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 PS 3152.L7 
 
 A I ttle journey In the world :a novel / 
 
 3 1924 022 208 825 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tliis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022208825 
 
A LITTLE JOURJS^EY m 
 THE WORLD. A l^oyel. 
 By Chaeles Dtidlet Waeitee, 
 Author of "Their Pilgrimagej" 
 etc. 
 
 NEW YORK . HARPER &' BROTHERS, PRINTERS <&• 
 PUBLISHERS. FRANKLIN SQUARE, M iiOCC XCV. 
 
Copyright, 1889, by Harpee & Brothers. 
 A.U rights reserved. 
 
A LITTLE JOURNEY IN THE WORLD. 
 
 We were talking about the want of diversity in 
 American life, the lack of salient characters. It 
 was not at a clab. It was a spontaneous talk of 
 people who happened to be together, and who had 
 fallen into an uncompelled habit of happening to 
 be together. There might have been a club for 
 the study of the "Want of Diversity in American 
 Life. The members would have been obliged to 
 set apart a stated time for it, to attend as a duty, 
 and to be in a mood to discuss this topic at a set 
 ho'jir in the future. They would have mortgaged 
 another precious portion of the httle time left us 
 for individual hfe. 
 
 It is a suggestive thought that at a given hour 
 all over the United States innumerable clubs might 
 be considering the Want of Diversity in American 
 Life. Only in this way, according to our present 
 methods, could one expect to aocompHsh anything 
 in regard to this foreign-felt want. It seems iUog- 
 1 
 
2 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 ical that we could produce diversity by aE doing 
 the same thing at the same time, but we know the 
 value of congregate effort. It seems to superficial 
 observers that aU Americans are born busy. It is 
 not so. They are born with a fear of not being 
 busy; and if they are intelligent and in circum- 
 stances of leisure, they have such a sense of their 
 responsibihty that they hasten to allot all their 
 time into portions, and leave no hour unprovided 
 for. This is conscientiousness in women, and not 
 restlessness. There is a day for music, a day for 
 painting, a day for the display of tea-gowns, a day 
 for Dante, a day for the Greek drama, a day for 
 the Dumb Animals' Aid Society, a day for the So- 
 ciety for the Propagation of Indians, and so on. 
 When the year is over, the amount that has been 
 accomplished by this incessant activity can hardly 
 be estimated. Individually it may not be much. 
 But consider where Chaucer would be but for the 
 work of the Chaucer clubs, and what an effect 
 upon the universal progress of things is produced 
 by the associate concentration upon the poet of so 
 many minds. 
 
 A cynic says that clubs and circles are for the 
 accumulation of superficial information and unload- 
 ing it on others, without much individual absorp- 
 tion in anybody. This, like aU cynicism, contains 
 only a half-truth, and simply means that the gen- 
 eral diffusion of half-digested information does not 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 3 
 
 raise the general level of inteUigence, which, can 
 only be raised to any purpose by thorough self- 
 culture, by assimilation, digestion, meditation. The 
 busy bee is a favorite simile with us, and we are 
 apt to overlook the fact that the least important 
 part of his example is buzzing around. If the hive 
 simply got together and buzzed, or even brought 
 unrefined treacle from some cyclopaedia, let us say, 
 of treacle, there would be no honey added to the 
 general store. 
 
 It occurred to some one in this talk at last to 
 deny that there was this tiresome monotony in 
 American life. And this put a new face on the 
 discussion. "Why should there be, with every race 
 under the heavens represented here, and each one 
 struggling to assert itself, and no homogeneity as 
 yet established even between the people of the old- 
 est States ? The theory is that democracy levels, 
 and that the anxious pursuit of a common object, 
 money, tends to uniformity, and that facility of 
 communication spreads aU over the land the same 
 fashion in dress, and repeats everywhere the same 
 style of house, and that the public schools give all 
 the children in the United States the same super- 
 ficial smartness. And there is a more serious no- 
 tion, that in a society without classes there is a sort 
 of tyranny of public opinion which crushes out the 
 play of individual peculiarities, without which hu- 
 man intercourse is uninteresting. It is true that a 
 
4 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 democracy is intolerant of variations from the gen- 
 eral level, and that a new society allows less lati- 
 tude in eccentricities to its members than an old 
 society. 
 
 But with all these allowances, it is also admitted 
 that the diflculty the American novelist has is in 
 hitting upon what is universally accepted as char- 
 acteristic of American life, so various are the types 
 in regions widely separated from each other, such 
 different points of view are had even in conven- 
 tionalities, and conscience operates so variously on 
 moral problems in one community and another. 
 It is as impossible for one section to impose upon 
 another its rules of taste and propriety in conduct 
 — and taste is often as strong to determine con- 
 duct as principle — as it is to make its literature ac- 
 ceptable to the other. If in the land of the sun 
 and the jasmine and the alligator and the fig, the 
 literature of ]!few England seems passionless and 
 timid in face of the ruhng emotions of life, ought 
 we not to thank Heaven for the diversity of tem- 
 perament as weU as of climate which will in the 
 long-run save us from that sameness into which we* 
 are supposed to be drifting ? 
 
 When I think of this vast country with any at- 
 tention to local developments I am more impressed 
 with the unlikenesses than with the resemblances. 
 And besides this, if one had the ability to draw to 
 the life a single individual in the most homogene- 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 5 
 
 ous community, the product would be sufficiently 
 startling. We cannot flatter ourselves, therefore, 
 that under equal laws and opportunities we have 
 rubbed out the saliencies of human nature. At a 
 dista,nce the mass of the Eussian people seem as 
 monotonous as their steppes and their commune 
 villages, but the Eussian novehsts find characters 
 in this mass perfectly individualized, and, indeed, 
 give us the impression that all Eussians are irregu- 
 lar polygons. Perhaps if our novelists looked at 
 individuals as intently, they might give the world 
 the impression that social life here is as unpleasant 
 as it appears in the novels to be in Eussia. 
 
 This is partly the substance of what was said one 
 winter evening before the wood fire in the library 
 of a house in Brandon, one of the lesser ITew Eng- 
 land cities. Like hundreds of residences of its 
 kind, it stood in the suburbs, amid forest -trees, 
 commanding a view of city spires and towers on 
 the one hand, and on the other of a broken coun- 
 try of clustering trees and cottages, rising towards 
 a range of hills which showed purple and warm 
 "against the pale straw-color of the winter sunsets. 
 The charm of the situation was that the house was 
 one of many comfortable dwellings, each isolated, 
 and yet near enough together to form a neighbor- 
 hood; that is to say, a body of neighbors who 
 respected each other's privacy, and yet flowed to- 
 gether, on occasion, without the least convention- 
 
6 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 ality. And a real neighborhood, as our modern 
 life is arranged, is becoming more and more rare. 
 I am not sure that the talkers in this conversa- 
 tion expressed their real, final sentiments, or that 
 they should be held accountable for what they said. 
 Nothing so surely kills the freedom of talk as to 
 have some matter-of-fact person instantly bring 
 you to book for some impulsive remark flashed out 
 on the instant, instead of playing with it and toss- 
 ing it about in a way that shall expose its absurdi- 
 ty or show its value. Freedom is lost with too 
 much responsibility and seriousness, and the truth 
 is more likely to be struck out in a lively play of 
 assertion and retort than when all the words and 
 sentiments are weighed. A person very Ukely can- 
 not tell what he does think till his thoughts are 
 exposed to the air, and it is the bright fallacies and 
 impulsive, rash ventures in conversation that are 
 often most fruitful to talker and listeners. The 
 talk is always tame if no one dares anything. I 
 have seen the most promising paradox come to 
 grief by a simple " Do you think so ?" Nobody, I 
 sometimes think, should be held accountable for 
 anything said in private conversation, the vivacity 
 of which is in a tentative play about the subject. 
 And this is a sufficient reason why one should re- 
 pudiate any private conversation reported in the 
 newspapers. It is bad enough to be held fast for- 
 ever to what one writes and prints, but to shackle 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 7 
 
 a man with all his flashing utterances, which may 
 be put into his mouth by some imp in the air, is 
 intolerable slavery. A man had better be silent if 
 he can only say to-day what he will stand by to- 
 morrow, or if he may not launch into the general 
 talk the whim and fancy of the moment. Eacy, 
 entertaining talk is only exposed thought, and no 
 one would hold a man responsible for the throng- 
 ing thoughts that contradict and displace each 
 other in his mind. Probably no one ever actually 
 makes up his mind until he either acts or puts out 
 his conclusion beyond his recall. "Why should one 
 be debarred the privilege of pitching his crude 
 ideas into a conversation where they may have a 
 chance of being precipitated ? 
 
 I remember that Morgan said in this talk that 
 there was too much diversity. "Almost every 
 church has trouble with it — the different social 
 conditions." 
 
 An EngUshman who was present pricked up his 
 ears at this, as if he expected to obtain a note on 
 the character of Dissenters. "I thought all the 
 churches here were organized on social affinities ?" 
 he inquired. 
 
 " Oh no ; it is a good deal a matter of vicinage. 
 When there is a real-estate extension, a necessary 
 part of the plan is to build a church in the centre 
 of it, in order to — " 
 
 "I declare, Page," said Mrs. Morgan, "you'll 
 
8 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 give. Mr. Lyon a totally erroneous notion. Of 
 course there must be a church convenient to the 
 worshippers in every district." 
 
 " That is just what I was saying, my dear. As 
 the settlement is not drawn together on rehgious 
 grounds, but perhaps by purely worldly motives, 
 the elements that meet in the church are apt to be 
 socially incongruous, such as cannot always be fused 
 even by a church-kitchen and a church-parlor." 
 
 " Then it isn't the peouharity of the church that 
 has attracted to it worshippers who would natu- 
 rally come together, but the church is a neighbor- 
 hood necessity V still further inquired Mr. Lyon. 
 
 " AU is," I ventured to put in, " that churches 
 grow up like school-houses, where they are want- 
 ed." 
 
 " I beg your pardon," said Mr. Morgan ; " I'm 
 talking about the kind of want that creates them. 
 If it's the same that builds a music haU, or a. gym- 
 nasium, or a railway waiting-room, I've nothing 
 more to say." 
 
 " Is it your American idea, then, that a church 
 ought to be formed only of people socially agree- 
 able together ?" asked the Englishman. 
 
 "I have no American idea. I am only com- 
 menting on facts ; but one of them is that it is the 
 most difficult thing in the world to reconcile relig- 
 ious association with the real or artificial claims of 
 social life." 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 9 
 
 " I don't think you try much," said Mrs. Morgan, 
 who carried along her traditional religious observ- 
 ances with grateful admiration of her husband. 
 
 Mr. Page Morgan had inherited money, and a 
 certain advantageous position for observing life 
 and criticising it, humorously sometimes, and with- 
 out any serious intention of disturbing it. He had 
 added to his fair fortune by marrying the daintily 
 reared daughter of a cotton-spinner, and he had 
 enough to do in attending meetings of directors 
 and looking out for his investments to keep him 
 from the operation of the State law regarding va- 
 grants, and give greater social weight to his opin- 
 ions than if he had beein compelled to work for his 
 maintenance. The Page Morgans had been a good 
 deal abroad, and were none the worse Americans 
 for having come in contact with the knowledge 
 that there are other peoples who are reasonably 
 prosperous and happy without any of our advan- 
 tages. 
 
 " It seems to me," said Mr. Lyon, who was always 
 in the conversational attitude of wanting to know, 
 " that you Americans are disturbed by the notion 
 that religion ought to produce social equality." 
 
 Mr. Lyon had the air of conveying the impres- 
 sion that this question was settled in England, and 
 that America was interesting on account of numer- 
 ous experiments of this sort. This state of mind 
 was not offensive to his interlocutors, because they 
 
10 A Little Journey in ike World. 
 
 were accustomed to it in transatlantic visitors. 
 Indeed, there was nothing whatever offensive, and 
 little defensive, iti Mr. John Lyon. "What we liked 
 in him, I think, was his simple acceptance of a po- 
 sition that required neither explanation nor apolo- 
 gy — a social condition that banished a sense of his 
 own personaUty, and left him perfectly free to be 
 absolutely truthful. Though an eldest son and 
 next in succession to an earldom, he was still 
 young. Fresh from Oxford and South Africa and 
 Australia and British Columbia, he had come to 
 " study " the States with a view of perfecting him- 
 self for his duties as a legislator for the world when 
 he should be called to the House of Peers. He did 
 not treat himself like an earl, whatever conscious- 
 ness he may have had that his prospective rank 
 made it safe for him to flirt with the various forms 
 of equality abroad in this generation. 
 
 " I don't know what Christianity is expected to 
 produce," Mr. Morgan replied, in a meditative way ; 
 "but I have an idea that the early Christians in 
 their assemblies all knew each other, having met 
 elsewhere in social intercourse, or, if they were not 
 acquainted, they lost sight of distinctions in one 
 paramount interest. But then I don't suppose they 
 were exactly civilized." 
 
 "Were the Pilgrims and the Puritans?" asked 
 Mrs. Fletcher, who now joined the talk, in which 
 she had been a most animated and stimulating lis- 
 
A lAtUe Journey in the World. 11 
 
 tener, her deep gray eyes dancing -with intellectual 
 pleasure. 
 
 " I should not hke to answer ' no * to a descend- 
 ant of the Mayflower. Yes, they were highly civ- 
 ilized. And if we had adhered to their methods, 
 we should have avoided a good deal of confusion. 
 The meeting-house, you remember, had a commit- 
 tee for seating people according to their quality. 
 They were very shrewd, but it had not occurred to 
 them to give the best pews to the sitters able to 
 pay the most money for them. They escaped the 
 perplexity of reconciUng the mercantile and the 
 religious ideas." 
 
 " At any rate," said Mrs. Fletcher, " they got all 
 sorts of people inside the same meeting-house." 
 
 " Yes, and made them feel they were all sorts ; 
 but in those days they were not much disturbed by 
 that feeling." 
 
 " Do you mean to say," asked Mr. Lyon, " that 
 in this country you have churches for the rich and 
 other churches for the poor V 
 
 " Not at all. "We have in the cities rich churches 
 and poor churches, with prices of pews according 
 to the means of each sort, and the rich are always 
 glad to have the poor come, and if they do not 
 give them the best seats, they equalize it by taking 
 up a collection for them." 
 
 " Mr. Lyon," Mrs. Morgan interrupted, " you are 
 getting a travesty of the whole thing. I don't be- 
 
12 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 lieve there is elsewhere in the world such a spir- 
 it of Christian charity as in our churches of all 
 sects." 
 
 " There is no doubt about the charity ; but that 
 doesn't seem to make the social machine run any 
 more smoothly in the church associations. I'm not 
 sure but we shall have to go back to the old idea 
 of considering the churches places of worship, and 
 not opportunities for sewing-societies and the culti- 
 vation of social equality." 
 
 "I found the idea in Kome," said Mr. Lyon, 
 " that the United States is now the most promising 
 field for the spread and permanence of the Koman 
 Catholic faith." 
 
 " How is that ?" Mr. Fletcher asked, with a smile 
 of Puritan incredulity. 
 
 " A high functionary at the Propaganda gave as 
 a reason that the United States is the most demo- 
 cratic country and the Eoman Catholic is the most 
 democratic religion, having this one notion that all 
 men, high or low, are equally sinners and equally 
 in need of one thing only. And I must say that 
 in this country I don't find the question of social 
 equality interfering much with the work in their 
 churches." 
 
 " That is because they are not trying to make 
 this world any better, but only to prepare for an- 
 other," said Mrs. Fletcher. 
 
 "JS'ow, we think that the nearer we approach the 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 13 
 
 kingdom-of-heaven idea on earth, the better off we 
 shall be hereafter. Is that a modem idea ?" 
 
 " It is an idea that is giving us a great deal of 
 trouble. "We've got into such a sophisticated state 
 that it seems easier to take care of the future than 
 of the present." 
 
 "And it isn't a very bad doctrine that if you 
 .take care of the present, the future will take care 
 of itself," rejoined Mrs. Fletcher. 
 
 "Yes, I know," insisted Mr. Morgan; "it's the 
 modern notion of accumulation and compensation 
 — take care of the pennies and the pounds will take 
 care of themselves — the gospel of Benjamin Frank- 
 lin." 
 
 "Ah," I said, looking up at the entrance of a 
 new-comer, "you are just in time, Margaret, to 
 give the cov^ de grace, for it is evident by Mr. 
 Morgan's reference, in his Bunker HiU position, to 
 Franklin, that he is getting out of powder." 
 
 The girl stood a moment, her slight figure framed 
 in the door-way, while the company rose to greet 
 her, with a half -hesitating, half -inquiring look in 
 her bright face which I had seen in it a thousand 
 times. 
 
II. 
 
 I EEMEMBEE that it Came upon me with a sort of 
 surprise at the moment that we had never thought 
 or spoken much of Margaret Debree as beautiful. 
 We were so accustomed to her, we had known her 
 so long, we had known her always. "We had never 
 analyzed our admiration of her. She had so many 
 qualities that are better than beauty that we had 
 not credited her with the more obvious attraction. 
 And perhaps she had just become visibly beautiful. 
 It may be that there is an instant in a girl's life 
 corresponding to what the Puritans called conver- 
 sion in the soul, when the physical qualities, long 
 maturing, suddenly glow in an effect which we call 
 beauty. It cannot be that women do not have a 
 consciousness of it, perhaps of the instant of its ad- 
 vent. I remember when I was a child that I used 
 to think that a stick of peppermint candy must 
 burn with a consciousness of its own deliciousness. 
 
 Margaret was just turned twenty. As she paused 
 there in the door-way her physical perfection flash- 
 ed upon me for the first time. Of course I do not 
 mean perfection, for perfection has no promise in 
 it, rather the sad note of limit, and presently reces- 
 
A Little Jov/rney in the World. 15 
 
 sion. In the rounded, exquisite lines of her figure 
 there was the promise of that ineffable fulness and 
 delicacy of womanhood which all the world raves 
 about and destroys and mourns. It is not fulfilled 
 always in the most beautiful, and perhaps never 
 except to the woman who loves passionately, and 
 believes she is loved with a devotion that exalts her 
 body and soul above every other human being. 
 
