Miss Oracen's carriage drew up before the
side door of the church, and there slipped out of it and into
the back seat of the church a quiet little woman in black
with a long, thick veil, who was attended by a handsome blue-
eyed girl with thick, yellow hair and an extremely simple white
dress and a small straw hat. Few saw them come in, and
they went before anybody had an opportunity to speak to
them. They were Wayne Forrest^s invalid mother and his
sister, and Wa3me did not know imtil he reached home that
d^y that they had been there.
The solemn, simple service was wonderfully impressive.
It seemed as though the coming of these four strong yoimg men
into the church had stirred the hearts of all present ; and, when
they marched quietly, embarrassedly up together to the front,
and stood with bowed heads and earnest mien, more than one
handkerchief was hastily taken out to dry a furtive, xmex-
pected tear. And *' Isn't it wonderful!*' one whispered.
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VICTORIA GRACEN 299
" That Wayne Forrest ! I always thought he looked as if he
had a great deal of character/* They had never said anything
in favor of his character before. *' And that handsome Harold
Constable ! I heard he was real wild. I wonder if it will last.
And Tom Atterbury 1 Mrs. Atterbury looks too happv to live.
I^m sure I hope ifs genuine. He does seem to have changed
a great deal this winter. I wonder how Miss Gracen did it.
That nephew of hers is a fine-looking fellow. It must have
been his influence.*'
And so went the comments softly^ or flashing from mind
to mind, and finding their way eventually to the dinner-tables
of the town. There were a few whose hearts were stirred
with a deep, glad joy, knowing the work of the Holy Spirit,
by the power of prayer, to change lives; and knowing the
drawing power of the Lord Jesus Christ. These believed in
the young converts, and had faith that they would conquer
temptations through Him who is able to keep such from fall-
ing and to present them to His Father blameless at the last
day.
Among these sat Victoria Gracen, too filled with deep joy
to do aught but smile and thank her heavenly Father; for she
had learned to love every one of these four boys as if he had
been her very own.
Sitting with her four boys later, during the communion
service, Victoria Gracen beheld as it were the gate of heaven
opened, and caught a glimpse of her Saviour's face. There
were others present of the boys who frequented her house;
but they had not presumed to sit with her that day, not
counting themselves to have yet attained to the privilege, but
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800 THE OBSESSION OP
sitting thoughtful, wistful, half decided; trying to make out
what had come over their comrades to make them willing to
surrender their lives, their fun, their liberty, everything, thus,
before the world, to an idea. They had not as yet seen the
whole vision.
When church was over, and the boys went solemnly, shyly
down the aisle, it was Lydia Bypath's hand that came out to
greet them first, to welcome them into the wonderful new
life; and her sharp little face was wet with tears and much
softened with smiles.
** I haven't been much of a Christian, I know you think,'*
she said softly; *'but I'm glad you've started, and I want to
ask you," — ^turning to Wayne, — ** to forgive me for the mean
things I said to you that day on the hill."
And Wayne, the hardness and blackness all gone out of
his fine face, stooped and took her hand, and in giving his
hand forgave forever the thing he had struggled to forgive,
and thought he never could.
Standing on the church steps with the minister, the senior
elder watched Miss Gracen going down the street with her
escort> following closely behind the wheeled chair containing
Miss B}rpath.
''It is wonderful, wonderful!" said the senior elder,
brushing a film from his eyes and! clearing his throat. " How
did she do it?"
She did it by giving hersdf/' said the minister softly.
''She never saved herself for anything else but those bojrs.
They said she was 'obsessed' by boys." He smiled reflec-
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VICTORIA GRACEN 801
tively; he had never told of Lydia Bypath^s visit except to his
wife. **They said she was 'obsessed by boys/ and do you
know Fve been thinking that, if the whole church could have
such an obsession^ we should be able to gather them all into
the Kingdom?'*
''Amen/' said the senior elder, and went reverently,
thoughtfully down the street behind the little procession.
O'r '-"-^
SOCIETY UBRARY
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J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY'S
New and Forthcoming Books
Peg Along
By GEORGE L. WALTON, M.D. xamo. Cloth, $xu>o net
Dr. Walton's slogan, *' Why Worry," swept the country.
His little book of that title did an infinite amount of good.