 It is certain that Margaret's beauty was not clas- 
 sic. Her features were irregular even to piquancy. 
 The chin had strength; the mouth was sensitive 
 and not too small ; the shapely nose with thin nos- 
 trils had an assertive quality that contradicted the 
 impression of humility in the eyes when downcast ; 
 the large gray eyes were uncommonly soft and 
 clear, an appearance of alternate tenderness and 
 brilliancy as they were veiled or uncovered by the 
 long lashes. They were gently commanding eyes, 
 and no doubt her most effective point. Her abun- 
 dant hair, brown with a touch of red in it in some 
 lights, fell over her broad forehead in the fashion 
 of the time. She had a way of carrying her head, 
 of throwing it back at times, that was not exactly 
 imperious, and conveyed the impression of spirit 
 rather than of mere vivacity. These details seem 
 to me all inadequate and misleading, for the attrac- 
 tion of the face that made it interesting is still un- 
 defined. I hesitate to say that there was a dimple 
 near the corner of her mouth that revealed itself 
 
16 A. Little Journey in the World. 
 
 ■when she smiled lest this shall seem mere pretti- 
 ness, but it may have been the key-note of her face. 
 I only knew there was something about it that 
 won the heart, as a too conscious or assertive beau- 
 ty never does. She may have been plain, and I 
 may have seen the lovehness of her nature, which 
 I knew so well, in features that gave less sign of it 
 to strangers. Yet I noticed that Mr. Lyon gave 
 her a quick second glance, and his manner was in- 
 stantly that of deference, or at least attention, 
 which he had shown to no other lady in the room. 
 And the whimsical idea came into my mind — we 
 are aU so warped by international possibilities — to 
 observe whether she did not walk like a countess 
 (that is, as a countess ought to walk) as she ad- 
 vanced to shake hands with my wife. It is so easy 
 to turn life into a comedy ! 
 
 Margaret's great- grandmother ^ — no, it was her 
 great -great -grandmother, but we have kept the 
 Kevolutionary period so warm lately that it seems 
 near — was a Newport belle, who married an officer 
 in the suite of Eochambeau what time the French 
 defenders of liberty conquered the women of Rhode 
 Island. After the war was over, our officer re- 
 signed his love of glory for the heart of one of the 
 loveliest women and the care of the best plantation 
 on the Island. I have seen a miniature of her, 
 which her lover wore at Yorktown, and which he 
 always swore that Washington coveted — a minia- 
 
A Little Jov/rney in the World. 17 
 
 ture painted by a wandering artist of the day, 
 which entirely justifies the French officer in his 
 abandonment of the trade of a soldier. Such is 
 man in his best estate. A charming face can make 
 him campaign and fight and slay hke a demon, can 
 make a coward of him, can fiU him with ambition 
 to win the world, and can tame him into the do- 
 mesticity of a drawing-room cat. There is this noble 
 capacity in man to respond to the divinest thing 
 visible to him in this world. . Etienne Debree be- 
 came, I believe, a very good citizen of the repubhc, 
 and in '93 used occasionally to shake his head with 
 satisfaction to find that it was still on his shoul- 
 ders. I am not sure that he ever visited Mount 
 Vernon, but after Washington's death Debree's in- 
 timacy with our first President became a more and 
 more important part of his hfe and conversation. 
 There is a pleasant tradition that Lafayette, when 
 he was here in 1784, embraced the young bride in 
 the French manner, and that this salute was valued 
 as a sort of heirloom in the family. 
 
 I always thought that Margaret inherited her 
 New England conscience from her great -great- 
 grandmother, and a certain esprit or gayety — that 
 is, a sub-gayety which was never frivolity — from 
 her French ancestor. Her father and mother had 
 died when she was ten years old, and she had been 
 reared by a maiden aunt, with whom she still Uved. 
 The combined fortunes of both required economy, 
 2 
 
18 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 and after Margaret had passed her school course 
 she added to their resources by teaching in a pub- 
 lic school. I remember that she taught history, 
 following, I suppose, the American notion that any 
 one can teach history who has a text-book, just as 
 he or she can teach literature with the same help. 
 But it happened that Margaret was a better teach- 
 er than many, because she had not learned history 
 in school, but in her father's well-selected library. 
 
 There was a httle stir at Margaret's entrance; 
 Mr. Lyon was introduced to her, and my wife, with 
 that subtle feeling for effect which women have, 
 slightly changed the lights. Perhaps Margaret's 
 complexion or her black dress made this readjust- 
 ment necessary to the harmony of the room. Per- 
 haps she felt the presence of a different tempera- 
 ment in the little circle. I never can tell exactly 
 what it is that guides her in regard to the influence 
 of Ught and color upon the intercourse of people, 
 upon their conversation, making it take one cast or 
 another. Men are susceptible to these influences, 
 but it is women alone who understand how to pro- 
 duce them. And a woman who has not this subtle 
 feeUng always lacks charm, however intellectual 
 she may be ; I always think of her as sitting in the 
 glare of disenchanting sunlight as indifferent to 
 the exposure as a man would be. I know in a 
 general way that a sunset light induces one kind 
 of talk and noonday Hght another, and I have 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 19 
 
 learned that talk always brightens up with the ad- 
 dition of a fresh crackhng stick to the fire. I 
 shouldn't have known how to change the lights for 
 Margaret, although I think I had as distinct an 
 impression of her personaUty as had my wife. 
 There was nothing disturbing in it ; indeed, I never 
 saw her otherwise than serene, even when her voice 
 betrayed strong emotion. The quality that im- 
 pressed me most, however, was her sincerity, coupled 
 with intellectual courage and clearness that had 
 almost the effect of brilhancy, though I never 
 thought of her as a brilliant woman. 
 
 " What mischief have you been attempting, Mr. 
 Morgan ?" asked Margaret, as she took a chair near 
 him. " Were you trying to make Mr. Lyon com- 
 fortable by dragging in Bunker HiU ?" 
 
 " No ; that was Mr. Fairchild, in his capacity as 
 host." 
 
 " Oh, I'm sure you needn't mind me," said Mr. 
 Lyon, good-humoredly. " I landed in Boston, and 
 the first thing I went to see was the Monument. 
 It struck me as so odd, you know, that the Ameri- 
 cans should begin life by celebrating their first de- 
 feat." 
 
 "That is our way," replied Margaret, quickly. 
 " We have started on a new basis over here ; we 
 win by losing. He who loses his life shall find it. 
 If the red slayer thinks he slays he is mistaken. 
 You know the Southerners say that they surren- 
 
20 A Little Journey in tJie World. 
 
 dered at last simply because they got tired of beat- 
 ing the North." 
 
 "How odd!" 
 
 " Miss Debree simply means," I explained, " that 
 we have inherited from the Enghsh an inabihty to 
 know when we are whipped." 
 
 " But we were not fighting the battle of Bunker 
 Hill, or fighting about it, which is more serious. 
 Miss Debree. What I wanted to ask you was 
 whether you think the domestication of religion 
 win affect its power in the regulation of conduct." 
 
 " Domestication ? You are too deep for me, Mr. 
 Morgan. I don't any more understand you than I 
 comprehend the writers who write about the femi- 
 nization of literature." 
 
 " Well, taking the mystery out of it, the predom- 
 inant element of worship, making the churches sort 
 of good-will charitable associations for the spread 
 of sociability and good-feeling." 
 
 " You mean making Christianity practical?" 
 
 "Partially that. It is a part of the general 
 problem of what women are going to make of the 
 world, now they have got hold of it, or are getting 
 hold of it, and are discontented with being women, 
 or with being treated as women, and are bringing 
 their emotions into all the avocations of life." 
 
 "They cannot make it any worse than it has 
 been." 
 
 " I'm not sure of that. Kobustness is needed in 
 
A Little Journey vn the World. 21 
 
 churches as much as in government. I don't know 
 how much the cause of rehgion is advanced by 
 these church clubs of Christian Endeavor, if that is 
 the name, associations of young boys and girls who 
 go about visiting other like clubs in a sufficiently 
 hilarious manner. I suppose it's the spirit of the 
 age. I'm just wondering whether the world is 
 getting to think more of having a good time than 
 it is of salvation." 
 
 "And you think woman's influence — for you 
 cannot mean anything else — is somehow taking 
 the vigor out of affairs, making even the church a 
 soft, purring affair, reducing us all to what I sup- 
 pose you would call a mush of domesticity." 
 
 " Or femininity." 
 
 "Well, the world has been brutal enough; it 
 had better try a Uttle femininity now." 
 
 " I hope it will not be more cruel to women." 
 
 "That is not an argument; that is a stab. I 
 fancy you are altogether sceptical about woman. 
 Do you beheve in her education ?" 
 
 " Up to a certain point, or rather, I should say, 
 after a certain point." 
 
 " That's it," spoke up my wife, shading her eyes 
 from the fire with a fan. "I begin to have my 
 doubts about education as a panacea. I've noticed 
 that girls with only a smattering — and most of 
 them in the nature of things can go no further — 
 are more liable to temptations." 
 
22 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 "That is because 'education' is mistaken for 
 the giving of information without training, as we 
 are finding out in England," said Mr. Lyon. 
 
 " Or that it is dangerous to awaken the imagi- 
 nation without a heavy ballast of principle," said 
 Mr. Morgan. 
 
 "That is a beautiful sentiment," Margaret ex- 
 claimed, throwing back her head, with a flash from 
 her eyes. " That ought to shut out women entire- 
 ly. Only I cannot see how teaching women what 
 men know is going to give them any less principle 
 than men have. It has seemed to me a long while 
 that the time has come for treating women like 
 human beings, and giving them the responsibility 
 of their position." 
 
 " And what do you want, Margaret ?" I asked. 
 
 " I don't know exactly what I do want," she an- 
 swered, sinking back in her chair, sincerity coming 
 to modify her enthusiasm. " I don't want to go 
 to Congress, or be a sherifp, or a lawyer, or a loco- 
 motive engineer. I want the freedom of my own 
 being, to be interested in everything in the world, 
 to feel its hfe as men do. You don't know what 
 it is to have an inferior person condescend to you 
 simply because he is a man." 
 
 " Yet you wish to be treated as a woman ?" que- 
 ried Mr. Morgan. 
 
 "Of course. Do you think I want to banisb 
 romance out of the world ?" 
 
A Little Journey in the Whrld, 23 
 
 " Tou are rigM, my dear," said my wife. " The 
 only thing that makes society any better than an 
 industrial ant-hill is the love between women and 
 men, blind and destructive as it often is." 
 
 " Well," said Mrs. Morgan, rising to go, " having 
 got back to first principles — " 
 
 " You think it is best to take your husband home 
 before he denies even them," Mr. Morgan added. 
 
 "When the others had gone, Margaret sat by the 
 fire, musing, as if no one else were' in the room. 
 The Englishman, still alert and eager for informa- 
 tion, regarded her with growing interest. It came 
 into my mind as odd that, being such an uninter- 
 esting people as we are, the English should be so 
 curious about us. After an interval, Mr. Lyon 
 said: 
 
 " I beg your pardon. Miss Debree, but would you 
 mind telling me whether the movement of Wom- 
 en's Eights is gaining in America V 
 
 " I'm sure I don't know, Mr. Lyon," Margaret 
 replied, after a pause, with a look of weariness. 
 " I'm tired of all the talk about it. I wish men 
 and women, every soul of them, would try to make 
 the most of themselves, and see what would come 
 of that" 
 
 " But in some places they vote about schools, 
 and you have conventions — " 
 
 "Did you ever attend any kind of convention 
 yourself, Mr. Lyon ?" 
 
24 A Little Journey im, the World. 
 
 "I? No. Why?" 
 
 " Oh, nothing. Neither did I. But you have a 
 right to, you know. I should like to ask you one 
 question, Mr. Lyon," the girl continued, rising. 
 
 " Should be most obliged." 
 
 " Why is it that so few English women marry 
 Americans ?" 
 
 "I — I never thought of that," he stammered, 
 reddening. "Perhaps — perhaps it's because of 
 American women." 
 
 " Thank you," said Margaret, with a little court- 
 esy. " It's very nice of you to say that. I can be- 
 gin to see now why so many American women 
 marry Englishmen." 
 
 The Enghshman blushed still more, and Mar- 
 garet said good-night. 
 
 It was quite evident the next day that Margaret 
 had made an impression on our visitor, and that he 
 was struggling with some new idea. 
 
 "Did you say, Mrs. Fairchild," he asked my 
 wife, " that Miss Debree is a teacher ? It seems 
 very odd." 
 
 " No ; I said she taught in one of our schools. I 
 don't think she is exactly a teacher." 
 
 "Not intending always to teach?" 
 
 " I don't suppose she has any definite intentions, 
 but I never think of her as a teacher." 
 
 "She's so bright, and — and interesting, don't 
 you think ? So American ?" 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 25 
 
 " Yes ; Miss Debree is one of the exceptions." 
 
 " Oh, I didn't mean that all American women 
 were as clever as Miss Debree." 
 
 " Thank you," said my wife. And Mr. Lyon 
 looked as if he couldn't see why she should thank 
 him. 
 
 The cottage in which Margaret lived with her 
 aunt. Miss Forsythe, was not far from our house. 
 In summer it was very pretty, with its vine-shaded 
 veranda across the front ; and even in winter, with 
 the inevitable raggedness of deciduous vines, it had 
 an air of refinement, a promise which the cheerful 
 interior more than fulfilled. Margaret's parting 
 word to my wife the night before had been that 
 she thought her aunt would like to see the " chrysa- 
 lis earl," and as Mr. Lyon had expressed a desire 
 to see something more of what he called the " gen- 
 try " of New England, my wife ended their after- 
 noon walk at Miss Forsythe's. 
 
 It was one of the winter days which are rare in 
 New England, but of which there had been a suc- 
 cession aU through the Christmas holidays. Snow 
 had not yet come, all the earth was brown and 
 frozen, whichever way you looked the interlacing 
 branches and twigs of the trees made a delicate 
 lace-work, the sky was gray-blue, and the low-sail- 
 ing sun had just enough heat to evoke moisture 
 from the frosty ground and suffuse the atmosphere 
 into softness, in which aU the landscape became 
 
26 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 poetic. The phenomenon known as " red sunsets " 
 was faintly repeated in the greenish crimson glow 
 along the violet hills, in which Venus burned like 
 a jewel. 
 
 There was a fire smouldering on the hearth in 
 the room they entered, which seemed to be sitting- 
 room, library, parlor, all in one; the old table of 
 oak, too substantial for ornament, was strewn with 
 late periodicals and pamphlets— English, American, 
 and French — and with books which lay unarranged 
 as they were thrown down from recent reading. 
 In the centre was a bunch of red roses in a pale- 
 blue Granada jug. Miss Forsythe rose from a 
 seat in the western window, with a book in her 
 hand, to greet her callers. She was slender, like 
 Margaret, but taUer, with soft brown eyes and 
 hair streaked with gray, which, sweeping plain- 
 ly aside from her forehead in a fashion then anti- 
 quated, contrasted finely with the flush of pink in 
 her cheeks. This flush did not suggest youth, but 
 rather ripeness, the tone that comes with the fines 
 made in the face by gentle acceptance of the in- 
 evitable in fife. In her quiet and self-possessed 
 manner there was a little note of graceful timidi- 
 ty, not perhaps noticeable in itself, but in contrast 
 with that unmistakable air of confidence which a 
 woman married always has, and which in the unre- 
 fined becomes assertive, an exaggerated notion, of 
 her importance, of the value added to her opinions 
 
A Little Jowrney in the Wwld. 27 
 
 by the act of marriage. Tou can see it in her air 
 the moment she walks away from the altar, keep- 
 ing step to Mendelssohn's tune. Jack Sharpley 
 says that she always seems to be saying, " Well, 
 I've done it once for all." This assumption of the 
 married must be one of the hardest things for sin- 
 gle women to bear in their self - congratulating 
 sisters. 
 
 I have no doubt that Georgiana Forsythe was 
 a charming girl, spirited and handsome; for the 
 beauty of her years, almost pathetic in its dignity 
 and self-renunciation, could not have followed mere 
 prettiness or a commonplace experience. What 
 that had been I never inquired, but it had not 
 soured her. She was not communicative nor con- 
 fidential, I fancy, with any one, but she was always 
 friendly and sympathetic to the trouble of others, 
 and helpful in an undemonstrative way. If she 
 herself had a secret feeling that her hfe was a 
 failure, it never impressed her friends so, it was so 
 even, and full of good offices and quiet enjoyment. 
 Heaven only knows, however, the pathos of this 
 apparently undisturbed life. For did a woman 
 ever live who would not give all the years of taste- 
 less serenity, for one year, for one month, for one 
 hour, of the uncalculating delirium of love poured 
 out upon a man who returned it ? 
 
 It may be better for the world that there are 
 these women to whom life has stiU some mys- 
 
28 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 teries, who are capable of illusions and the sweet 
 sentimentality that grows out of a romance unre- 
 alized. 
 
 Although the recent books were on Miss For- 
 sythe's table, her tastes and culture were of the 
 past age. She admired Emerson and Tennyson. 
 One may keep current with the news of the world 
 without changing his principles. I imagine that 
 Miss Forsythe read without injury to herself the 
 passionate and the pantheistic novels of the young 
 women who have come forward in these days of 
 emancipation to teach their grandmothers a new 
 basis of morality, and to render meaningless all 
 the consoling epitaphs on the mossy New England 
 grave -stones. She read Emerson for his sweet 
 spirit, for his belief in love and friendship, her sim- 
 ple Congregationalist faith remaining undisturbed 
 by his philosophy, from which she took only a 
 habit of toleration. 
 
 " Miss Debree has gone to church," she said, in 
 answer to Mr. Lyon's glance around the room. 
 
 " To vespers ?" 
 
 " I beheve they call it that. Our evening meet- 
 ings, you know, only begin at early candlelight." 
 
 " And you do not belong to the Church ?" 
 
 " Oh yes, to the ancient aristocratic church of 
 colonial times," she replied, with a littie smile of 
 amusement. " My niece has stepped off Plymouth 
 Eock." 
 
A lAttU Jov/rney in the World. 29 
 
 " And was your religion founded on Plymouth 
 Eock?" 
 
 " My niece says so when I rally her on deserting 
 the faith of her fathers," replied Miss Forsythe, 
 laughing at the working of the Episcopalian mind. 
 
 " I should hke to understand about thfit ; I mean 
 about the position of Dissenters in America." 
 
 " I'm afraid I could not help you, Mr. Lyon. I 
 fancy an Englishman would have to be born again, 
 as the phrase used to be, to comprehend that." 
 
 While Mr. Lyon was stiU unsatisfied on this 
 point, he found the conversation shifted to the 
 other side. Perhaps it was a new experience to 
 him that women should lead and not follow in con- 
 versation. At any rate, it was an experience that 
 put him at his ease. Miss Forsythe was a great 
 admirer of Gladstone and of General Gordon, and 
 she expressed her admiration with a knowledge 
 that showed she had read the English newspapers. 
 
 " Yet I confess I don't comprehend Gladstone's 
 conduct with regard to Egypt and Gordon's relief," 
 she said. 
 
 " Perhaps," interposed my wife, " it would have 
 been better for Gordon if he had trusted Provi- 
 dence more and Gladstone less." 
 
 " I suppose it was Gladstone's humanity that 
 made him hesitate." 
 
 "To bombard Alexandria?" asked Mr. Lyon, 
 with a look of asperity. 
 
30 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 "That was a mistake to be expected of a Tory, 
 but not of Mr. Gladstone, who seems always seek- 
 ing the broadest principles of justice in his states- 
 manship." 
 
 " Yes, we regard Mr. Gladstone as a very great 
 man, Miss Forsythe. He is broad enough. You 
 know we consider him a rhetorical phenomenon. 
 Unfortunately he always 'muffs' anything he 
 touches." 
 
 "I suspected," Miss Forsythe replied, after a 
 moment, " that party spirit ran as high in England 
 as it does with us, and is as personal." 
 
 Mr. Lyon disclaimed any personal feeling, and 
 the talk drifted into a comparison of English and 
 American politics, mainly with reference to the so- 
 cial factor in English politics, which is so Little an 
 element here. 
 
 In the midst of the talk Margaret came in. The 
 brisk walk in the rosy twiUght had heightened her 
 color, and given her a glowing expression which 
 her face had not the night before, and a tenderness 
 and softness, an unworldliness, brought from the 
 quiet hour in the church. 
 
 "My lady comes at last, 
 Timid and stepping fast, 
 And hastening hither, 
 Her modest eyes downcast." 
 
 She greeted the stranger with a Puritan undemon- 
 
A Little Jov/rney in the World. 31 
 
 strativeness, and as if not exactly aware of his 
 presence. 
 
 " I should like to have gone to vespers if I had 
 known," said Mr. Lyon, after an embarrassing 
 pause. 
 
 " Yes ?" asked the girl, still abstractedly. " The 
 world seems in a vesper mood," she added, looking 
 out the west windows at the red sky and the even- 
 ing-star. 
 
 In truth Nature herself at the moment suggested 
 that talk was an impertinence. The callers rose 
 to go, with an exchange of neighborhood friendli- 
 ness and invitations. 
 
 " I had no idea," said Mr. Lyon, as they walked 
 homeward, " what the New "World was like." 
 
III. 
 
 Me. Lyon's invitation was for a -week. Before 
 the end of the week I was called to New York to 
 consult Mr. Henderson in regard to a railway in- 
 vestment in the "West, which was turning out more 
 permanent than profitable. Eodney Henderson — 
 the name later became very f amihar to the public 
 in connection with a certain Congressional investi- 
 gation — was a graduate of my own college, a New 
 Hampshire boy, a lawyer by profession, who prac- 
 tised, as so many American lawyers do, in Wall 
 Street, in political combinations, in "Washington, in 
 railways. He was already known as a rising man. 
 
 "When I returned, Mr. Lyon was still at our 
 house. I understood that my wife had persuaded 
 him to extend his visit — a proposal he was little 
 reluctant to fall in with, so interested had he be- 
 come in studying social life in America. I could 
 well comprehend this, for we are all making a 
 "study" of something in this age, simple enjoy- 
 ment being considered an unworthy motive. I 
 was glad to see that the young Enghshinan was 
 improving himself, broadening his knowledge of 
 life, and not wasting the golden hours of youth. 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 33 
 
 Experience is what we all need, and though love 
 or love-making cannot be called a novelty, there is 
 something quite fresh about the study of it in the 
 modern spirit. 
 
 Mr. Lyon had made himself very agreeable to 
 the little circle, not less by his inquiring spirit than 
 by his unaffected manners, by a kind of simplicity 
 which women recognize as unconscious, the result 
 of an inherited habit of not thinking about one's 
 position. In excess it may be very disagreeable, 
 but when it is combined with genuine good-nature 
 and no self-assertion, it is attractive. And al- 
 though American women like a man who is ag- 
 gressive towards the world and combative, there 
 is the delight of novelty in one who has leisure to 
 be agreeable, leisure for them, and who seems to 
 their imagination to have a larger range in life 
 than those who are driven by business — one able 
 to offer the peace and security of something at- 
 tained. 
 
 There had been several little neighborhood en- 
 tertainments, dinners at the Morgans' and at Mrs. 
 Fletcher's, and an evening cup of tea at Miss For- 
 sythe's. In fact Margaret and Mr. Lyon had been 
 thrown much together. He had accompanied her 
 to vespers, and they had taken a w^intry walk or 
 two together before the snow came. My wife had 
 not managed it — she assured me of that ; but she 
 had not felt authorized to interfere ; and she had 
 3 
 
34 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 visited the public library and looked into tho Brit- 
 isli Peerage. Men were so suspicious. Margaret 
 was quite able to take care of herself. I admitted 
 that, but I suggested that the Englishman was a 
 stranger in a strange land, that he was far from 
 home, and had perhaps a weakened sense of those 
 powerful social influences which must, after all, 
 ■control him in the end. The only response to this 
 was, "I think, dear, you'd better wrap him up in 
 cotton and send him bade to his famil}-." 
 
 Among her other activities Margaret was inter- 
 ested i a mission school in the city, to which she 
 devoted an occasional evening and Sunday after- 
 noons. This was a new surprise for Mr. Lyon. 
 Was this also a part of the restlessness of Ameri- 
 can life ? At Mrs. Howe's german the other even- 
 ing the girl had seemed wholly absorbed in dress, 
 and the gayety of the serious formality of the oc- 
 casion, feeling the responsibility of it scarcely less 
 than the "leader." Yet her mind was evidently 
 much occupied with the "condition of women," 
 and she taught in a public school. He could not 
 at all make it out. "Was she any more serious 
 about the german than about the mission school? 
 It seemed odd at her age to take life so seriously. 
 And was she serious in all her various occupa- 
 tions, or only experimenting ? There was a certain 
 mocking humor in the girl that puzzled the Eng- 
 lishman still more. 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 35 
 
 " I have not seen much of your life," he said one 
 night to Mr. Morgan ; " but aren't most American 
 women a little restless, seeking an occupation ?" 
 
 " Perhaps they have that appearance ; but about 
 the same number find it, as formerly, in mar- 
 riage." 
 
 " But I mean, you know, do they look to mar- 
 riage as an end so much ?" 
 
 " I don't know that they ever did look to mar- 
 riage as anything but a means." 
 
 " I can tell you, Mr. Lyon," my wife interrupt- 
 ed, " you will get no information out of' Ir. Mor- 
 gan ; he is a scoffer." 
 
 " ITot at all, I do assure you," Morgan rephed. 
 " I am just a humble observer. I see that there is 
 a change going on, but I cannot comprehend it. 
 When I was young, girls used to go in for society ; 
 they danced their feet off from seventeen to twen- 
 ty-one. I never heard anything about any occu- 
 pation ; they had their swing and their fling, and 
 their flirtations; they appeared to be skimming 
 off of those impressionable, joyous years the cream 
 of Ufe." 
 
 " And you think that fitted them for the serious- 
 ness of life ?" asked his wife. 
 
 " Well, I am under the impression that very good 
 women came out of that society. I got one out of 
 that dancing crowd who has been serious enough 
 for me." 
 
36 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 " And little enough you have profited by it," said 
 Mrs. Morgan. 
 
 "I'm content. But probably I'm old-fashioned. 
 There is quite another spirit now. Girls out of 
 pinafores must begin seriously to consider some 
 calling. AU their flirtation from seventeen to 
 twenty-one is with some occupation. All their , 
 dancing days they must go to college, or in some 
 way lay the foundation for a useful life. I suppose 
 it's aU right. No doubt we shall have a much 
 higher style of Avomen in the future than we ever 
 had in the past." 
 
 " You allow nothing," said Mrs. Fletcher, " for 
 the necessity of earning a hving in these days of 
 competition. "Women never will come to their 
 proper position in the world, even as compan- 
 ions of men, which you regard as their highest 
 office, until they have the ability to be self-sup- 
 porting." 
 
 " Oh, I admitted the fact of the independence of 
 women a long time ago. Every one does that be- 
 fore he comes to middle life. About the shifting 
 all round of this burden of earning a living, I am 
 not so sure. It does not appear yet to make com- 
 petition any less ; perhaps competition would dis- 
 appear if everybody did earn his own living and 
 no more. I wonder, by-the-way, if the girls, the 
 young women, of the class we seem to be discuss- 
 ing ever do earn as much as would pay the wages 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 3T 
 
 of the servants who are hired to do the house- 
 work in their places ?" 
 
 " That is a most ignoble suggestion," I could not 
 help saying, "when you know that the object in 
 modem life is the cultivation of the mind, the ele- 
 vation of women, and men also, in intellectual life." 
 
 " I suppose so. I should like to have asked Abi- 
 gail Adams's opinion on the way to do it." 
 
 "One would think," I said, "that you didn't 
 know that the spinning -jenny and the stocking- 
 knitter had been invented. Given these, the wom- 
 en's college was a matter of course." 
 
 " Oh, I'm a believer in all kinds of machinery — 
 anything to save labor. Only, I have faith that 
 neither the jenny nor the college will change hu- 
 man nature, nor take the romance out of life." 
 
 " So have I," said my wife. " I've heard two 
 things affirmed : that women who receive a scien- 
 tific or professional education lose their faith, be- 
 come usually agnostics, having lost sensitiveness to 
 the mysteries of life." 
 
 " And you think, therefore, that they should not 
 have a scientific education ?" 
 
 " IS'o, unless all scientific prying into things is a 
 mistake. Women may be more likely at first to 
 be upset than men, but they will recover their bal- 
 ance when the novelty is worn oflf. No amount of 
 science wiU entirely change their emotional nat- 
 ure ; and besides, with all our science, I don't see 
 
38 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 that the supernatural has any less hold on tMs 
 generation than on the former." 
 
 " Yes, and you might say the world was never 
 before so credulous as it is now. But what was 
 the other thing ?" 
 
 " Why, that co-education is likely to diminish 
 marriages among the co-educated. Daily familiar- 
 ity in the class-room at the most impressionable 
 age, revelation of all the intellectual weaknesses 
 and petulances, absorption of mental routine on an 
 equality, tend to destroy the sense of romance and 
 mystery that are the most powerful attractions be- 
 tween the sexes. It is a sort of disenchanting fa- 
 miliarity that rubs off the bloom." 
 
 " Have you any statistics on the subject?" 
 
 " ISTo. I fancy it is only a notion of some old 
 fogy who thinks education in any form is danger- 
 ous for women." 
 
 " Yes, and I fancy that co-education will have 
 about as much effect on life generally as that sol- 
 emn meeting of a society of intelligent and fash- 
 ionable women recently in one of our great cities, 
 who met to discuss the advisability of limiting 
 population." 
 
 " G-reat Scott !" I exclaimed, " this is an interest- 
 ing age." 
 
 I was less anxious about the vagaries of it when 
 I saw the very old-fashioned way in which the in- 
 ternational drama was going on in our neighbor- 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 39 
 
 hood. Mr. Lyon was increasingly interested in 
 Margaret's mission work. Nor was there much 
 affectation in this. Philanthropy, anxiety about 
 the working-classes, is nowhere more serious or in 
 the fashion than it is in London. Mr. Lyon, wher- 
 ever he had been, had made a special study of the 
 various aid and relief societies, especially of the 
 work for young waifs and strays. 
 
 One Sunday afternoon they were returning from 
 the Bloom Street Mission. Snow covered the 
 ground, the sky was leaden, and the air had a pen- 
 etrating chill in it far more disagreeable than ex- 
 treme cold. 
 
 " "We also," Mr. Lyon was saying, in continuation 
 of a conversation, " are making a great effort for 
 the common people." 
 
 " But we haven't any common people here," re- 
 plied Margaret, quickly. "That bright boy you 
 noticed in my class, wtio was a terror six months 
 ago, will no doubt be in the City Council in a few 
 years, and likely enough mayor." 
 
 " Oh, I know your theory. It practically comes 
 to the same thing, whatever you call it. I couldn't 
 see that the work in New York differed much from 
 that in London. "We who have leisure ought to do 
 something for the working-classes." 
 
 " I sometimes doubt if it is not all a mistake — 
 most of our charitable work. The thing is to_ get 
 people to do something for themselves." 
 
40 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 " But you cannot do away with distinctions ?" 
 
 " I suppose not, so long as so many people are 
 born vicious, or incompetent, or lazy. But, Mr. 
 Lyon, how much good do you suppose condescend- 
 ing charity does ?" asked Margaret, firing up in a 
 way the girl had at times. " I mean the sort that 
 makes the distinctions more evident. The very 
 fact that you have leisure to meddle in their affairs 
 may be an annoyance to the folks you try to help 
 by the little palliatives of charity. "What effect 
 upon a wretched city neighborhood do you suppose 
 is produced by the advent in it of a stylish carriage 
 and a lady in silk, or even the coming of a well- 
 dressed, prosperous woman in a horse-car, however 
 gentle and unassuming she may be in this distribu- 
 tion of sympathy and bounty? Isn't the feeling 
 of inequality intensified ? And the degrading part 
 of it may be that so many are willing to accept 
 this sort of bounty. And .your men of leisure, 
 your club men, sitting in the windows and seeing 
 the world go by as a spectacle — men who never 
 did an hour's necessary work in their lives — what 
 effect do you suppose the sight of them has upon 
 men out of work, perhaps by their own fault, owing 
 to the same disposition to be idle that the men in 
 the club windows have ?" 
 
 " And do you think it would be any better if all 
 were poor alike ?" 
 
 " I think it would be better if there were no idle 
 
A Idttle Journey in the World. 41 
 
 people. I'm half ashamed that I have leisure to 
 go every time I go to that mission. And I'm al- 
 most sorry, Mr. Lyon, that I took you there. The 
 boys knew you were English. One of them asked 
 me if you were a ' lord ' or a ' juke ' or something. 
 I cannot tell how they will take it. They may re- 
 sent the spying into their world of an ' English 
 juke,' and they may take it in the light of a show." 
 
 Mr. Lyon laughed. And then, perhaps after a 
 little reflection upon the possibihty that the nobil- 
 ity was becoming a show in this world, he said : 
 
 "I begin to think I'm very unfortunate. Miss 
 Debree. You seem to remind me that I am in a 
 position in which I can do very little to help the 
 world along." 
 
 " Not at all. You can do very much." 
 
 "But how, when whatever I attempt is consid- 
 ered a condescension ? What can I do ?" 
 
 "Pardon me," and Margaret turned her eyes 
 frankly upon him. " You can be a good earl when 
 your time comes." 
 
 Their way lay through the little city park. It 
 is a pretty place in summer — a varied surface, well 
 planted with forest and ornamental trees, intersect- 
 ed by a winding stream. The little river was fuU 
 now, and ice had formed on it, with smaU openings 
 here and there, where the dark water, hurrying 
 along as if in fear of arrest, had a more chilling as- 
 pect than the icy cover. The ground was white 
 
42 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 with snow, and all the trees were bare except for 
 a few frozen oak-leaves here and there, which shiv- 
 ered in the wind and somehow added to the deso- 
 lation. Leaden clouds covered the sky, and only 
 in the west was there a gleam of . the departing 
 winter day. 
 
 Upon the elevated bank of the stream, opposite 
 to the road by which they approached, they saw a 
 group of people — perhaps twenty — drawn closely 
 together, either in the sympathy of segregation 
 from an unfeeling world, or for protection from the 
 keen wind. On the hither bank, and leaning on 
 the rails of the drive, had collected a motley crowd 
 of spectators, men, women, and boys, who exhibit- 
 ed some impatience and much curiosity, decorous 
 for the most part, but emphasized by occasional 
 jocose remarks in an undertone. A serious cere- 
 mony was evidently in progress. The separate 
 group had not a prosperous air. The women were 
 thinly clad for such a day. Conspicuous in the 
 little assembly was a tall, elderly man in a shabby 
 long coat and a broad felt hat, from under which 
 his whitfe hair fell upon his shoulders. He might 
 be a prophet in Israel come out to testify to an un- 
 believing world, and the little group around him, 
 shaken like reeds in the wind, had the appearance 
 -of martyrs to a cause. The light of another world 
 shone in their thin, patient faces. Come, they 
 seemed to say to the worldlings on the opposite 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 43 
 
 bank — come and see what happiness it is to serve 
 the Lord. As they waited, a faint tune was start- 
 ed, a quavering hymn, whose feeble notes the wind 
 blew away at first, but which grew stronger. 
 
 Before the first stanza was finished a carriage 
 appeared in the rear of the group. From it de- 
 scended a middle-aged man and a stout woman, 
 and they together helped a young girl to alight. 
 She was clad all in white. For a moment her 
 thin, delicate figure shrank from the cutting wind. 
 Timid, nervous, she glanced an instant at the crowd 
 and the dark icy stream ; but it was only a protest 
 of the poor body ; the face had the rapt, exultant 
 look of joyous sacrifice. 
 
 The tall man advanced to meet her, and led her 
 into the midst of the group. 
 
 For a few moments there was prayer, inaudible 
 at a distance. .Then the tall man, taking the girl 
 by the hand, advanced down the slope to the 
 stream. His hat was laid aside, his venerable 
 locks streamed in the breeze, his eyes were turned 
 to heaven ; the girl walked as in a vision, without 
 a tremor, her wide-opened eyes fixed upon" invisible 
 things. 
 
 As they moved on, the group behind set up a 
 joyful hymn in a kind of mournful chant, in which 
 the tall man joined with a strident voice. Fitfully 
 the words came on the wind, in an almost heart- 
 breaking wail : 
 
44 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 "Beyond the smiling and the weeping 
 
 I shall be soon; 
 Beyond the waking and the sleeping. 
 Beyond the sowing and the reaping, 
 
 I shall be soon." 
 
 They were near the water now, and the tall man's 
 voice sounded out loud and clear : 
 
 "Lord, tarry not, but come!" 
 
 They were entering the stream where there was 
 an opening clear of ice ; the footing was not very 
 secure, and the tall man ceased singing, but the 
 little band sang on : 
 
 "Beyond the blooming and the fading 
 I shall be soon." 
 
 The girl grew paler and shuddered. The tall man 
 sustained her with an attitude of infinite sympathy, 
 and seemed to speak words of encouragement. 
 They were in the mid-stream ; the cold flood surged 
 about their waists. The group sang on : 
 
 "Beyond the shining and the shading, 
 Beyond the hoping and the dreading, 
 I shall be soon." 
 
 The strong, tender arms of the tall man gently 
 lowered the white form under the cruel water ; he 
 staggered a moment in the swift stream, recovered 
 himself, raised her, white as death, and the voices 
 of the wailing tune came — 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 45 
 
 "Love, rest, and home — 
 Sweet hope! Lord, tarry not, but come!" 
 
 And the tall man, as he struggled to the shore with 
 
 his almost insensible burden, could be heard above 
 
 the other voices and the wind and the rush of the 
 
 waters — 
 
 "Lord, tarry not, but come!" 
 
 The girl was hurried into the carriage, and the 
 group quickly dispersed. " Well, I'll be — " The 
 tender-hearted little wife of the rough man in the 
 crowd who began that sentence did not permit him 
 to finish it. " That'll be a case for a doctor right 
 away," remarked a well-known practitioner who 
 had been looking on. 
 