"Peg Along" is the 1915 slogan. Hundredc of thousands
of fussers, fretters, semi- and would-be invalids, and all
other halters by the wayside should be reached by
Dr. Walton's stirring encouragement to "peg along." In
this new book he shows us how to correct our missteps of
care, anxiety, fretting, fear, martyrism, over-insistence,
etc., by teaching us real steps in the chapters on work
and play, managing the mind, Franklin's and Bacon's
methods, etc., etc. Send coj, ies of this inspiring little work
to friends who appreciate bright wisdom. Win them into
joyful, happy "peggers along" to health and happiness.
Under the Red Cross Flag
At Home and Abroad
By BfABEL T. BOARDMAN, Chainnan of the National ReUef
Board, American Red Cross.
Foreword by PRESIDENT WOODROW WILSON.
Fully illustrated. Decorated cloth. Gilt top. $1.50 net.
The American Red Cross and the name of Miss Boardman
have been inseparably connected for many years; her own
story is one of fascinating human interest to all who feel a
bond of sympathy with those who suffer. To-day it is
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torical work upon the subject that has yet been written;
no one, accounting experience and literary ability, is
better fitted to present the facts than is the author.
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Joseph PennelFs Pictures
In the Land of Temples
WHQbl 40jUteg in ph o top a v ure from lithographi. Ihtroductkn
bj W. H. D. Rouse, UttD. Crown quarto. UXbognfk oa
cover. $1.35 net
Mr. Pcnncirs wonderful drawings present to us the
immortal witnesses of the "Glory mat was Greece" just
as they stand to-day, in their environment and the golden
atmosphere of Hellas. Whether it be the industrial giants
portrayed in "Pictures of the Panama Canal" or antique
temples presented in this fascinating volume, the great
lithographer proves himself to be a master craftsman of
this metier. The art of Greece is perhaps dead, but we
are fortunate in having such an interpreter. There it
every promise that this book will have the same value
among artists and book lovers as had his others.
"The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece!
Where burning Sappho loved and sung,"
have never had a more appreciative and sympathetic lover.
Christmas Carol
By CHARLES DICKSNS. 13 ilhistratloaB In color and nany
in black and white by Arthur Rickham. OctaTO. Deoorated
dotti. $1.50 net
All the praise that can be showered upon Joseph Pennell
as a master lithographer, is also the due mead of Arthur
Rackham as the most entrancing and mysterious color
illustrator in Europe. His work is followed by an army
of picture lovers of all types and of all ages, from the
children in the nurseries whose imagination he stirs with
the fiery-eyed dragons of some fairy illustration, to the
ambitious artists in every country who look to him as an
inspiring master.
If the decision had been left to the book-reading and
picture-loving public as to the most eligible story for
treatment, we believe that the Christmas Carol would
have been chosen. The children must see old Scrouge
and Tiny Tim as Rackham draws them.
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Historic Virginia Homes
and Churches
By ROBERT A. LANCASTER, JR. About 300 UlUStrfttions and
a photogravisre frontispiece. Quarto. In a box, cloth, gilt top.
$7.50 net Half morocco, $12.50 net. A Limited Edition print^
from type, imiform witii the PenneUs' ^'Onr Philadelphia."
Virginians are Justly proud of the historical and archi-
tectural glories of the Old Dominion. All America looks
to Virginia as a Cradle of American thought and culture.
This volume is a monument to Virginia, persons and places,
past and present. It has been printed in a limited edition
and the type has been distributed. This is not a volume
of padded value; it is not a piece of literary hack-work.
It has been a labor of love since first undertaken some
twenty-five years ago. The State has done her part by
providing the rich material, the Author his with pains-
taking care and loving diligence, and the Publishers theirs
by expending all the devices of the bookmaker's art.
Quaint and Historic
Forts of North America
By JOHN MARTIN HAMMOND, Author of *' Col<mial Man-
^ons of Maryland and Delaware.'* With photogravure frontis-
^ece and sizty-five illustrations. Ornamental cloth, ^t top,
in a box. $5.00 net.
This is an unique volume treating a phase of American
history that has never before been presented. Mr. Ham-
mond, in his excellent literary style with the aid of a
splendid camera, brings us on a journey through the exist-
ing old forts of North America and there describes their
appearances and confides in us their romantic and historic
interest. We follow the trail of the early English, French
and Spanish adventurers, and the soldiers of the Revolu-
tion, the War of 1812 and the later Civil and Indian Wars.