 Margaret and Mr. Lyon walked home in silence. 
 " I can't talk about it," she said. " It's such a pit- 
 iful world." 
 
IV. 
 
 In the evening, at our house, Margaret described 
 the scene in the park. 
 
 " It's dreadful," was the comment of Miss For- 
 sythe. " The authorities ought not to permit such 
 a thing." 
 
 "It seemed to me as heroic as pitiful, aunt. I 
 fear I should be incapable of making such a testi- 
 mony." 
 
 " But it was so unnecessary." 
 
 " How do we know what is necessary to any 
 poor soul? "What impressed me most strongly 
 was that there is in the ^vo^ld still this longing 
 to suffer physically and endure public scorn for a 
 belief." 
 
 " It may have been a disappointment to the lit- 
 tle band," said Mr. Morgan, " that there was no 
 demonstration from the spectators, that there was 
 no loud jeering, that no snowballs were thrown by 
 the boys." 
 
 "They could hardly expect that," said I; "the 
 world has become so tolerant that it doesn't care." 
 
 " I rather think," Margaret replied, " that the 
 spectators for a moment came under the spell of 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 47 
 
 the hour, and were awed by something supernat- 
 ural in the endurance of that frail girl." 
 
 "iNo doubt," said my wife, after a little pause. 
 " I believe that there is as much sense of mystery 
 in the world as ever, and as much of what we call 
 faith, only it shows itself eccentrically. Breaking 
 away from traditions and not going to church have 
 not destroyed the need in the minds of the mass 
 of people for something outside themselves." 
 
 " Did I teU you," interposed Morgan — " it is al- 
 most in the line of your thought — of a girl I met 
 the other day on the train ? I happened to be her 
 seat-mate in the car — thin face, slight Uttle figure 
 — a commonplace girl, whom I took at first to be 
 not more than twenty, but from the lines about 
 her large eyes she was probably nearer forty. She 
 had in her lap a book^ which she conned from time 
 to time, and seemed to be committing verses to 
 memory as she looked out the window. At last I 
 ventured to ask what hterature it was that inter- 
 ested her so much, when she turned and frankly 
 entered into conversation. It was a little Advent 
 song-book. She liked to read it on the train, and 
 hum over the tunes. Yes, she was a good deal on 
 the cars ; early every morning she rode thirty miles 
 to her work, and thirty miles back every evening. 
 Her work was that of clerk and copyist in a 
 freight office, and she earned nine dollars a week, 
 on which she supported herself and her mother. 
 
48 A 'Little Journey in the World. 
 
 It was hard work, but she did not mind it much. 
 Her mother was quite feeble. She was an Ad 
 ventist. ' And you V I asked. ' Oh yes, I am. I've 
 been an Adventist twenty years, and I've been 
 perfectly happy ever since I Joined — ^perfectly,' she 
 added, turning her plain face, now radiant, towards 
 me. ' Are you one ?' she asked, presently. ' Not 
 an immediate Adventist,' I was obliged to confess. 
 ' I thought you might be, there are so many now, 
 more and more.' I learned that in our httle city 
 There were two Advent societies ; there had been 
 a split on account of some difference in the mean- 
 ing of original sin. ' And you are not discouraged 
 by the repeated failure of the predictions of the 
 end of the world?' I asked. 'No. "Why should 
 we be ? "We don't fix any certain day now, but all 
 the signs show that it is very near. We are all 
 free to think as we like. Most of our members 
 now think it wiU be next year.' ' I hope not !' I 
 exclaimed. ' "Why V she asked, turning to me with 
 a look of surprise. 'Are you afraid?' I evaded 
 by saying that I supposed the good had nothing to 
 fear. ' Then you must be an Adventist, you have 
 so much sympathy.' ' I shouldn't Like to have the 
 world come to an end next year, because there are 
 so many interesting problems, and I want to see 
 how they wiU be worked out.' 'How can you 
 want to put it off' — and there was for the first 
 time a little note of fanaticism in her voice — ' when 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 49 
 
 there is so mucli poverty and hard work? It is 
 such a hard world, and so much suffering and sin. 
 And it could all be ended in a moment. How can 
 you want it to go on V The train approached the 
 station, and she rose to say good-bye. ' You Avill 
 see the truth some day,' she said, and went away 
 as cheerful as if the world was actually destroyed. 
 She was the happiest woman I have seen in a long 
 time." 
 
 " Yes," I said, " it is an age of both faith and 
 credulity." 
 
 " And nothing marks it more," Morgan added, 
 " than the popular expectation among the scientific 
 and the ignorant of something to come out of the 
 dimly understood relation of body and mind. It 
 is like the expectation of the possibilities of elec- 
 tricity." 
 
 "I was going on to say," I continued, "that 
 wherever I walk in the city of a Sunday afternoon, 
 I am struck with the number of little meetings 
 going on, of the faithful and the unfaithful, Ad- 
 ventists, socialists, spiritualists, culturists. Sons and 
 Daughters of Edom ; from all the open windows 
 of the tall buildings come notes of praying, of ex- 
 hortation, the melancholy wail of the inspiring 
 Sankey tunes, total abstinence melodies, over-the- 
 river melodies, songs of entreaty, and songs of 
 praise. There is so much going on outside of the 
 regular churches !" 
 4 
 
50 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 " But the churches are well attended," suggested 
 my wife. 
 
 " Yes, fairly, at least once a day, and if there is 
 sensational preaching, twice. But there is nothing 
 that will so pack the biggest hall in the city as the 
 announcement of inspirational preaching by some 
 young woman who speaks at random on a text 
 given her when she steps upon the platform. 
 There is something in her rhapsody, even when it 
 is incoherent, that appeals to a prevailing spirit." 
 
 " How much of it is curiosity ?" Morgan asked. 
 " Isn't the haU just as jammed when the clever at- 
 torney of ISTothingism, Ham Saversoul, jokes about 
 the mysteries of this life and the next ?" 
 
 " Very Ukely. People like the emotional and 
 the amusing. All the same, they are credulous, 
 and entertain doubt and belief on the slightest evi- 
 dence." 
 
 " Isn't it natural," spoke up Mr. Lyon, who had 
 hitherto been silent, " that you should drift into 
 this condition without an established church ?" 
 
 " Perhaps it's natural," Morgan retorted, " that 
 people dissatisfied with an established religion 
 should drift over here. Great Britain, you know, 
 is a famous recruiting-ground for our socialistic ex- 
 periments." 
 
 "Ah, well," said my wife, "men will have some- 
 thing. If what is established repels to the extent 
 of getting itself disestablished, and all churches 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 51 
 
 should be broken up, society would somehow pre- 
 cipitate itself again spiritually. I heard the other 
 day that Boston, getting a little weary of the 
 Vedas, was beginning to take up the New Testa- 
 ment." 
 
 " Yes," said Morgan, " since Tolstoi mentioned it." 
 
 After a little the talk drifted into psychic re- 
 search, and got lost in stories of "appearances" 
 and " long-distance " communications. It appeared 
 to me that intelligent people accepted this sort of 
 story as true on evidence on which they wouldn't 
 risk five dollars if it were a question of money. 
 Even scientists swallow tales of prehistoric bones 
 on testimony they would reject if it involved the 
 title to a piece of real estate. 
 
 Mr. Lyon still lingered in the lap of a New Eng- 
 land winter as if it had been Capua. He was anx- 
 ious to visit "Washington and study the politics of 
 the country, and see the sort of society produced 
 in the freedom of a republic, where there was no 
 court to give the tone and there were no class lines 
 to determine position. He was restless under this 
 sense of duty. The future legislator for the Brit- 
 ish Empire must understand the Constitution of its 
 great rival, and thus be able to appreciate the so- 
 cial currents that have so much to do with politi- 
 cal action. 
 
 In fact he had another reason for uneasiness. 
 His mother had written him, asking why he stayed 
 
62 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 so long in an unimportant city, lie who had been 
 so active a traveller hitherto. Knowledge of the 
 capitals was what he needed. Agreeable people he 
 could find at home, if his only object was to pass 
 the time. "What could he .reply ? Could he say 
 that he had become very much interested in study- 
 ing a school-teacher — a very charming school- 
 teacher? He could see the vision raised in the 
 minds of his mother and of the earl and of his 
 elder sister as they should read this precious con- 
 fession — a vision of a school-ma'am, of an Ameri- 
 can girl, and an American girl without any money 
 at that, moving in the little orbit of Chisholm 
 House. The thing was absurd. And yet why 
 was it absurd ? What was English politics, what 
 was Chishohn House, what was everybody in Eng- 
 land compared to this noble girl? Nay, what 
 would the world be without her? He grew hot 
 in thinking of it, indignant at his relations and the 
 whole artificial framework of things. 
 
 The situation was almost humiliating. He be- 
 gan to doubt the stability of his own position. 
 Hitherto he had met no obstacle : whatever he had 
 desired he had obtained. He was a sensible fel- 
 low, and knew the world was not made for him ; 
 but it certainly had yielded to him in everything. 
 "Why did he doubt now? That he did doubt 
 showed him the intensity of his interest in Mar- 
 garet. For love is humble, and undervalues self in 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 53 
 
 contrast "with that "which it desires. At this toucli- 
 stone rank, fortune, all that go "with them, seemed 
 poor. What "were all these to a "woman's soul? 
 But there "were "women enough, women enough in 
 England, "women more beautiful than Margaret, 
 doubtless as amiable and intellectual. Yet now 
 there "was for him only one "woman in the "world. 
 And Margaret showed no sign. "Was he about to 
 make a fool of himself ? If she should reject him 
 he would seem a fool to himself. If she accepted 
 him he would seem a fool to the whole circle that 
 made his world at home. The situation was intol- 
 erable. He would end it by going. 
 
 But he did not go. If he went to-day he could 
 not see her to-morrow. To a lover anything can 
 be borne if he knows that he shall see her to-mor- 
 row. In short, he could not go so long as there 
 was any doubt about her disposition towards him. 
 
 And a man is stiU reduced to this in the latter 
 part of the nineteenth century, notwithstanding all 
 our science, all our analysis of the passion, all our 
 wise jabber about the failure of marriage, all our 
 common -sense about the relation of the sexes. 
 Love is still a personal question, not to be reasoned 
 about or in any way disposed of except in the old 
 way. Maidens dream about it ; diplomats yield to 
 it ; stolid men are upset by it ; the aged become 
 young, the young grave, under its influence ; the 
 student loses his appetite — God bless him ! I Kke 
 
54: A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 to hear the young fellows at the club rattle on 
 bravely, indifferent to the whole thing — sceptical, 
 in fact, about it. And then to see them, one after 
 another, stricken down, and looking a little sheep- 
 ish and not saying much, and by-and-by radiant. 
 You would think they owned the world. Heaven, 
 I think, shows us no finer sarcasm than one of 
 these young sceptics as a meek family man. 
 
 Margaret and Mr. Lyon were much together. 
 And their talk, as always happens when two per- 
 sons find themselves much together, became more 
 and more personal. It is only in books that dia- 
 logues are abstract and impersonal. The English^ 
 man told her about his family, about the set in 
 which he moved — and he had the English frank- 
 ness in setting it out unreservedly — about the life 
 he led at Oxford, about his travels, and so on to 
 what he meant to do in the world. Margaret in 
 return had httle to tell, her own life had been so 
 simple — not much except the maidenly reserves, 
 the discontents with herself, which interested him 
 more than anything else ; and of the future she 
 would not speak at all. How can a woman, with- 
 out being misunderstood ? All this talk had a cer- 
 tain danger in it, for sympathy is unavoidable be- 
 tween two persons who look ever so little into each 
 other's hearts and compare tastes and desires. 
 
 " I cannot quite understand your social life over 
 here," Mr. Lyon was saying one day. " You seem 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 55 
 
 to make distinctions, but I cannot see exactly for 
 what." 
 
 "Perhaps they make themselves. Your social 
 orders seem able to resist Darwin's theory, but in 
 a republic natural selection has a better chance." 
 
 " I was told by a Bohemian on the steamer com- 
 ing over that money in America takes the place of 
 rank in England." 
 
 " That isn't quite true." 
 
 " And I was told in Boston by an acquaintance 
 of very old family and little fortune that ' blood ' 
 is considered here as much as anywhere." 
 
 " You see, Mr. Lyon, how difficult it is to get 
 Correct information about us. I think we wor- 
 ship wealth a good deal, and we worship family a 
 good deal, but if any one presumes too much upon 
 either, he is likely to come to grief. I don't under- 
 stand it very well myself." 
 
 " Then it is not money that determines social po- 
 sition in America ?" 
 
 " Not altogether ; but more now than formerly. 
 I suppose the distinction is this : family will take 
 a person everywhere, money will take him almost 
 everywhere ; but money is always at this disadvan- 
 tage — it takes more and more of it to gain posi- 
 tion. And then you will find that it is a good deal 
 a matter of locality. For instance, in "Virginia and 
 Kentucky family is still very powerful, stronger 
 than any distinction in letters or politics or success 
 
56 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 in business ; and there is a certain dimi'Tishing 
 number of people in New York, Philadelphia, Bos- 
 ton, who cultivate a good deal of exclusiveness on 
 account of descent." 
 
 " But I am told that this sort of aristocracy is 
 succumbing to the new plutocracy." 
 
 " Well, it is more and more difficult to maintain 
 a position without money. Mr. Morgan says that 
 it is a disheartening thing to be an aristocrat with- 
 out luxury ; he declares that he cannot tell wheth- 
 er the Knickerbockers of ISTew York or the pluto- 
 crats are more uneasy just now. The one is hungry 
 for social position, and is morose if he cannot buy 
 it ; and when the other is • seduced by luxury and 
 yields, he finds that his distinction is gone. For in 
 his heart the newly rich only respects the rich. A 
 story went about of one of the Bonanza princes 
 who had built his palace in the city, and was 
 sending out invitations to his first entertainment. 
 Somebody suggested doubts to him about the re- 
 sponse. ' Oh,' he said, ' the beggars will be glad 
 enough to come !' I suppose, Mr. Lyon," said Mar- 
 garet, demurely, "that this sort of thing is un- 
 known in England ?" 
 
 " Oh, I couldn't say that money is not run after 
 there to some extent." 
 
 " I saw a picture in Punch of an auction, intend- 
 ed as an awful satire on American women. It 
 struck me that it might have two interpretations." 
 
A Little Journey in the World,. 57 
 
 " Yes, Punch is as friendly to America as it is to 
 the English aristocracy." 
 
 " Well, I was only thinking that it is just an ex- 
 change of commodities. People will always give 
 what they have for what they want. The Western 
 man changes his pork in l^Qy^ York for pictures. 
 I suppose that — what do you call it ? — the balance 
 of trade is against us, and we have to send over 
 cash and beauty." 
 
 " I didn't know that Miss Debree was so much of 
 a political economist." 
 
 "We got that out of books in school. An- 
 other thing we learned is that England wants' raw 
 material ; I thought I. might as well say it, for it 
 wouldn't be polite for you." 
 
 " Oh, I'm capable of saying anything, if pro- 
 voked. But we have got away from the point. 
 As far as I can see, all sorts of people intermarry, 
 and I don't see how you can discriminate socially 
 — where the lines are." 
 
 Mr. Lyon saw the moment that he had made it 
 that this was a suggestion little likely to help him. 
 And Margaret's reply showed that he had lost 
 ground. 
 
 " Oh, we do not try to discriminate — except as 
 to foreigners. There is a popular notion that 
 Americans had better marry at home." 
 
 " Then the best way for a foreigner to break 
 your exclusiveness is to be naturalized." Mr. Lyon 
 
58 A Little Journey im, the World. 
 
 tried 'to adopt her tone, and added, " Would you 
 like to see me an American citizen ?" 
 
 " I don't believe you could be, except for a little 
 while ; you are too British." 
 
 " But the two nations are practically the same ; 
 that is, individuals of the nations are. Don't you 
 think so ?" 
 
 " Yes, if one of them gives up all the habits and 
 prejudices of a lifetime and of a whole social con- 
 dition to the other." 
 
 " And which would have to yield ?" 
 
 " Oh, the man, of course. It has always been so. 
 My great-great-grandfather was a Frenchman, but 
 he became, I have always heard, the most docile 
 American republican." 
 
 " Do you think he would have been the one to 
 give in if they had gone to France ?" 
 
 "Perhaps not. And then the marriage would 
 have been unhappy. Did you never take notice 
 that a woman's happiness, and consequently the 
 happiness of marriage, depends upon a woman's 
 having her own way in all social matters? Be- 
 fore our war all the men who married down South 
 took the Southern view, and all the Southern 
 women who married up North held their own, 
 and sensibly controlled the sympathies of their 
 husbands." 
 
 " And how was it with the Northern women 
 who married South, as you say ?" 
 
A Idttle Journey in the World. 59 
 
 " Well, it must be confessed that a good many of 
 them adapted themselves, in appearance at least. 
 Women can do that, and never let any one see 
 they are not happy and not doing it from choice." 
 
 "■And don't you think American women adapt 
 themselves happily to English life ?" 
 
 " Doubtless some ; I doubt if many do ; but 
 women do not confess mistakes of that kind. 
 Woman's happiness depends so much upon the 
 continuation of the surroundings and sympathies 
 in which she is bred. There are always excep- 
 tions. Do you know, Mr. Lyon, it seems to me 
 that some people do not belong in the country 
 where they were born. We have men who ought 
 to have been born in England, and who only find 
 themselves really at ease and suited when they go 
 there. There are some women hke them, who are 
 ambitious, and court a career different from any 
 that a republic can give them. They are not satis- 
 fied here. Whether they are happy there I do not 
 know ; so few trees, when at all grown, will bear 
 transplanting." 
 
 '" Then you think international marriages are a 
 mistake ?" 
 
 " Oh, I don't theorize on subjects I am ignorant 
 of." 
 
 " You give me very cold comfort." 
 
 "I didn't know," said Margaret, with a laugh 
 that was too genuine to be consoling, "that you 
 
60 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 were travelling for comfort ; I thought it was for 
 information." 
 
 "And I am getting a great deal," said Mr. Lyon, 
 rather ruefully. " I'm trying to find out where I 
 ought to have been born." 
 
 "I'm not sure," Margaret said, half seriously, 
 " but you would have been a very good American." 
 
 This was not much of an admission, after all, but 
 it was the most that Margaret had ever made, and 
 Mr. Lyon tried to get some encouragement out of 
 it. But he felt, as any man would feel, that this 
 beating about the bush, this talk of nationality and 
 all that, was nonsense ; that if a Avoman loved a 
 man she wouldn't care where he was born; that 
 all the world would be as nothing to him ; that all 
 conditions and obstacles society and family could 
 raise would melt away in the glow of a real pas- 
 sion. And he wondered for a moment if American 
 girls were not " calculating " — a word to which he 
 had learned over here to attach a new and comiccil 
 meaning. 
 
T. 
 
 The afternoon after this conversation Miss For- 
 sythe was sitting reading in her favorite window- 
 seat, when Mr. Lyon was announced. Margaret 
 was at her school. There was nothing unusual in 
 this afternoon call ; Mr. Lyon's visits had become 
 frequent and informal; but, Miss Forsythe had a 
 nervous presentiment that something important 
 was to happen, that showed itself in her greeting, 
 and which was perhaps caught from a certain new 
 diffidence in his manner. 
 
 Perhaps the maiden lady preserves more than 
 any other this sensitiveness, inborn in women, to 
 the approach of the critical moment in the aifairs 
 of the heart. The day may some time be past 
 when she is sensitive for herself — philosophers say 
 otherwise — but she is easily put in a flutter by the 
 affair of another. Perhaps this is because the neg- 
 ative (as we say in these days) which takes impres- 
 sions retains all its delicacy from the fact that none 
 of them have ever been developed, and perhaps it 
 is a wise provision of nature that age in a heart 
 unsatisfied should awaken lively apprehensive curi- 
 osity and sympathy about the manifestation of the 
 
62 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 tender passion in others. It certainly is a note of 
 the kindliness and charity of the maiden mind that 
 its sympathies are so apt to be most strongly ex- 
 cited in the success of the wooer. This interest 
 may be quite separable from the common feminine 
 desire to make a match whenever there is the least 
 chance of it. Miss Forsythe was not a match- 
 maker, but Margaret herself would not have been 
 more embarrassed than she was at the beginning 
 of this interview. 
 
 "When Mr. Lyon was seated she made the book 
 she had in her hand the excuse for beginning a 
 talk about the confidence yoUng novelists seem to 
 have in their ability to upset the Christian relig- 
 ion by a fictitious representation of life, but her 
 visitor was too preoccupied to join in it. He rose 
 and stood leaning his arm upon the mantle-piece, 
 and looking into the fire, and said, abruptly, at last : 
 
 " I called to see you, Miss Forsythe, to — to con- 
 sult you about your niece." 
 
 "About her career?" asked Miss Forsythe, with 
 a nervous consciousness of falsehood. 
 
 " Yes, about her career ; that is, in a way," turn^ 
 ing towards her with a Kttle smile. 
 
 "Yes?" 
 
 " You must have seen my interest in her. You 
 must have known why I stayed on and on. But 
 it was, it is, all so uncertain. I wanted to ask your 
 permission to speak my mind to her." 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 63 
 
 " Are you quite sure you know your own mind ?" 
 asked Miss Forsythe, defensively. 
 
 " Sure — sure ; I have never had the feeling for 
 any other woman I have for her." 
 
 " Margaret is a noble girl ; she is very indepen- 
 dent," suggested Miss Forsythe, still avoiding the 
 point. 
 
 " I know. I don't ask you her feeUng." Mr. 
 Lyon was standing quietly looking down into the 
 coals. " She is the only woman in the world to 
 me. I love her. Are you against me ?" he asked, 
 suddenly looking up, with a flush in his face. 
 
 " Oh no ! no !" exclaimed Miss Forsythe, with 
 another access of timidity. " I shouldn't take the 
 responsibility of being against you, or — or other- 
 wise. It is very manly in you to come to me, and 
 I am sure I — we all — wish nothing but your own 
 happiness. And so far as I am concerned — " 
 
 "Then I have your permission?" he asked, ea- 
 gerly. 
 
 " My permission, Mr. Lyon ? why, it is so new to 
 me, I scarcely realized that I had any permission," 
 she said, with a httle attempt at pleasantry. " But 
 as her aunt — and guardian, as one may say — per- 
 sonally I should have the greatest satisfaction to 
 know that Margaret's destiny was in the hands of 
 one we all esteem and know as we do you." 
 
 " Thank you, thank you," said Mr. Lyon, coming 
 forward and seizing her hand. 
 
6i A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 " Bu't you must let me say, let me suggest, that 
 there are a great many things to be thought of. 
 There is such a difference in education, in aU the 
 habits of your lives, in all your relations. Mar- 
 garet would never be happy in a position where 
 less was accorded to her than she had all her life. 
 Nor would her pride let her take such a position." 
 
 " But as my wife — " 
 
 "Yes, I know that is sufficient in your mind. 
 Have you consulted your mother, Mr. Lyon ?" 
 
 "Not yet." 
 
 "And have you written to any one at home 
 about my niece ?" 
 
 "Not yet." 
 
 "And does it seem a little difficult to do so?" 
 This was a probe that went even deeper than the 
 questioner knew. Mr. Lyon hesitated, seeing again 
 as in a vision the astonishment of his family. He 
 was conscious of an attempt at self-deception when 
 he rephed : 
 
 " Not difficult, not at aU difficult, but I thought 
 I would wait till I had something definite to say." 
 
 " Margaret is, of course, perfectly free to act for 
 herself. She has a very ardent nature, but at the 
 same time a great deal of what we call common- 
 sense. Though her heart might be very much en- 
 gaged, she would hesitate to put herself in any so- 
 ciety which thought itself superior to her. You 
 see I speak with great frankness." 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 65 
 
 It was a new position for Mr. Lyon to find his 
 prospective rank seemingly an obstacle to anything 
 he desired. For a moment the whimsicality of it 
 interrupted the current of his feeling. He thought 
 of the probable comments of the men of his London 
 club upon the drift his conversation was taking 
 with a New England spinster about his fitness to 
 marry, a school-teacher. With a smile that was 
 summoned to hide his annoyance, he said, " I don't 
 see how I can defend myself, Miss Forsythe." 
 
 " Oh," she replied, with an answering smile that 
 recognized his view of the humor of the situation, 
 " I was not thinking of you, Mr. Lyon, but of the 
 family and the society that my niece might enter, 
 to which rank is of the first importance." 
 
 " I am simply John Lyon, Miss Forsythe. I may 
 never be anything else. But if it were otherwise, I 
 did not suppose that Americans objected to rank." 
 
 It was an unfortunate speech, felt to be so the 
 instant it was uttered. Miss Forsythe's pride was 
 touched, and the remark was not softened to her 
 by the air of half banter with which the sentence 
 concluded. She said, with a. little stiffness and for- 
 mality : " I fear, Mr. Lyon, that your sarcasm is too 
 well merited. But there are Americans who make 
 a distinction between rank and blood. Perhaps it 
 is very undemocratic, but there is nowhere else 
 more pride of family, of honorable descent, than 
 here. We think very much of what we call good 
 5 
 
66 A LitUe Jov/rney in the World. 
 
 blood. And you will pardon me for snying that 
 we are accustomed to speak of some persons and 
 families abroad which have the highest rank as 
 being thoroughly bad blood. If I am not mis- 
 taken, you also recognize the historic fact of ig- 
 noble blood in the owners of noble titles. I only 
 mean, Mr. Lyon," she added, with a softening of 
 manner, "that all Americans do not think that 
 rank covers a multitude of sins." 
 
 " Yes, I think I get your American point of view. 
 But to return to myself, if you will aUow me, if I 
 am so fortunate as to win Miss Debree's love, I 
 have no fear that she would not win the hearts of 
 all my family. Do you think that my— my pro- 
 spective position would be an objection to her ?" 
 
 "Not your position, no, if her heart were en- 
 gaged. But expatriation, involving a surrender of 
 aU the habits and traditions and associations of a 
 lifetime and of one's kindred, is a serious affair. 
 One would need to be very much in love" — and 
 Miss Forsythe blushed a httle as she said it — "to 
 make such a surrender." 
 
 " I know. I am sure I love her too much to 
 wish to bring any change in her hfe that would 
 ever cause her unhappiness." 
 
 " I am glad to feel sure of that." 
 
 " And so I have your permission ?" 
 
 " Most sincerely," said Miss Forsythe, rising and 
 giving him her hand. " I could wish nothing bet- 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 67 
 
 ter for Margaret than union with a man like you. 
 But whatever I wish, you two have your destiny 
 in your own hands." Her tone was wholly frank 
 and cordial, but there was a wistful look in her 
 face, as of one who knew how roughly hfe handles 
 aU youthful enthusiasms. 
 
 When John Lyon walked away from her door 
 his feelings were very much mixed. .At one in- 
 stant his pride rebelled against the attitude he had 
 just assumed. But this was only a flash, which he 
 put away as unbecoming a man towards a true 
 woman. The next thought was one of unselfish 
 consideration for Margaret herself. He would not 
 subject her to any chance of social mortifications. 
 He would wait. He would return home and test 
 his love by renewing his life-long associations, and 
 by the reception his family would give to his pro- 
 posal. And the next moment he saw Margaret as 
 she had become to him, as she must always be to 
 him. Should he risk the loss of her by timidity ? 
 What were aU these paltry considerations to his 
 love? 
 
 Was there ever a young man who could see any 
 reasons against the possession of the woman he 
 loved ? Was there ever any love worth the name 
 that could be controlled by calculations of expedi- 
 ency ? I have no doubt that John Lyon went 
 through the usual process which is called weighing 
 a thing in the mind. It is generally an amusing 
 
68 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 process, and it is consoling to the conscience. The 
 mind has little to do with it except to furnish the 
 platform on which the scales are set up. A hu- 
 morist says that he must have a great deal of 
 mind, it takes him so long to make it up. There 
 is the same apparent deliberation where love is con- 
 cerned. Everything " contra " is carefully placed 
 in one scale of the balance, and it is always satis- 
 factory and convincing to see how quickly it kicks 
 the beam when love is placed in the other scale. 
 The lightest love in the world, under a law as in- 
 variable as gravitation, is heavier than any other 
 known consideration. It is perhaps doing injustice 
 to Mr. Lyon not to dwell upon this struggle in his 
 mind, and to say that in all honesty he may not 
 have known that the result of it was predetermin- 
 ed. But interesting and commendable as are these 
 processes of the mind, I confess that I should 
 have respected him less if the result had not been 
 predetermined. And this does not in any way 
 take from him the merit of a restless night and a 
 tasteless breakfast. 
 
 Philosophizers on this topic say that a man 
 ought always to be able to tell by a woman's de- 
 meanor towards him whether she is favorably in- 
 chned, and that he need run no risk. Little signs, 
 the eyes alone, draw people together, and make 
 formal language superfluous. This theory is abun- 
 dantly sustained by examples, and we might rest 
 
A Little Journey m the World. 69 
 
 on it if all -womeii knew their own minds, and if, 
 on the other hand, they could always tell whether 
 a man was serious before he made a definite avow- 
 al. There is another notion, fortunately not yet 
 extinct, that the manUest thing a man can do is 
 to take his life in his hand, pay the woman he 
 loves the highest tribute in his power by offering 
 her his heart and name, and giving her the definite 
 word that may be the touchstone to reveal to her- 
 self her own feehng. In our conventional life 
 women must move behind a mask in a world of 
 uncertainties. "What wonder that many of them 
 learn in their defensive position to play a game, 
 and sometimes experiment upon the honest natures 
 of their admirers ! But even this does not absolve 
 the chivalrous man from the duty of frankness and 
 exphcitness. Life seems ideal in that far country 
 where the handsome youth stops his carriage at 
 the gate of the vineyard, and says to the laughing 
 girl carrying a basket of grapes on her head, "My 
 pretty maid, will you marry me ?" And the pretty 
 maid, dropping a courtesy, says, " Thank you, sir ; 
 I am already bespoken," or, " Thank you ; I will 
 consider of it when I know you better." 
 
 Not for a moment, I suppose, is a woman ever 
 ignorant of a man's admiration of her, however un- 
 certain she may be of his intentions, and it was 
 with an unusual flutter of the heart that Margaret 
 received Mr. Lyon that afternoon. If she had 
 
70 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 doubts, they were dissipated by a certain constraint 
 in bis manner, and the importance he seemed to 
 be attaching to his departure, and she was warned 
 to go within her defences. Even the most com- 
 plaisant women like at least the appearance of a 
 siege. 
 
 " I'm off to-morrow," he said, " for Washington. 
 You know you recommended it as necessary to my 
 American education." 
 
 " Yes. "We send Eepresentatives and strangers 
 there to be educated. I have never been there 
 myself." 
 
 " And do you not wish to go ?" 
 
 "Yery much. All Americans want to go to 
 Washington. It is the great social opportunity; 
 everybody there is in society. You will be able 
 to see there, Mr. Lyon, how a republican democracy 
 manages social hfe." 
 
 "Do you mean to say there are no distinctions ?" 
 
 " Oh no ; there are plenty of official distinctions, 
 and a code that is very curious and complicated, I 
 believe. But stiU society is open." 
 
 "It must be — pardon me — a good deal like a 
 mob." 
 
 " Well, our mobs of that sort are said to be very 
 well behaved. Mr. Morgan says that Washington 
 is the only capital in the world where the principle 
 of natural selection applies to society ; that it is 
 there shown for the first time that society is able 
 
A Little Jov/rney in the World. 71 
 
 to take care of itself in the free play of democratic 
 opportunities." 
 
 " It must be very interesting to see that." 
 
 " I hope you will find it so. The resident diplo- 
 mats, I have heard, say that they find society there 
 more agreeable than at any other capital — at least 
 those who have the qualities to make themselves 
 agreeable independent of their rank." 
 
 "Is there nothing hke a court? I cannot see 
 who sets the mode." 
 
 " Officially there may be something hke a court, 
 but it can be only temporary, for the personnel of 
 it is dissolved every four years. And society, al- 
 ways forming and reforming, as the voters of the 
 repubhc dictate, is almost independent of the Gov- 
 ernment, and has nothing of the social caste of 
 Berlin or London." 
 
 " You make quite an ideal picture." 
 
 " Oh, I dare say it is not at all ideal ; only it is 
 rather fluid, and interesting, to see how society, 
 without caste and subject to such constant change, 
 can still be what is called 'society.' And I am 
 told that while it is aU open in a certain way, it 
 nevertheless selects itself into agreeable groups, 
 much as society does elsewhere. Yes, you ought 
 to see what a democracy can do in this way." 
 
 " But I am told that money makes your aristoc- 
 racy here." 
 
 " Yery Mkely rich people think they are an aris- 
 
72 A Little Journey in the Wmid. 
 
 tocracy. You see, Mr. Lyon, I don't know much 
 about the great world. Mrs. Fletcher, whose late 
 husband was once a Eepresentative in Washington, 
 says that hfe is not nearly so simple there as it 
 used to be, and that rich men in the Government, 
 vying with rich men who have built fine houses 
 and who hve there permanently without any Gov- 
 ernment position, have introduced an element of 
 expense and display that interferes very much 
 with the natural selection of which Mr. Morgan 
 speaks. But you will see. "We are aU right sorry 
 to have you leave us," Margaret added, turning 
 towards him with frank, unclouded eyes. 
 
 "It is very good in you to say so. I have 
 spent here the most delightful days of my life." 
 
 " Oh, that is charming flattery. You will make 
 us all very conceited." 
 
 " Don't mock me. Miss Debree. I hoped I had 
 awakened something more valuable to me than 
 conceit," Lyon said, with a smile. 
 
 " You have, I assure you : gratitude. You have 
 opened quite another world to us. Reading about 
 foreign life does not give one at aU the same im- 
 pression of it that seeing one who is a part of it 
 does." 
 
 "And don't you want to see that life for your- 
 self ? I hope some time — " 
 
 "Of course," Margaret said, interrupting; "all 
 Americans expect to go to Europe. I have a 
 
A Little Journey vn the World. 73 
 
 friend who says she should be mortified if she 
 reached heaven and there had to confess that she 
 never had seen Europe. It is one of the things 
 that is expected of a person. Though you know 
 now that the embarrassing question that every- 
 body has to answer is, ' Have you been to Alaska ?' 
 Have you been to Alaska, Mr. Lyon ?" 
 
 This icy suggestion seemed very inopportune to 
 Lyon. He rose and walked a step or two, and 
 stood by the fire facing her. He confessed, look- 
 ing down, that he had not been in Alaska, and he 
 had no desire to go there. 
 
 "In fact. Miss Debree," he said, with effort at 
 speaking lightly, " I fear I am not in a geographi- 
 cal mood to-day. I came to say good-bye, and — 
 and—" 
 
 " Shall I call my aunt ?" said Margaret, rising 
 also. 
 
 " No, I beg ; I had something to say that con- 
 cerns us ; that is, that concerns myself. I couldn't 
 go away without knowing from you — that is, with- 
 out teUing you — " 
 
 The color rose in Margaret's cheek, and she 
 made a movement of embarrassment, and said, with 
 haste : " Some other time ; I beg you will not say — 
 I trust that I have done nothing that — " 
 
 " Nothing, nothing," he went on quickly ; " noth- 
 ing except to be yourself ; to be the one woman " 
 — he would not heed her hand raised in a gesture 
 
74 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 of protest ; he stood nearer her now, his face flush- 
 ed and his eyes eager with determination — "the 
 one woman I care for. Margaret, MiSs Debree, I 
 love you !" 
 
 Her hand that rested on the table trembled, and 
 the hot blood rushed to her face, flooding her in 
 an agony of shame, pleasure, embarrassment, and 
 anger that her face should contradict the want of 
 tenderness in her eyes. In an instant self-posses- 
 sion came back to her mind, but not strength to 
 her body, and she sank into the chair, and looking 
 up, with only pity in her eyes, said, " I am sorry." 
 
 Lyon stopped; his heart seemed to stand still; 
 the blood left his face ; for an instant the sunshine 
 left the world. It was a terrible blow, the worst a 
 man can receive — a bludgeon on the head is noth- 
 ing to it. He half turned, he looked again for an 
 instant at the form that was more to him than all 
 the world besides, unable to face the dreadful loss, 
 and recovering speech, falteringly said, "Is that 
 all?" 
 
 " That is aU, Mr. Lyon," Margaret answered, not 
 looking up, and in a voice that was perfectly 
 steady. 
 
 He turned to go mechanically, and passed to the 
 door in a sort of daze, forgetful of all convention- 
 ality ; but habit is strong, and he turned almost 
 immediately back from the passage. Margaret was 
 still sitting, with no recognition of his departure. 
 
A LitUe Journey in the World. 75 
 
 " I beg you will make my excuses, and say good- 
 bye to Miss Forsythe. I had mentioned it to her. 
 I thought perhaps she had told you, perhaps — I 
 should like to know if it is anything about differ- 
 ence in — in nationality, about family, or — " 
 
 " No, no," said Margaret ; " this could never be 
 anything but a personal question with me. I — " 
 
 " But you said, ' some other time.' Might I ever 
 expect — " 
 
 " No, no ; there is no other time ; do not go on. 
 It can only be painful." And then, with a forced 
 cheerfulness : " You will no doubt thaiik me some 
 day. Your life must be so different, from mine. 
 And you must not doubt my esteem, my apprecia- 
 tion" (her sense of justice forced this from her), 
 " my good wishes. Good-bye." She gave him her 
 hand. He held it for a second, and then was gone. 
 