We coyer the entire country from Quebec and Nova Scotia
to California and Florida, with a side trip to Havana to
S predate the weird romance of the grim Morro Castle.
5re is something new and unique.
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The Magic of Jewels and Charms
By GEORGE FREDERICK KUNZ, AM., PHJ>., D.SC.
With numerotts plates in color, doubletone and line. Deco-
rated cloth, gilt top, in a box. $5.00 net Half morocco, $10.00
net Uniform in bM6 and size with ** The Curious Lore id
Precious Stones.'* The two volumes in a box, $zo.oo net
It will probably be a new and surely a fascinating sub-
ject to which Dr. Kunz introduces the reader. The most
primitive savage and the most highly developed Cauca-
sian find mystic meanings, symbols, sentiments and, above
all, beauty in jewels and precious stones; it is of this magic
lore that the distinguished author tells us. In past ages
there has grown up a great literature upon the subject —
books in every language from Icelandic to Siamese, from
Sanskrit to Irish — the lore is as profound and interesting
as one can imagine. In this volume you will find the
unique information relating to the magical influence which
precious stones, amulets and crystals have been supposed
to exert upon individuals and events.
The Civilization of Babylonia
and Assyria
. ByMORRIS JASTROW, JR.,PHJ>.,LLJ). 140 illustrations.
Octavo. Cloth, gilt top, in a box, $6.00 net
This work covers the whole civilization of Babylonia
and Assyria, and by its treatment of the various aspects
of that civilization furnishes a comprehensive and com-
plete survey of the subject. The language, history,
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presented in a manner of deep interest to the general
reader and indispensable to historians, clergymen, anthro-
pologists and sociologists. The volume is elaborately
illustrated and the pictures have been selected with the
greatest care so as to show every aspect of this civilization,
which alone disputes with that of Egypt, the fame of
being the oldest in the world. ^ For Bible scholars the
comparisons with Hebrew traditions and records will have
intense interest.
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English Ancestral Homes of
Noted Americans
By ANira HOLLINGSWORTH WHARTON, Author of " la
Chateau Land," etc., etc. 28 illustrations. lamo. Cloth $a.oo
net Half morocco, $4.00 net
Miss Wharton so enlivens the past that she makes the
distinguished characters of whom she treats live and talk
with us. She has recently visited the homelands of a num-
ber of our great American leaders and we seem to see upon
their native heath the English ancestors of George Wash-
ington, Benjamin Franklin, William Penn, the Pilgrim
Fathers and Mothers, the Maryland and Virginia Cava-
liers and others who have done their part in the making
of the United States. Although this book is written in aa
entertaining manner, and with many anecdotes and by-
paths to charm the reader, it is a distinct addition to the
literature of American history and will make a superb gift
for the man or woman who takes pride in his or her library.
Heroes and Heroines of Fiction
Classical, Mediaeval and Legendary
By WILLIAM S. WALSH. Half morocco, Reference Litauy
style, $3.00 net Uniform with " Heroes and Heroines of Fic-
tion, Modem Prose and Poetry.'* The two volumes in a boK|
$6.00 net
The fact that the educated men of to-day are not as
familiar with the Greek and Romai classics as were their
fathers gives added value to Mr. Walsh's fascinating com-
pilation. He gives the nime and cetting of all the any-
wise important characters in the literature of classical,
mediaeval and legendary times. To one who is accustomed
to read at all widely, it will be found of the greatest assist-
ance and benefit; to one who writes it will be invaluable.
These books comprise a complete encyclopedia of inter-
esting, valuable and curious facts regarding all the char-
acters of any note whatever in literature. This is the
latest addition to the world-famous Lippincott's Readers'
Reference Library. Each volume, as published, has be-
come a standard part of public and private librariet*
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A Wonderful Story of Heroism
The Home of the Blizzard
By SIR DOUGLAS MAWSON. Two Tolumes. 315 remaric-
able photogn^hs. x6 colored plates, drawings, plans, maps, etc*
8vo. $gu>onet
Have you heard Sir Douglas lecture? If you have, you
will want to read this book that you may become better
acquainted with his charming personality, and to preserve
in the three hundred and fifteen superb illustrations with
the glittering text, a permanent record of the greatest
battle that has ever been waged against the wind, the
snow, the crevice ice and the prolonged darkness of over
two years in Antarctic lands.