 She heard his footstep, rapid and receding. So 
 he had really gone ! She was not sorry — no. If 
 she could have loved him ! She sank back in her 
 chair. No, she could not love him. The man to 
 command her heart must be of another type. But 
 the greatest experience in a woman's life had come 
 to her here, just now, in this commonplace room. 
 A man had said he loved her. A thousand times 
 as a girl she had dreamed of that, hardly confess- 
 ing it to herself, and thought of such a scene, and 
 feared it. And a man had said that he loved her. 
 Her eyes grew tenderer and her face burned at the 
 
76 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 thought. Was it with pleasure ? Yes, and with 
 womanly pain. What an awful thing it was! 
 Why couldn't he have seen ? A man had said he 
 loved her. Perhaps it was not in her to love any 
 one. Perhaps she should live on and on like her 
 aunt Forsythe. Well, it was over ; and Margaret 
 roused herself as her aunt entered the room. 
 
 " Has Mr. Lyon been here ?" 
 
 " Yes ; he has just gone. He was so sorry not 
 to see you and say good-bye. He left ever so 
 many messages for you." 
 
 "And" (Margaret was moving as if to go) — "did 
 he say nothing — nothing to you ?" 
 
 " Oh yes, he said a great deal," answered this 
 accomplished hypocrite, looking frankly in her 
 aunt's eyes. " He said how delightful his visit had 
 been, and how sorry he was to go." 
 
 " And nothing else, Margaret ?" 
 
 " Oh yes ; he said he was going to Washington." 
 And the girl was gone from the room. 
 
VI. 
 
 Maegaket hastened to her chamber. "Was the 
 air oppressive ? She opened the window and sat 
 down by it. A soft south wind was blowing, eat- 
 ing away the remaining patches of snow ; the sky 
 was full of fleecy clouds. Where do these days 
 come from in January ? Why should nature be in 
 a melting mood? Margaret instinctively would 
 have preferred a wild storm, violence, anything 
 but this elemental languor. Her emotion was in- 
 credible to herself. 
 
 It was only an incident. It had aU happened in 
 a moment, and it was over. But it was the first of 
 the kind in a woman's life. The thrilling, mysteri- 
 ous word had been dropped into a woman's heart. 
 Hereafter she would be changed. She never again 
 would be as she was before. Would her heart be 
 hardened or softened by the experience ? 
 
 She did not love him ; that was clear. She had 
 done right ; that was clear. But he had said he 
 loved her. Unwittingly she was following him in 
 her thought. She had rejected plain John Lyon, 
 amiable, intelligent, unselfish, kindly, deferential 
 She had rejected also the Earl of Chisholm, a con- 
 
78 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 spiouous position, an. honorable family, luxury, a 
 great opportunity in life. It came to the girl in a 
 flash. She moved nervously in her chair. She put 
 down the thought as unworthy of her. But she 
 had entertained it for a moment. In that second, 
 ambition had entered the girl's soul. She had a 
 glimpse of her own nature that seemed new to her. 
 Was this, then, the meaning of her restlessness, of 
 her charitable activities, of her unconfessed dreams 
 of some career % Ambition had entered her soul in 
 a definite form. She expelled it. It would come 
 again in some form or other. She was indignant 
 at herself as she thought of it. How odd it was ! 
 Her privacy had been invaded. The even tenor of 
 her life had been broken. Henceforth would she 
 be less or more sensitive to the suggestion of love, 
 to the allurements of ambition ? Margaret tried, 
 in accordance with her nature, to be sincere with 
 herself. 
 
 After all, what nonsense it was ! Nothing real- 
 ly had happened. A stranger of a few weeks be- 
 fore had declared himself. She did not love him ; 
 he was no more to her than any other man. It 
 was a common occurrence. Her judgment accord- 
 ed with her f eehng in what she had done. How 
 was she to know that she had made a mistake, if 
 mistake it was ? How was she to know that this 
 hour was a crisis in her life? Surely the little 
 tumult would pass ; surely the httle whisper of 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 79 
 
 worldliness could not disturb her ideals. But all 
 the power of exclusion in her mind could not ex- 
 clude the returning thought of what might have 
 been if she had loved him. Alas ! in that moment 
 was born in her heart something that would make 
 the idea of love less simple than it had been in her 
 mind. She was heart-free, but her nature was too 
 deep not to be profoundly affected by this experi- 
 ence. 
 
 Looking back upon this afternoon in the light of 
 after-years, she probably could not feel — no one 
 could say — that she had done wrong. How was 
 she to tell ? Why is it that to do the right thing 
 is often to make the mistake of a life? Nothing 
 could have been nobler than for Margaret indig- 
 nantly to put aside a temptation that her heart 
 told her was unworthy. And yet if she had yield- 
 ed to it ? 
 
 I ought to ask pardon, perhaps, for dwelling 
 upon a thing so slight as the entrance of a thought 
 in a woman's hfe. For as to Margaret, she seemed 
 unchanged. She made no sign that anything unu- 
 sual had occurred. "We only knew that Mr. Lyon 
 went away less cheerful than he usually was, that 
 he said nothing of returning in response to our in- 
 vitations, and that he seemed to anticipate nothing 
 but the fulfilment of a duty in his visit to "Wash- 
 ington. 
 
 "What had happened was regarded as only an 
 
80 A lAtth Journey in the World. 
 
 episode. In fact, however, I doubt if there are any 
 episodes in our lives, any asides, that do not per- 
 manently affect our entire career. Are not the 
 episodes, the casual thoughts, the fortuitous, un- 
 planned meetings, the brief and maybe at the mo- 
 ment unnoted events, those which exercise the most 
 influence on our destiny? To all observation the 
 career of Lyon, and not of Margaret, was most 
 affected by their interview. But often the im- 
 planting of an idea in the mind is more potent 
 than the frustration of a plan or the gratification 
 of a desire, so hidden are the causes that make 
 character. 
 
 For some time I saw httle of Margaret. Affairs 
 in which I was not alone or chiefly concerned took 
 me from home. One of the most curious and in- 
 teresting places in the world is a Chamber in the 
 business heart of New York — if that scene of strug- 
 gle and passion can be said to have a heart — situ- 
 ated midway where the currents of eagerness to 
 acquire the money of other people, not to make it, 
 ceaselessly meet and dash against each other. If 
 we could suppose there was a web covering this 
 region, spun by the most alert and busy of men to 
 catch those less alert and more productive, here in 
 this Chamber would sit the ingenious spiders. But 
 the analogy fails, for spiders do not prey upon each 
 other. Scientists say that the human system has 
 two nerve-centres — one in the brain, to which and 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 81 
 
 from which are telegraphed all movements depend- 
 ing upon the will, and another in the small of the 
 back, the centre of the involuntary operations of 
 respiration, digestion, and so on. It may be fanci- 
 ful to suppose that in the national system TY'ash- 
 ington is the one nervous centre and New York 
 the other. And yet it does sometimes seem that 
 the nerves and ganglions in the small of the back 
 in the commercial metropoUs act automatically and 
 without any visible intervention of intelligence. 
 For all that, their operations may be as essential as 
 the other, in which the will-power sometimes gets 
 into a dead -lock, and sometimes telegraphs the 
 most eccentric and incomprehensible orders. Puz- 
 zled by these contradictions, some philosophers 
 have said that there may be somewhere outside of 
 these two material centres another power that 
 keeps affairs moving along with some steadiness. 
 
 This noble Chamber has a large irregular area of 
 floor space, is very high, and has running round 
 three sides a narrow elevated gallery, from which 
 spectators can look down upon the throng below. 
 Upon a raised dais at one side sits the presiding 
 genius of the place, who rules very much as Jupi- 
 ter was supposed to govern the earthly swarms, by 
 letting things run and occasionally launching a 
 thunder-bolt. High up no one side, in an Olympian 
 seclusion, away from the noise and the strife, sits a 
 Board, calm as fate, and panoplied in the responsi- 
 6 
 
82 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 bility of chance, whose function seems to be that of 
 switch-shifters in their windowed cubby at a net- 
 work of railway intersections — to prevent collisions. 
 
 At both ends of the floor and along one side are 
 narrow railed-off spaces full of clerks figuring at 
 desks, of telegraph operators clicking their ma- 
 chines, of messenger -boys arriving and departing 
 in haste, of unprivileged operators nervously watch- 
 ing the scene and waiting the chance of a word 
 with some one on the floor; through noiseless 
 swinging doors men are entering and departing 
 every moment — men in a hurry, men with anxious . 
 faces, conscious that the fate of the country is in 
 their hands. On the floor itself are five hundred, 
 perhaps a thousand, men, gathered for the most 
 part in small groups about little stands upon the 
 summit of which is a rallying legend, talking, 
 laughing, screaming, good-natured, indifferent, ex- 
 cited, running hither and thither in response to 
 changing figures in the checker-board squares on 
 the great wall opposite — calm, cynical one moment, 
 the next violently agitated, shouting, gesticulating, 
 rushing together, shaking their fists in a tumult of 
 passion which presently subsides. 
 
 The swarms ebb and flow about these little 
 stands — bees, not bringing any honey, but attract- 
 ed to the hive where it is rumored most honey is 
 to be had. By habit some always stand or sit 
 about a particular hive, waiting for the show of 
 
A Little Jowrney in the World. 83 
 
 comb. By-and-by there is a stir ; the crowd thick- 
 ens; one beardless youth shouts out the figure 
 "one-half"; another howls, "three-eighths." The 
 first one nods. It is done. The electric wire run- 
 ning up the stand quivers and takes the figure, 
 passes it to aU the other wires, transmits it to 
 every office and hotel in the city, to all the " tick- 
 ers " in ten thousand chambers and " bucket-shops " 
 and offices in the republic. Suddenly on the bulle- 
 tin-boards in New Orleans, Chicago, San Francisco, 
 Podunk, Liverpool, appear the mysterious " three- 
 eighths," electrifying the watchers of these boards, 
 who begin to jabber and gesticulate and " transact 
 business." It is wonderful. 
 
 What induced the beardless young man to make 
 this "investment" in "three -eighths" — who can 
 tell? Perhaps he had heard, as he came into the 
 room, that the Secretary of the Treasury was going 
 to make % call of Fives ; perhaps he had heard that 
 Bismarck had said that the French blood was too 
 thin and needed a little more iron ; perhaps he had 
 heard that a norther in Texas had killed a herd of 
 cattle, or that two grasshoppers had been seen in 
 the neighborhood of Fargo, or that Jay Hawker 
 had been observed that' morning hurrying to his 
 brokers with a scowl on his face and his hat pulled 
 over his eyes. The young man sold what he did 
 not have, and the other young man bought what 
 he will never get. 
 
8i A IdtUe Journey in the World. 
 
 This is business of the higher and almost imma- 
 terial sort, and has an element of faith in it, and, 
 as one may say, belief in the unseen, whence it is 
 characterized by an expression — " dealing in fut- 
 ures." It is not gambling, for there are no " chips" 
 used, and there is no roulette -table in sight, and 
 there are no piles of money or piles of anything 
 else. It is not a lottery, for there is no wheel 
 at which impartial men preside to insure honest 
 drawings, and there are no predestined blanks and 
 prizes, and the man who buys and the man who 
 sells can do something, either in the newspapers or 
 elsewhere, to affect the worth of the investment, 
 whereas in a lottery everything depends upon the 
 turn of the blind wheel. It is not necessary, how- 
 ever, to attempt a defence of the Chamber. It is 
 one of the recognized ways of becoming important 
 and powerful in this world. The privilege of the 
 floor — a seat, as it is called — in this temple of the 
 god Chance to be Eich is worth more than a seat 
 in the Cabinet. It is not only true that a fortune 
 may be made here in a day or lost here in a day, 
 but that a nod and a wink here enable people all 
 over the land to ruin others or ruin themselves 
 with celerity. The relation of the Chamber to the 
 business of the country is therefore evident. If an 
 earthquake should suddenly sink this temple and 
 aU its votaries into the bowels of the earth, with 
 aU its nervousness and aU its electricity, it is ap- 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 85 
 
 palling to think what would become of the business 
 of the country. 
 
 Not far from this vast Chamber, where great 
 financial operations are conducted on the highest 
 principles of honor, and with the strictest regard 
 to the Marquis of Dusenbury's rules, there is an- 
 other less pretentious Chamber, known as " open," 
 a sort of overflow meeting. Those who have not 
 quite left hope behind can go in here. Here are 
 the tickers communicating with the Chamber, tend- 
 ed by lads, who^ transfer the figures to big black- 
 boards on the wall. In front of these boards sit, 
 from morning- to night, rows, perhaps relays, of 
 men intently or listlessly watching the figures. 
 Many of them, who seldom make a sign, come here 
 from habit ; they have nowhere else to go. Some 
 of them were once lords in the great Chamber, who 
 have been, as the phrase is, " cleaned out." There 
 is a gray-bearded veteran in seedy clothes, with 
 sunken, fiery eyes, who was once many times a 
 milhonaire, was a power in the Board, followed by 
 reporters, had a palace in the Avenue, and drove to 
 his office with coachman and footman in hvery, 
 and his wife headed the list of charities. JSTow he 
 spends his old age watching this black-board, and 
 considers it a good day that brings him five dollars 
 and his car-fare. At one end of the low -ceiled 
 apartment are busy clerks behind a counter, alert 
 and cheerful. If one should go through a side 
 
86 A Little Journey in tlie World. 
 
 door and down a passage he might encounter 
 the smell of rum. Smart young men, clad in the 
 choicest raiment from the misfit counters, with 
 greed stamped on their astute faces, bustle about, 
 watch the black-boards, and make investments 
 with each other. Middle-aged men in slouch hats 
 lounge around with hungry eyes. The place is 
 feverish rather than exciting. A tall fellow, 
 whose gait and clothes proclaim him English, 
 with a hard face and lack-lustre eyes, saunters 
 about; his friends at home suppose he is making 
 his fortune in America. A dapper young gentle- 
 man, quite in the mode, and with the quick air of 
 prosperity, rapidly enters the room and confers 
 with a clerk at the counter. He has the run of 
 the Chamber, and is from the great house of 
 Flamm and Slamm. Perhaps he is taking a 
 " flier " on his own account, perhaps he represents 
 his house in a side transaction — there are so many 
 ways open to enterprising young men in the city ; 
 at any rate, his entrance is regarded as significant. 
 This is not a hospital for the broken down and 
 " cleaned out " of the Chamber, but it is a place of 
 business, which is created and fed by the incessant 
 " ticker." How men existed or did any business at 
 all before the advent of the "ticker" is a wonder. 
 But the Chamber, the creator of low-pressure 
 and high-pressure, the inspirer of the "ticker," is 
 the great generator of business. Here I found 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 87 
 
 Henderson in the morning hour, and he came ug. 
 to me on the call of a messenger. He approached, 
 nonchalant and smihng as usual. 
 
 " Do you see that man," he said, as we stood a 
 moment looking down, "sitting there on a side 
 bench — big body, small head, hair grayish, long 
 beard parted — apparently taking no interest in 
 anything ? That's Flink, who made the corner in 
 O. B. — one of the longest-headed operators in the 
 Chamber. He is about the only man who dare try 
 a hold with Jay Hawker. And for some reason or 
 another, though they have apparent tussles. Hawk- 
 er rather favors him. Five years ago he could 
 just raise money enough to get into the Chamber. 
 Now he is reckoned at anywhere from five to ten 
 millions. I was at his home the other night. 
 Everybody was there. I had a queer feeling, in 
 all the magnificence, that the sheriff might be in 
 there in ten days. Yet he may own a good slice 
 of the island in ten years. His wife, whom I com- 
 plimented, and who thanked me for coming, said 
 she had invited none but the reshershy." 
 
 " He looks hke a rascal," I ventured to re- 
 mark. 
 
 " Oh, that is not a word used in the Chamber. 
 He is called a ' daisy.' I was put into his pew in 
 church the other Sunday, and the preacher de- 
 scribed him and his methods so exactly that I 
 didn't dare look at him. When we came out he 
 
88 A Littte Jowrney in the World. 
 
 whispered, 'That was rather hard on Slack; he 
 must have felt it.' These men rather like that 
 sort of preaching." 
 
 " I don't come here often," Henderson resumed, 
 as we walked away. " The market is flat to-day. 
 There promised to be a little flurry in L. and P., 
 and I looked in for a customer." 
 
 "We walked to his down -town club to lunch. 
 Everybody, I noticed, seemed to know Henderson, 
 and his presence was hailed with a cordial smile, a 
 good-humored nod, or a hearty grasp of the hand. 
 I never knew a more prepossessing man ; his bon- 
 homie was infectious. Though his demeanor was 
 perfectly quiet and modest, he carried the air of 
 good-fellowship. He was entirely frank, cordial, 
 and had that sort of sincerity which one can afford 
 to have who does not take life too seriously. Tall 
 — at least six feet — with a well-shaped head set on 
 square shoulders, brown hair inclined to curl, large 
 blue eyes which could be merry or exceedingly 
 grave, I thought him a picture of manly beauty. 
 Good-natured, clever, prosperous, and not yet thir- 
 ty. What a dower ! 
 
 After we had disposed of our little matter of 
 business, which I confess was not exactly satisfac- 
 tory to me, although when I was told that " the 
 first bondholders will be obliged to come in," he 
 added that " of course we shall take care of our 
 friends," we went to his bachelor quarters up- 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 89 
 
 town. " I "want you to see," he said, " how a her- 
 mit lives." 
 
 The apartments were not my idea of a hermit- 
 age — except in the city. A charming hbrary, 
 spacious, but so full as to be cosey, with an open 
 fire; chamber, dressing-room, and bath-room con- 
 necting, furnished with everything that a luxurious 
 habit could suggest and good taste would not re- 
 fuse, made a retreat that could almost reconcile a 
 sinner to solitude. There were a few good paint- 
 ings, many rare engravings, on the walls, a notable 
 absence, even in the sleeping-room, of photographs 
 of actresses and professional beauties, but here and 
 there souvenirs of travel and evidences that the 
 gentler sex had contributed the skiU of their 
 slender fingers to the cheerfulness of the bachelor's 
 home. Scattered about were the daily and month- 
 ly products of the press, the newest sensations, the 
 things talked about at dinners, but the walls for 
 the most part were lined with books that are rec- 
 ognized as the proper possessions of the lover of 
 books, and most of them in exquisite bindings. 
 Less care, I thought, had been given in the collec- 
 tion to " sets " of " standards " than to those that 
 are rare, or for some reason, either from distin- 
 guished ownership or autograph notes, have a 
 peculiar value. 
 
 In this atmosphere, when we were prepared to 
 take our ease, the talk was no longer of stocks, or 
 
90 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 railways, or schemes, but of books. Whether or 
 not Henderson loved literature I did not then 
 make up my mind, but he had a passion for books, 
 especially for rare and first editions ; and the de- 
 light with which he exhibited his library, the man- 
 ner in which he handled the books that he took 
 down one after the other, the sparkle in his eyes 
 over a "find" or a bargain, gave me a side of his 
 character quite different from that I should have 
 gained by seeing him "in the street" only. He 
 had that genuine respect and affection for a 
 "book" which has become almost traditional in 
 these days of cheap and flimsy publications, a 
 taste held by scholars and collectors, and quite be- 
 yond the popular comprehension. The respect for 
 a book is essential to the dignity and consideration 
 of the place of literature in the world, and when 
 books are treated with no more regard than the 
 newspaper, it is a sign that literature is losing its 
 power. Even the collector, who may read little 
 and care more for the externals than for the soul 
 of his favorites, by the honor he pays them, by the 
 solicitude he expends upon their preservation with- 
 out spot, by the lavishness of expense upon bind- 
 ing, contributes much to the dignity of that art 
 which preserves for the race the continuity of its 
 thought and development. If Henderson loved 
 books merely as a collector whose taste for luxury 
 and expense takes this direction, his indulgence 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 91 
 
 could not but have a certain rei5ning influence. I 
 could not see that he cultivated any decided spe- 
 cialty, but he had many rare copies which had cost 
 fabulous prices, the possession of which gives a 
 reputation to any owner. " My shelves of Ameri- 
 cana," he said, " are nothing like Goodloe's, who 
 has a lot of scarce things that I am hoping to get 
 hold of some day. But there's a little thing " (it 
 was a small coffee-colored tract of six leaves, upon 
 which the binder of the city had exercised his ut- 
 most skiU) "which Goodloe offered me five hun- 
 dred dollars for the other day. I picked it up in a 
 New Hampshire garret." ISTot the least interesting 
 part of the collection was first editions of Ameri- 
 can authors — a person's value to a collector is often 
 in proportion to his obscurity — and what most de- 
 lighted him among them were certaia thin volumes 
 of poetry, which the authors since becoming fa- 
 mous had gone to a good deal of time and expense 
 to suppress. The world seems to experience a 
 lively pleasure in holding a man to his early follies. 
 There were many examples of superb binding, es- 
 pecially of exquisite tooling on hog-skin — covers 
 the appreciation of which has lately greatly re- 
 vived. The recent rage -for bindings has been a 
 sore trouble to students and collectors in special 
 lines, raising the prices of books far beyond their 
 intrinsic value. I had a charming afternoon in 
 Henderson's library, an enjoyment not much less- 
 
92 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 ened at the time by experiencing in it, with him, 
 rather a sense of luxury than of learning. It is 
 true, one might pass an hour altogether different 
 in the garret of a student, and come away with 
 quite other impressions of the pageant of life. 
 
 At five o'clock his stylish trap was sent around 
 from the boarding stable, and we drove in the Park 
 till twilight. Henderson, handling the reins, and 
 making a part of that daily display which is too 
 heterogeneous to have distinction, reverted quite 
 naturally to the tone of worldUness and tolerant 
 cynicism which had characterized his conversation 
 in the morning. If the Park and the moving as- 
 semblage had not the air of distinction, it had that 
 of expense, which is quite as attractive to many. 
 Here, as down -town, my companion seemed to 
 know and be known by everybody, returning the 
 familiar salutes of brokers and club men, receiving 
 gracious bows from stout matrons, smiles and nods 
 from pretty women, and more formal recognition 
 from stately and stiff elderly men, who sat bolt- 
 upright beside their wives and tried to look like 
 millionaires. For every passer-by Henderson had 
 a quick word of characterization sufficiently amus- 
 ing, and about many a story which illuminated the 
 social life of the day. It was wonderful how many 
 of this chance company had little "histories" — 
 comic, tragic, pitiful, interesting enough for the 
 pages of a novel. 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 93 
 
 "There is a young lady" — Henderson touched 
 his hat, and I caught a glimpse of golden hair and 
 a flash of dark eyes out of a mass of furs — " who 
 has no history : the world is all before her." 
 
 "Who is that?" 
 
 " The daughter of old Eschelle— Carmen EscheUe 
 — the banker and politician, you remember ; had a 
 diplomatic position abroad, and the girl was edu- 
 cated in Europe. She is very clever. She and her 
 mother have more money than they ought to 
 know what to do with." 
 
 " That was the celebrated Jay Hawker " (a mo- 
 ment after), " in the modest coupe — not much dis- 
 play about him." 
 
 " Is he recognized by respectable people ?" 
 
 " Kecognized ?" Henderson laughed. "He's a 
 power. There are plenty of people who live by 
 trying to guess what he is going to do. Hawker 
 isn't such a bad fellow. Other people have used 
 the means he used to get rich and haven't succeed- 
 ed. They are not held up to point a moral. The 
 trouble is that Hawker succeeded. Of course it's 
 a game. He plays as fair as anybody." 
 
 " Yes," Henderson resumed, walking his horses 
 in sight of the obehsk, which suggested the long 
 continuance of the human race, " it is the same 
 old game, and it is very interesting to those who 
 are in it. Outsiders think it is all greed. In the 
 Chamber it is a good deal the love of the game, to 
 
94 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 watch each other, to find out a man's plans, to 
 circumvent him, to thwart him, to start a scheme 
 and manipulate it, to catch somebody, to escape 
 somebody ; it is a perpetual excitement." 
 
 "The machine in the Chamber appears to run 
 very smoothly," I said. 
 
 " Oh, that is a public register and indicator. The 
 system back of it is comprehensive, and appears to 
 be complicated, but it is reaUy very simple. Spend 
 an hour some day in the office of Flamm and 
 Slamm, and you wiU see a part of the system. 
 There are always a number of men watching the 
 black-board, figures on which are changed every 
 minute by the attendants. Telegrams are con- 
 stantly arriving from every part of the Union, 
 from all over the continent, from all the centres in 
 Europe, which are read by some one connected 
 with the firm, and then displayed for the guidance 
 of the watchers of the black-board. Upon this 
 news one or another says, ' I think I'H buy,' or ' I 
 think I'U seU,' so and so. His order is transmitted 
 instantly to the Chamber. In two minutes the 
 result comes back and appears upon the black- 
 board." 
 
 " But where does the news come from ?" 
 
 " From the men whose special business it is to 
 pick it up or make it. They are inside of pohtics, 
 of the railways, of the weather bureau, everywhere. 
 The other day in Chicago I sat some time in a 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 95 
 
 broker's office with others watching the market, 
 and dropped into conversation with a bright young 
 fellow, at whose right hand, across the rail, was a 
 telegraph operator at the end of a private wire. 
 Soon a man came in quietly, and whispered in the 
 ear of my neighbor and went out. The young fel- 
 low instantly wrote a despatch and handed it to 
 the operator, and turning to me, said, ' Now watch 
 the black-board.' In an incredibly short space of 
 time a fall in a leading railway showed on the 
 black-board. 'What was it?' I asked. '"Why, 
 that man was the general freight manager of the 
 A. B. road. He told me that they were to cut 
 rates. I sent it to New York by a private wire.' 
 I learned by furthur conversation tha,t my young 
 gentleman was a Manufacturer of News, and that 
 such was his address and intelligence that though 
 he was not a member of the broker's firm, he made 
 ten thousand a year in the business. Soon another 
 man came in, whispered his news, and went away. 
 Another despatch — -another responsive change in 
 the figures. 'That,' explained my companion, 
 'was a man connected with the weather bureau. 
 He told me that there would be a heavy frost to- 
 night in the Northwest.' " 
 
 " Do they sell the weather ?" I asked, very much 
 amused. 
 
 " Yes, twice ; once over a private wire, and then 
 to the public, after the value of it has been squeezed 
 
96 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 out, in the shape of predictions. Oh, the weather 
 bureau is worth all the money it costs, for business 
 purposes. It is a great auxiliary." 
 
 Dining that evening with Henderson at his club, 
 I had further opportunity to study a representa- 
 tive man. He was of a good New Hampshire fam- 
 ily, exceedingly respectable without being distin- 
 guished. Over the chimney-place in the old farm- 
 house hung a rusty Queen Anne that had been at 
 the taking of Louisburg. His grandfather shoul- 
 dered a musket at Bunker Hill; his father, the 
 youngest son, had been a judge as well as a farmer, 
 and noted for his shrewdness and reticence. Rod- 
 ney, inheriting the thrift of his ancestors, had 
 pushed out from his home, adapting this thrift to 
 the modern methods of turning it to account. He 
 had brought also to the city the stamina of three 
 generations of plain hving — a splendid capital, by 
 which the city is constantly reinforced, and which 
 one generation does not exhaust, except by the aid 
 of extreme dissipation. "With sound health, good 
 ability, and fair education, he had the cheerful tem- 
 perament which makes friends, and does not allow 
 their misfortunes to injure his career. Generous 
 by impulse, he would rather do a favor than not, 
 and yet he would be likely to let nothing interfere 
 with any object he had in view for himself. Inher- 
 iting a conventional respect for religion and moral- 
 ity, he was not so bigoted as to rebuke the gayety 
 
A Idttle Journey in the World. 97 
 
 of a convivial company, nor so intractable as 
 to make him an uncomfortable associate in any 
 scheme, according to the modern notions of busi- 
 ness, that promised prcrfit. His engaging manner 
 made him popular, and his good-natured adroitness 
 made him successful. If his early experience of 
 hfe caused him to be cynical, he was not bitterly 
 so ; his cynicism was of the tolerant sort that does 
 not condemn the world and withdraw from it, but 
 courts it and makes the most of it, lowering his 
 private opinion of men in proportion as he is suc- 
 cessful in the game he plays with them. 
 
 At this period I could 'see that he had deter- 
 mined to be successful, and that he had not deter- 
 mined to be unscrupulous. He would only drift 
 with the tide that made for fortune. He enjoyed 
 the world — a suflBcient reason why the world should 
 like him. His business morality was gauged by 
 what other people do in similar circumstances. In 
 short, he was a product of the period since the civil 
 war closed, that great upheaval of patriotic feeling 
 and sacrifice, which ended in so much expansion 
 and so many opportunities. If he had remained ia 
 New Hampshire he would probably have been a 
 successful pohtician, successful not only in keeping 
 in place, but in teaching younger aspirants that 
 serving the country is a very good way to the 
 attainment of luxury and the consideration that 
 money brings. But having chosen the law as a 
 7 
 
98 A lAttle Jowmey in the World. 
 
 stepping-stone to the lobby, to speculation, and the 
 manipulation of chances, he had a poor opinion of 
 politics and of politicians. His success thus far, 
 though considerable, had not been sufficient to cre- 
 ate for him powerful enemies, so that he may be 
 said to be admired by all and feared by none. In 
 the general opinion he was a downright good fel- 
 low and amazingly clever. 
 
VII. 
 
 In youth, as at the opera, everything seems pos- 
 sible. Surely it is not necessary to choose between 
 love and riches. One may have both, and the one 
 aU the more easily for having attained the other. 
 It must be a fiction of the moralists who construct 
 the dramas that the god of love and the god of 
 money each claims an undivided allegiance. It 
 was in some whoUy legendary, perhaps spiritual, 
 world that it was necessary to renounce love to 
 gain the Ehine gold. The boxes at the Metropoli- 
 tan did not believe this. The spectators of the 
 boxes could believe it still less. For was not beau- 
 ty there seen shining in jewels that have a market 
 value, and did not love visibly preside over the 
 union, and make it known that his sweetest favors 
 go with a prosperous world ? 
 
 And yet, is ihe charm of hfe somewhat depend- 
 ing upon a sense of its fleetingness, of its phan- 
 tasmagorial character, a note of coming disaster, 
 maybe, in the midst of its most seductive pageant- 
 ry, in the whirl and ghtter and hurry of it ? Is 
 there some subtle sense of exquisite satisfaction in 
 snatching the sweet moments of life out of the 
 very delirium of it, that must soon end in an awak- 
 
100 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 ening to bankruptcy of the affections, and the 
 dreadful loss of illusions? Else why do we take 
 pleasure — a pleasure so deep that it touches the 
 heart like melancholy — in the common drama of 
 the opera ? How gay and joyous is the beginning ! 
 Mirth, hilarity, entrancing sound, brilliant color, 
 the note of a trumpet calling to heroism, the be- 
 seeching of the concordant strings, and the soft 
 flute inviting to pleasure ; scenes placid, pastoral, 
 innocent ; light - hearted love, the dance on the 
 green, the stately pageant in the sunlit streets, the 
 court, the ball, the mad splendor of life. And then 
 love becomes passion, and passion thwarted hurries 
 on to sin, and sin lifts to the heights of the im- 
 mortal, sweetly smiling gods, and plunges to the 
 depths of despair. In vain the orchestra, the in- 
 evitable accompaniment of life, warns and pleads 
 and admonishes; calm has gone, and gayety has 
 gone ; there is no sweetness now but in the wild- 
 ness of surrender and of sacrifice. How sad are 
 the remembered strains that aforetime were incen- 
 tives to love and promises of happiness ! Gloom 
 settles upon the scene ; Mephisto, the only radiant 
 one, flits across it, and mocks the poor broken- 
 hearted girl clinging to the church door. There is 
 a dungeon, the chanting of the procession of ton- 
 sured priests, the passing-bell. Seldom appears the 
 golden bridge over which the baffled and tired pass 
 into Valhalla. 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 101 
 
 Do we like this because it is life, or because 
 there is a certain satisfaction in seeing the tragedy 
 which impends over all, pervades the atmosphere, 
 as it were, and adds something of zest to the mild- 
 est enjoyment? Should we go away from the 
 mimic stage any better and stronger if the drama 
 began in the dungeon and ended on the green- 
 sward, with innocent love and resplendent beauty 
 in possession of the Rhine gold ? 
 
 How simple, after all, was the created world on 
 the stage to the real world in the auditorium, with 
 its thousand complexities and dramatic situations ! 
 and if the little knot of players of parts for an 
 hour could have had leisure to be spectators of the 
 audience, what a deeper revelation of life would 
 they not have seen ! For the world has never as- 
 sembled such an epitome of itself, in its passion for 
 pleasure and its passion for display, as in the mod- 
 ern opera, with its ranks and tiers of votaries from 
 the pit to the dome. I fancy that even Margaret, 
 whose love for music was genuine, was almost as 
 much fascinated by the greater spectacle as by the 
 less. 
 
 It was a crowded night, for the opera was one 
 that appealed to the senses and stimulated them 
 to activity, and left the mind free to pursue its 
 own schemes ; in a word, orchestra and the scenes 
 formed a sort of accompaniment and interpreter 
 to the private dramas in the boxes. The opera 
 
102 A Little Journey m t/ie World. 
 
 was made for society, and not society for the op- 
 era. We occupied a box in the second tier — the 
 Morgans, Margaret, and my wife. Morgan said 
 that the glasses were raised to us from the parquet 
 and levelled at us from the loges because we were 
 a country party, but he well enough knew whose 
 fresh beauty and enthusiastic young face it was 
 that drew the fire when the curtain fell on the 
 first act, and there was for a moment a little lull 
 in the hum of conyersation. 
 
 "I had heard," Morgan was saying, "that the 
 opera was not acclimated in New York ; but it is 
 nearly so. The audience do not jabber so loud nor 
 so incessantly as at San Carlo, and they do not 
 hum the airs with the singers — " 
 
 " Perhaps," said my wife, " that is because they 
 do not know the airs." 
 
 " — But they are getting on in cultivation, and 
 learning how to assert the social side of the opera, 
 which is not to be seriously interfered with by the 
 music on the stage." 
 
 " But the music, the scenery, were never before 
 so good," I replied to these cynical observations. 
 
 "That is true. And the social side has risen 
 with it. Do you know what an impudent thing 
 the managers did the other night in protesting 
 against the raising of the lights by which the 
 house was made brilliant and the cheap illusions 
 of the stage were destroyed ? They wanted to 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 103 
 
 make the house positively gloomy for the sake of 
 a little artificial moonlight on the painted towers 
 and the canvas lakes." 
 
 As the world goes, the scene was brilliant, of 
 course vrith republican simplicity. The imagina- 
 tion was helped by no titled names any more than 
 the eye was by the insignia of rank, but there was 
 a certain glow of feeling, as the glass swept the 
 circle, to know that there were ten millions in this 
 box, and twenty in the next, and fifty in the next, 
 attested well enough by the flash of jewels and 
 the splendor of attire, and one might indulge a 
 genuine pride in the prosperity of the republic. 
 As for beauty, the world, surely, in this later time, 
 had flowered here — flowered with something of 
 Aspasia's grace and something of the haughty 
 coldness of Agrippina. And yet it was American. 
 Here and there in the boxes was a thorough-bred 
 portrait by Copely — the long shapely neck, the 
 the sloping shoulders, the drooping eyelids, even to 
 the gown in which the great-grandmother danced 
 with the French offcers. 
 
 " Who is that lovely creature ?" asked Margaret, 
 indicating a box opposite. 
 
 I did not know. There were two ladies, and be- 
 hind them I had no difficulty in making out Hen- 
 derson and — Margaret evidently had not seen him 
 — Mr. Lyon. Almost at the same moment Hen- 
 derson recognized me, and signalled for me to come 
 
104 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 to his box. As I rose to do so, Mrs. Morgan ex- 
 claimed : " '^\i:^, there is Mr. Lyon ! Do tell him 
 we are here." I saw Margaret's color rise, but she 
 did not speak. 
 
 I was presented to Mrs. Eschelle and her daugh- 
 ter; in the latter I recognized the beauty who had 
 flashed by us in the Park. The elder lady inclined 
 to stoutness, and her too youthful apparel could 
 not mislead one as to the length of her pilgrimage 
 in this world, nor.«soften the hard lines of her 
 worldly face — lines acquired, one could see, by a 
 social struggle, and not drawn there by an innate 
 patrician insolence. 
 
 " We are glad to see a friend of Mr. Hender- 
 son's," she said, " and of Mr. Lyon's also. Mr. Lyon 
 has told us much of your charming country home. 
 "Who is that pretty girl in your box, Mr. Fair- 
 child?" 
 
 Miss Eschelle had her glass pointed at Margaret 
 as I gave the desired information. \, 
 
 "How innocent!" she murmured. "And she's 
 quite in the style — isn't she, Mr. Lyon ?" she asked, 
 turning about, her sweet mobile face quite the pict- 
 ure of what she was describing. " "We are all in- 
 nocent in these days." 
 
 " It is a very good style," I said. 
 
 " Isn't it becoming ?" asked the girl, making her 
 dark eyes at once merry and demure. 
 
 Mr. Lyon was looking intently at the opposite 
 
A Little Journey in, the World. 105 
 
 box, and a slight shade came over his fine face. 
 "Ah, I see !" 
 