It has been estimated by critics as the most interesting
and the greatest account of Polar Exploration. For in-
stance, the London Athenaeum, an authority, said: "No
polar book ever written has surpassed these volumes in
sustained interest or in the variety of the subject matter."
It is indeed a tale of pluck, heroism and infinite endurance
that comes as a relief in the face of accounts of the same
qualities sacrificed in Europe for a cause so less worthy.
To understand "courage" you must read the author^s
account of his terrific struggle alone in the blizzard, — an
eighty-mile fight in a hurricane snow with his two com-
panions left dead behind him.
The wild life in the southern seas is multitudinous; whole
armies of dignified penguins were caught with the camera;
bluff old sea-lions and many a strange bird of this new
continent were so tame that they could be easily ap-
proached. For the first time actual colored photographs
bring to us the flaming lights of the untrodden land. They
are unsurpassed in any other work.
These volumes will be a great addition to your library;
whether large or small, literary or scientific, they are an
inspiration, a delight to read.
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Heart's Content
By RALPH HENRT BARBOUR. Illttstrations in color by
H. Weston Taylor. Pago D eccvations by Edward Stratton HoUo-
way. Handsome doth binding. In sealed padcet $1.50 net
This 18 the tale of a summer love affair carried on by an
unusual but altogether bewitching lover in a small summer
resort in New England. Allan Shortland, a gentleman,
a tramp, a poet, and withal the happiest of happy men,
is the hero; Beryl Vernon, as pretty as the ripple of her
name, is the heroine. Two more appealing personalities
are seldom found within the covers of a book. Fun and
plenty of it, romance and plenty of it, — and an end full
of happiness for the characters, and to the reader regret
that the story is over. The illustrations by H. Weston
Taylor, the decorations by Edward Stratton Holloway and
the tasteful sealed package are exquisite.
A New Volume m THE STORIES
ALL CHILDREN LOFE SERIES
Heidi
By JOHANNA SPTRL Translated by ELISABETH P.
STORK. Introduction by Charles Whartcm Stork. Witii eigjht
iUisstrations in color by Maria L. Kirk. Svo. $1.25 net
This is the latest addition to the Stories All Children
Love Series. The translation of the classic story has
been accomplished in a marvellously simple and direct
fashion, — it is a high example of the translator's art.
American children should be as familiar with it as they
are with "Swiss Family Robinson," and we feel certain
that on Christmas Day joy will be brought to the
nurseries in which this book is a present. The illustra*
tions by Maria L. Kirk are of the highest calibre, — the
color, freshness and fantastic airiness present just the
spark to kindle the imagination of the little tots.
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HEWLETTS GREATEST JFORK:
Romance^ Satire and a German
The Little Iliad
By MAURICB HEWLETT. Colored frontlspieca by Edward
Bume-Jones. lamo. $1.35 net
A "Hewlett" that you and every one else will enjoy!
It combines the rich romance of his earliest work with the
humor, freshness and gentle satire of his more recent.
The whimsical, delightful novelist has dipped his pen
in the inkhorn of modern matrimonial difficulties and
brings it out dripping with amiable humor, delicious but
fantastic conjecture. Helen of Troy lives again in the
Twentieth Century, but now of Austria; beautiful, be-
witching, love-compelling, and with it all married to a
ferocious German who has dsained the cup and is now
squeezing the dregs of all that life has to offer. He has
locomotor ataxia but that does not prevent his Neitschean
will from dominating all about him, nor does it prevent
Maurice Hewlett from making him one of the most inter-
esting and portentous characters portrayed by the hand
of an Englishman in many a day. Four brothers fall in
love with the fair lady, — there are amazing but happy
consequences. The author has treated an involved story
in a delightful, naive and refreshing manner.
The Sea-Hawk
By RAPHAEL SABATINL Z2mo. Cloth. $1.25 net
Sabatini has startled the reading public with this mag-
nificent romance! It is a thrilling treat to find a vivid,
clean-cut adventure yarn. Sincere in this, we beg vou,
brothers, fathers, husbands and comfortable old bachelors,
to read this tale and even to hand it on to your friends of
the fairer sex, provided you are certain that they do not
mind the glint of steel and the shrieks of dying captives.
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The Man From the
Bitter Roots
By CAROLINE LOCEHART. 3 illisstrations in color by Gayla
Hoskins. lamo. $1.25 net
"Better than *Me-SmIth*" — that is the word of those
who have read this story of the powerful, quiet, competent
Bruce Burt. You recall the humor of "Me-Smith," —
wait until you read the wise sayings of Uncle Billy and
the weird characters of the Hinds Hotel. You recall some
of those flashing scenes of "Me-Smith" — ^wait until you
read of the blizzard in the Bitter Roots, of Bruce Burt
throwing the Mexican wrestling champion, of the reckless
feat of shooting the Roaring River with the dynamos upon
the rafts, of the day when Bruce Burt almost killed a man
who tried to burn out his power plant, — then you will
know what hair-raising adventures really are. The tale
is dramatic from the first great scene in that log cabin
in the mountains when Bruce Burt meets the murderous
onslaught of his insane partner.
A Man's Hearth
By ELEANOR M. INGRAM. Illustrated in color by Edmund
Frederick. Z2mo. $1.25 net.
The key words to all Miss Ingram's stories are "fresh-
ness,'' "speed" and "vigor." "From the Car Behind"
was aptly termed "one continuous joy ride." "A Man's
Hearth" has all the vigor and go of the former story and
also a heart interest that gives a wider appeal. A young
New York millionaire, at odds with his family, finds his
solution in working for and loving the optimistic nurse-
maid who brought him from the depths of trouble and
made for him a hearthstone. There are fascinating side
issues but this is the essential story and it is ah inspiring
one. It will be one of the big books of the winter.
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By the author of ''MARCIA SCHUYLER''
""LOf MICHAEV ''THE BEST MAN"' eU.
The Obsession of Victoria Gracen
By GRACB UVIIf GSTX)N HILL LUTZ. Itttsstnited la color,
lamo. $1.35 net
Every mother, every church-worker, every individual
who desires to bring added happiness into the lives of
others should read this book. A new novel by the author
of "Marcia Schuyler" is always a treat for those of us
who want clean, cheerful, uplifting fiction of the sort that
you can read with pleasure, recommend with sincerity and
remember with thankfulness. This book has the exact
touch desired. The story is of the effect that an orphan
boy has upon his lonely aunt, his Aunt Vic. Her obsession
is her love for the lad and his happiness. There is the
never-failing fund of fun and^ optimism with the high
religious purpose that appears in all of Mrs, Lutz's excel-
lent stories.
Miranda
By GRACE LIVIN6ST0N HILL LUTZ. lUwtnited in color
byE.L. Henry, xamo. $1.25 net
Nearly all of us fell in love with Miranda when she first
appeared in "Marcia Schuyler," but those who missed
that happiness will now find her even more lovable in
this new book of which she is the central figure. From
cover to cover it is a tale of optimism, of courage, of
purpose. You lay it down with a revivified spirit, a
stronger heart for the struggle of this world, a clearer
hope lor the next, and a determination to make yourself
and the people with whom you come in contact cleaner,
more spiritual, more reverent than ever before. It is
deeply religious in character: a novel that will bring the
great spiritual truths of God, character and attainment
straight to the heart of every reader.
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''GRIPPING" DETECTIVE TALES
The White Alley
By CAROLTN WELLS, Frontispiece. lamo. $1.25 net.
FLEMING STONE, the ingenious American detective,
has become one of the best known characters in modem
fiction. He is the supreme wizard of crime detection in
the WHITE BIRCHES MYSTERY told in,— "THE
WHITE ALLEY.''
The Poj/on Transcript says: "As an incomparable
solver of criminal enigmas, Stone is in a class by himself.
A tale which will grip the attention." This is what
another says : — "Miss Wells's suave and polished detective,
Fleming Stone, goes through the task set for him with
celerity and dispatch. Miss Wells's characteristic humor
and cleverness mark the conversations." — New York Times.
The Woman in the Car
By RICHARD MARSH. i2mo. $1.35 net
Do you like a thrilling tale? If so, read this one and
we almost guarantee that you will not stir from your chair
until you turn the last page. As the clock struck midnight
on one of the most fashionable streets of London in the
Duchess of Ditchling's handsome limousine, ArthurTowzer,
millionaire mining magnate, is found dead at the wheel,
horribly mangled. Yes, this is a tale during the reading
of which you will leave your chair only to turn up the
gas. When you are not shuddering, you are thinking;
your wits are balanced against the mind and system of
the famous Scotlanci Yard, the London detective head-
quarters. The men or women who can solve the mystery
without reading the last few pages will deserve a reward, —
they should apply for a position upon the Pinkerton force.
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THE NOVEL THEY'RE ALL TALKING ABOUT
TheRose-Garden Husband
By MARGARET WIDDEliER. Illustrated by Walter Biggs.
Small X2mo* $1.00 net
'*A Benevolent Friend just saved me from missing ^The
Rose-Garden Husband.* It is something for thanks-
giving, so I send thanks to you and the author. The
story is now cut out and stitched and in my collection
of * worth-while ' stories, in a portfolio that holds only
the choicest stories from many magazines. There is a
healthy tone in this that puts it above most of these
choice ones. And a smoothness of action, a reality of
motive and speech, that comforts the soul of a veteran
reviewer." From a Letter to the Publishers.
Edition after edition of this novel has been sold, surely
you are not going to miss it. It is going the circle of family
after family, — every one likes it. The New York Times^
a paper that knows, calls it '^a sparkling, rippling little
tale." Order it now, — the cost is but one dollar.
The Diary of a Beauty
ByMOLLT ELLIOT SEAWELL. Bltsstrated by William Dorr
Steele, zamo. $1.25 net.
From the assistant postmistress in a small New England
village to the owner of a great mansion on Fifth Avenue
is the story told not as outsiders saw it, but as the beau-
tiful heroine experiences it, — an account so naive, so
deliciously cunning, so true, that the reader turns page
after page with an inner feeling of absolute satisfaction.
The Dusty Road
By THERESE TYLER. Frontispiece by H. Weston Taylor,
zamo. $z.a5net
This is a remarkable story of depth and power, — ^the
struggle of Elizabeth Anderson to clear herself of her
sordid surroundings. Such books are not written every
day, nor every year, nor every ten years. It is stimulating
to a higher, truer life. '
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RECENT VALUABLE PUBUCATIONS
The Practical Book of Period
Furniture
Treating of English Period Furniture, and American Furniture
of Colonial and Post-Colonial date, together with tiiat of the
typical French Periods.
By HAROLD DONALDSON EBERLEIN and ABBOTT Mc-
CLURE. With 225 illustrations in color, doubletone and line.
Octavo. Handsomely decorated cloth. In a box. $5.00 net
This book places at the disposal of the general reader all
the information he may need in order to identify and clas-
sify any piece of period furniture, whether it be an original,
or a reproduction. The authors have greatly increased
the value of the work by adding an illustrated chrono-
logical key by means of which the reader can distinguish
the difference of detail between the various related
periods. One cannot fail to find the book absorbingly
interesting as well as most useful.
The Practical Book of Oriental Rugs
By DR. G. GRIFFIN LEWIS, Author of ** The Mystery of the
Chiental Rug." New Edition, revised and eidarged. 20 full*
page illustrations in full color. 93 illustrations in doubletone.
70 designs in line. Folding chart of rug characteristics and a
map of the Orient Octavo. Handsomely bound. In a box.
$5.00 net
Have you ever wished to be able to judge, understand,
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looms? This is the book that you have been waiting for,
as all that one needs to know about oriental rugs is pre-
sented to the reader in a most engaging manner with illus-
trations that almost belie description. "From cover to
cover it is packed with detailed information compactly
and conveniently arranged for ready reference. Many
people who are interested in the beautiful fabrics of which
the author treats have long wished for such a book as
this and will be grateful to G. Griffin Lewis for writing it."
—Thf Dial.
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The Practical Book of Outdoor
Rose Growing
NEW EDITION
REVISED AND ENLARGED
By GEORGE C THOMAS» JR. EUborately iUustrated wifli
96 perfect photographic reproductions in full color of all Taiietiea
of roses and a few half tone plates. Octavo. Handsome doth
hbidhig, in a slip case* $4.00 net
This work has caused a sensation among rose growers,
amateurs and professionals. In the most practical and
easily understood way the reader is told just how to propa-
gate roses by the three principal methods of cutting,
budding and grafting* There are a number of pages in
which the complete list of the best roses for our climate
with their characteristics are presented. One prominent
rose grower said that these pages were worth their weight
in gold to him. The official bulletin of the Garden Club
of America said: — "It is a book one must have." It is
in fact in ever/ sense practical, stimulating, and suggestive.
The Practical Book of Garden
Architecture
By PHBBSWBSTCOTT HUMPHREYS. Frontispiece in cobr
and 125 ilhistrations from actual examples of garden archi-
tecture and house surroundings. OctsYo* In a box. $5.00 net
This beautiful volume has been prepared from the
standpoints of eminent practicability, the best taste, and
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beautiful, or so quaint and pleasing that one cannot resist
the appeal of the book, and one is inspired to m^ke plans,
simple or elaborate, for stone and concrete work to embel-
lish the garden.
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Handsome Art Works of Joseph Pennell
The reputation of the eminent artist is ever upon the
increase. His books are sought by all who wish their
libraries to contain the best in modern art. Here is your
opportunity to determine upon the purchase of three of
his most sought-after volumes.
Joseph Penneirs Pictures of the Panama Canal
(Fifth printing) 28 reproductions of lithograph! made on ^e
iBtbmtis of Panama between January and March, 19129 with
Mr. Pennell's Introduction givmg his experiences and impre^
fiions, and a full description of each picture. Volume 7K z 10
inches. BeautifoUy printed on dull Wished paper. Lithograph
by Mr* Pennell on cover. $1.25 net
"Mr. Pennell continues in this publication the fine work
which has won for him so much deserved popularity. He
does not merely portray the technical side of the work, but
rather prefers the human element." — American Art News.
Our Philadelphia
By ELIZABETH ROBINS PENNELL. Blustrated t^ Joseidi
PennelL Regular Edition. Containing 105 reproductionft ol
fithographs bv Joseph PennelL Quarto. 7K z 10 inches. 552
pages. Handsomely bound in red buckram* Boxed. $7.50 net.
Autograph Edition. Limited to 289 copies (Now veiy scarce).
Contaimi 10 drawings, reproduced by a new lithograph process, in
addition to the illustrations that appear in the regular edition. Quarto.
552 pages. Specially bound in gemune English Ihien bucknun in
CSty cotors, In cloth coTered box. $18.00 net
An intimate personal record in text and in picture of
the lives of the famous author and artist in a city with a
brilliant history, great beauty, immense wealth.
Life of James McNeill Whistler
By ELIZABETH ROBINS and JOSEPH PENNELL. Thor-
oughly revised Fifth Edition of the authorized Life, wHfamuch
new matter added which was not available at the tune of issue
ol the elaborate 2 volume edition, now out of print FuUy
illustrated with 97 plates reproduced from Whistler's workaL
Crown octavo. 450 pages. Whistler binding, deckle edges.
$3.50 net Three-quarter grain levant, $7.50 net
"In its present form and with the new illustrations,
some of which present to us works which are unfamiliar
to us, its popularity will be greatly increased." — InUf*
national Studio.
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The Stories AH Children Love Series
This set of books for children comprises some of the most
famous stories ever written. Each book has been a tried and
true friend in thousands of homes where there are boys and
girls. Fathers and mothers remembering their own delight
in the stories are finding that this handsome edition of old
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books have been carefully chosen, are beautifully illus-
trated, have attractive lining papers, dainty head and tail
pieces, and the decorative bindings make them worthy of
a permanent place on the library shelves.
TT • 1 • By JOHANNA SPYRL
rleiai TrantUted by EUsabeth P. Stork.
The Cuckoo Clock By mrs. molesworth.
The Swiss Family Robinson g. k^mh^n.
The Princess and the Goblin SLicmmAu^^
The Princess and Curdie SacdwuSx
At the Back of the North Wind ^t^om^D.
A Dog of Flanders By "ouida."
Bimbi By " ouida."
Mopsa, the Fairy By jean ingelow.
The Chronicles of Fairyland ByFERGus hume.
Hans Andersen's Fairy Tales
Each large octavo, with from 8 to la colored illustratioiis.
Handsome cloth binding, decorated in gold and color*
$1.25 net, per Yolume.
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