 " I beg your pardon. Miss Eschelle," he said, after 
 a second, " I hardly know which to admire most, 
 the beauty, or the wit, or the innocence of the 
 American women." 
 
 " There is nothing so confusing, though, as the 
 country innocence," the girl said, with the most 
 natural air ; " it never knows where to stop." 
 
 " You are too absurd. Carmen," her mother in- 
 terposed ; " as if the town girl did !" 
 
 "Well, mamma, there is authority for saying 
 that there is a time for everything, only one must 
 be in the fashion, you know." 
 
 Mr. Lyon looked a little dubious at this turn of 
 the talk ; Mr. Henderson was as evidently amused 
 at the girl's acting. I said I was glad to see that 
 goodness was in fashion. 
 
 " Oh, it often is. You know we were promised 
 a knowledge of good as well as evil. It depends 
 upon the point of view. I fancy, now, that Mr. 
 Henderson tolerates the good — that is the reason 
 we get on so well together ; and Mr. Lyon tolerates 
 the evil — that's the reason he likes New York. I 
 have almost promised him that I wUl have a mis- 
 sion school." 
 
 The girl looked quite capable of it, or of any 
 other form of devotion. ITotwithstanding her per- 
 sistent banter, she had a most inviting innocence 
 
106 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 of manner, almost an ingenuousness, that well be- 
 came her exquisite beauty. And but for a tenta- 
 tive daring in her talk, as if the gentle creature 
 were experimenting as to how far one could safely 
 go, her innocence might have seemed that of igno- 
 rance. 
 
 It came out in the talk that Mr. Lyon had been 
 in Washington for a week, and would return there 
 later on. 
 
 " "We had a claim on him," said Mrs. Eschelle, " for 
 his kindness to us in London, and we are trying 
 to convince him that New York is the real capital." 
 
 " Unfortunately," added Miss Eschelle, looking 
 up in Mr. Lyon's face, " he visited Brandon first, 
 and you seem to have bewitched him with your 
 simple country ways. I can get him to talk of 
 nothing else." 
 
 " Tou mean to say," Mr. Lyon replied, with the 
 air of retorting, " that you have asked me about 
 nothing else." 
 
 " Oh, you know we felt a little responsible for 
 you; and there is no place so dangerous as the 
 country. Now here you are protected — we put all 
 the wickedness on the stage, and learn to recognize 
 and — shun it." 
 
 " It may be wicked," said her mother, "but it is 
 dull. Don't you find it so, Mr. Henderson ? I am 
 passionately fond of "Wagner, but it is too noisy for 
 anything to-night." 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 107 
 
 " I notice, dear," the dutiful daughter replied for 
 aU of us, " that you have to raise your voice. But 
 there is the ballet. Let us all Usten novr." 
 
 Mr. Lyon excused himself from going with me, 
 saying that he would caU at our hotel, and I took 
 Henderson. " I shall count the minutes you are 
 going to lose," the girl said as we went out — to our 
 box. The lobbies in the interact were thronged 
 with men — for the most part the young specu- 
 lators of the Chamber turned into loungers in 
 the foyer — knowing, alert, attitudinizing in the 
 extreme of the mode, unable even in this hour to 
 give beauty the preference to business, well know- 
 ing, perhaps, that beauty itself in these days has a 
 fine eye for business. 
 
 I liked Henderson better in our box than in his 
 own. Was it because the atmosphere was more 
 natural and genuine ? Or was it Margaret's trans- 
 parent nature, her sincere enjoyment of the scene, 
 her evident pleasure in the music, the color, the 
 gayety of the house, that made him drop the slight 
 cynical air of the world which had fitted him so 
 admirably a moment before. He already knew my 
 wife and the Morgans, and, after the greetings 
 were made, he took a seat by Margaret, quite con- 
 tent whUe the act was going on to watch its prog- 
 ress in the play of her responsive features. How 
 quickly she felt, how the frown followed the smile, 
 how she seemed to weigh and try to apprehend the 
 
108 A LitUe Journey in the World. 
 
 meaning of what went on — how her every sense 
 enjoyed life ! 
 
 " It is absurd," she said, turning her bright face 
 to him when the curtain dropped, " to be so inter- 
 ested in fictitious trouble." 
 
 " I'm not so sure that it is," he replied, in her 
 own tone ; " the opera is a sort of ptilpit, and not 
 seldom preaches an awful sermon — more plainly 
 than the preacher dares to make it." 
 
 " But not in nomine Dei." 
 
 " No. But who can say what is most effective ? 
 I often wonder, as I watch the congregations com- 
 ing from the churches on the Avenue, if they are 
 any more solemnized than the audiences that pour 
 out of this house. I confess that I cannot shake 
 off ' Lohengrin ' in a good while after I hear it." 
 
 "And so you think the theatres have a moral 
 influence ?" 
 
 "Honestly" — and I heard his good-natured 
 laugh — "I couldn't swear to that. But then we 
 don't know what New York might be without 
 them." 
 
 " I don't know," said Margaret, " reflectively, 
 "that my own good impulses, such as I have, are 
 excited by anything I see on the stage ; perhaps I 
 am more tolerant, and maybe toleration is not 
 good. I wonder if I should grow worldly, seeing 
 more of it ?" 
 
 "Perhaps it is not the stage so much as the 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 109 
 
 house," Henderson replied, beginning to read the 
 girl's mind. 
 
 " Yes, it would be different if one came alone 
 and saw the play, unconscious of the house, as if it 
 were a picture. I think it is the house that dis- 
 turbs one, makes one restless and discontented." 
 
 " I never analyzed my emotions," said Hender- 
 son, " but when I was a boy and came to the the- 
 atre I well remember that it made me ambitious ; 
 every sort of thing seemed possible of attainment 
 in the excitement of the crowded house, the music, 
 the lights, the easy successes on the stage ; nothing 
 else is more stimulating to a lad; nothing else 
 makes the world more attractive." 
 
 "And does it continue to have the same effect, 
 Mr. Henderson ?" 
 
 "Hardly," and he smiled; "the illusion goes, 
 and the stage is about as real as the house — usually 
 less interesting. It can hardly compete .with the 
 comedy in the boxes." 
 
 " Perhaps it is lack of experience, but I like the 
 play for itself." 
 
 " Oh yes ; desire for the dramatic is natural. 
 People will have it somehow. In the country vil- 
 lage where there are no theatres the people make 
 dramas out of each other's lives ; the most trivial 
 incidents are magnified and talked about — drama- 
 tized, in short." 
 
 " Tou mean gossiped about ?" 
 
110 A Little Journey m the World. 
 
 " "Well, you may call it gossip ; nothing can be 
 concealed ; everybody knows about everybody else ; 
 there is no privacy ; everything is used to create 
 that illusory spectacle which the stage tries to 
 give. I think that in the country village a good 
 theatre would be a wholesome influence, satisfy a 
 natural appetite indicated by the inquisition into 
 the affairs of neighbors, and by the petty scan- 
 dal." 
 
 " "We are on the way to it," said Mv. Morgan, 
 who sat behind them ; " we have theatricals in the 
 church parlors, which may grow into a nineteenth- 
 century substitute for the miracle - plays. You 
 mustn't, Margaret, let Mr. Henderson prejudice you 
 against the country." 
 
 " No, said the latter, quickly ; " I was only try- 
 ing to defend the city. "We country people always 
 do that. "We must base our theatrical life on 
 something in nature." 
 
 " "What is the difference, Mr. Henderson," asked 
 Margaret, " between the gossip in the boxes and 
 the country gossip you spoke of ?" 
 
 " In toleration mainly, and lack of exact knowl- 
 edge. It is here rather cynical persiflage, not con- 
 centrated public opinion." 
 
 " I don't f oUow you," said Morgan. " It seems 
 to me that in the city you've got gossip plus the 
 stage." 
 
 " That is to say, we have the world." 
 
A ZitUe Journey in the World. Ill 
 
 " I don't like to believe that," said Margaret, seri- 
 ously — " your definition of the world." 
 
 " You make me see that it was a poor jest," he 
 said, rising to go. " By-the-way, we have a friend 
 of yours in our box to-night — a young Englishman." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Lyon. We were all dehghted with 
 him. Such a transparent, genuine nature !" 
 
 " Tell him," said my wife, " that we should be 
 happy to see him at our hotel." 
 
 When Henderson came back to his box Carmen 
 did not look up, but she said, indiiferently : " What, 
 so soon ? But your absence has made one person 
 thoroughly miserable. Mr. Lyon has not taken his 
 eyes off you. I never saw such an international 
 attachment." 
 
 " What more could I do for Miss Eschelle than 
 to leave her in such company ?" 
 
 • " I beg your pardon," said Lyon. " Miss Eschelle 
 must believe that I thoroughly appreciate Mr. 
 Henderson's self-sacrifice. If I occasionally looked 
 over where he was, I assure you it was in pity." 
 
 "You are both altogether too self-sacrificing," 
 the beauty replied, turning to Henderson a look 
 that was sweetly forgiving. " They who sin much 
 shall be forgiven much, you know." 
 
 " That leaves me," Mr. Lyon answered, with a 
 laugh, " as you say over here, out in the cold, for I 
 have passed a too happy evening to feel like a 
 transgressor." 
 
112 A Little Jowrney in the World. 
 
 " The sins of omission are the worst sort," she 
 retorted. 
 
 "You see what you must do to be forgiven," 
 Henderson said to Lyon, with that good-natured 
 smile that was so potent to smooth away sharp- 
 ness. 
 
 " I fear I can never do enough to qualify my- 
 self." And he also laughed. 
 
 "You never wiU," Carmen answered, but she 
 accompanied the doubt with a witching smile that 
 denied it. 
 
 ""What is aU. this about forgiveness?" asked Mrs. 
 Eschelle, turning to them from regarding the stage. 
 
 " Oh, we were having an experience meeting be- 
 hind your back, mamma, only Mr. Henderson won't 
 tell his experience." 
 
 " Miss Eschelle is in such a forgiving humor to- 
 night that she absolves before any one has a 
 chance to confess," he replied. 
 
 " Don't you think I am always so, Mr. Lyon 1" 
 
 Mr. Lyon bowed. "I think that an opera -box 
 with Miss EscheUe is the easiest confessional in the 
 world." 
 
 "That's something hke a complimsnt. You 
 see " (to Henderson) " how much you Americans 
 have to learn." 
 
 " Will you be my teacher ?" 
 
 " Or your pupil," the girl said, in a low voice, 
 standing near him as she rose. 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 113 
 
 The play was over. In the robing and descend- 
 ing through the corridors there "were the usual 
 chatter, meaning looks, confidential asides. It is 
 always at the last moment, in the hurry, as in a 
 postscript, that woman says what she means, or 
 what for the moment she wishes to be thought to 
 mean. In the crowd on the main stair-way the 
 two parties saw each other at a distance, but with- 
 out speaking. 
 
 "Is it true that Lyon is epris there ?" Carmen 
 whispered to Henderson when she had scanned 
 and thoroughly inventoried Margaret. 
 
 " Tou know as much as I do." 
 
 " WeU, you did stay a long time," she said, in a 
 lower tone. 
 
 As Margaret's party waited for their carriage 
 she saw Mrs. Eschelle and her daughter enter a 
 shining coach, with footman and coachman in 
 livery. Henderson stood raising his hat. A little 
 white hand was shaken to him from the window, 
 and a sweet, innocent face leaned forward — a face 
 with dark eyes and golden hair. Lit up with a radi- 
 ant smile. That face for the moment was New 
 York to Margaret, and New York seemed a vain 
 show. 
 
 Carmen threw herself back in her seat as if 
 weary. Mrs. Eschelle sat bolt-upright. 
 
 " What in the world, chUd, made you go on so 
 to-night?" 
 8 
 
114 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 "I don't know." 
 
 " What made you snub Mr. Lyon so often ?" 
 "Did I? He won't mind much. Didn't you 
 see, mother, that he was distrcdt the moment he 
 espied that girl? I'm not going to waste my 
 time. I know the signs. No fisheries imbroglio 
 for me, thank you." 
 
 " Fish ? "Who said anything about fish ?" 
 " Oh, the international business. Ask Mr. Hen- 
 derson to explain it. The English want to fish in 
 our waters, I believe. I think Mr. Lyon has had a 
 nibble from a fresh -water fish. Perhaps it's the 
 other way, and he's hooked. There be fishers of 
 men, you know, mother." 
 
 " You are a strange child. Carmen. I hope you 
 wiU be civil to both of them." And they rode on 
 in silence. 
 
VIII. 
 
 In real life the opera or the theatre is only the 
 prologue to the evening. Our little party supped 
 at Delgardo's. The play then begins. New York 
 is quite awake by that time, and ready to amuse 
 itself. After the public duty, the public attitudi- 
 nizing, after assisting at the artificial comedy and 
 tragedy which imitate life under a mask, and sug- 
 gest without satisfying, comes the actual experi- 
 ence. My gentle girl — God bless your sweet face 
 and pure heart ! — who looked down from the sky- 
 parlor at the Metropolitan upon the legendary 
 splendor of the stage, and the alluring beauty and 
 wealth of the boxes, and went home to create in 
 dreams the dearest romance in a maiden's life, you 
 did not know that for many the romance of thd 
 night just began when the curtain fell. 
 
 The streets were as light as day. At no other 
 hour were the pavements so thronged, was there 
 such a crush of carriages, such a blockade of cars, 
 such running and shouting, greetings and deco- 
 rous laughter, such a swirl of pleasurable excite- 
 ment. Never were the fashionable cafes and res- 
 taurants so crowded and brilliant. It is not a 
 
116 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 carnival time; it is just the flow and ebb of a 
 night's pleasure, an electric night which has aU of 
 the morning except its peace, a night of the gayest 
 opportunity and unlimited possibility. 
 
 At each little table was a drama in progress, 
 light or serious^-aU the more serious for being 
 light at the moment and unconsidered. Morgan, 
 who was so well informed in the gossip of society 
 and so little involved in it — some men have this 
 faculty, which makes them much more entertain- 
 ing than the daily newspaper — ^knew the histories 
 of half the people in the room. There were an 
 Italian marquis and his wife supping together like 
 lovers, so strong is the force of habit that makes 
 this public life necessary even when the domestic 
 life is established. There is a man who shot him- 
 self rather seriously on the door-steps of the beauty 
 who rejected him, and in a year married the hand- 
 some and more wealthy woman who sits opposite ' 
 him in that convivial party. There is a Eussian 
 ■princess, a fair woman with cool observant eyes, 
 making herself agreeable to a mixed company in 
 three languages. In this brilliant light is it not 
 wonderful how da^zhngly beautiful the women are 
 — brunettes in yellow and diamonds, blondes in 
 elaborately simple toilets, with only a bunch of 
 roses for ornament, in the flush of the midnight 
 hour, in a radiant glow that even the excitement 
 and the lifted glass cannot heighten ? That pretty 
 
A Little Journey vn, the World. 117 
 
 girl yonder — is she wife or widow? — slight and 
 fresh and fair, they say has an ambition to extend 
 her notoriety by going upon the stage ; the young 
 lady with her, who does not seem to fear a public 
 place, may be helping her on the road. The two 
 young gentlemen, their attendants, have the air of 
 taking life more seriously than the girls, but regard 
 with respectful interest the mounting vivacity of 
 their companions, which rises and sparkles like the 
 bubbles in the slender glasses which they raise to 
 their lips with the dainty grace of practice. The 
 staid family parties who are supping at adjoining 
 tables notice this group with curiosity, and express 
 their opinion by elevated eyebrows. 
 
 Margaret leaned back in her chair and regarded 
 the whole in a musing frame of mind. I think she 
 apprehended nothing of it except the light, the 
 color, the beauty, the movement of gayety. For 
 her the notes of the orchestra sounded through it 
 all — the voices of the singers, the hum of the house ; 
 it was all a spectacle and a play. "Why should she 
 not enjoy it % There was something in the nature 
 of the girl that responded to this form of pleasure 
 — the legitimate pleasure the senses take in being 
 gratified. "It is so different," she said to me, 
 "from the pleasure one has in an evening by the 
 fire. Do you know, even Mr. Morgan seems world- 
 ly here." 
 
 It was a deeper matter than she thought, this 
 
118 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 about worldliness, which had been raised in Mar- 
 garet's mind. Have we all double natures, and do 
 we simply conform to whatever surrounds us ? Is 
 there any difference in kind between the country 
 worldliness and the city worldliness? I do not 
 suppose that Margaret formulated any of these 
 ideas in words. Her knowledge of the city had 
 hitherto been superficial. It was a place for shop- 
 ping, for a day in a picture exhibition, for an even- 
 ing in the theatre, no more a part of her existence 
 than a novel or a book of travels : of the life of the 
 town she knew nothing. That night in her room 
 she became aware for the first time of another 
 world, restless, fascinating, striving, fuU of oppor- 
 tunities. "What must London be ? 
 
 If we could only note the first coming into the 
 mind of a thought that changes life and re-forms 
 character — supposing that every act and every new 
 departure has this subtle beginning — we might be 
 less the sport of circumstances than we seem to be. 
 Unnoted, the desire so swiftly follows the thought 
 and juggles with the will. 
 
 The next day Mr. Henderson left his card and a 
 basket of roses. Mr. Lyon called. It was a con- 
 strained visit. Margaret was cordially civil, and I 
 fancied that Mr. Lyon would have been more con- 
 tent if she had been less so. If he were a lover, 
 there was little to please him in the exchange of 
 the commonplaces of the day. 
 
A lAttle Journey in the Wmid. 119 
 
 " Yes," he was saying to my wife, " perhaps I 
 shall have to change nay mind about the simplicity 
 of your American life. It is much the same in 
 New York and London. It is only a question of 
 more or less sophistication." 
 
 " Mr. Henderson tells us," said my wife, " that 
 you knew the Eschelles in London." 
 
 " Yes. Miss EscheUe almost had a career there 
 last season." 
 
 "Why almost?" 
 
 " Well — you wiU pardon me — one needs for suc- 
 cess in these days to be not only very clever, but 
 equally daring. It is every day more difficult to 
 make a sensation." 
 
 " I thought her, across the house," Margaret said, 
 " very pretty and attractive. I did not know you 
 were so satirical, Mr. Lyon. Do you mean that 
 one must be more daring, as you call it, in London 
 than in New York ?" 
 
 " I hope it will not hurt your national pride. Miss 
 Debree, if I say that there is always the greater 
 competition in the larger market." 
 
 " Oh, my pride," Margaret answered, " does not 
 lie in that direction." 
 
 " And to do her justice, I don't think Miss Es- 
 cheUe's does either. She appears to be more inter- 
 ested now in New York than in London." 
 
 He laughed as he said this, and Margaret laughed 
 also, and then stopped suddenly, thinking of the 
 
120 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 roses that came that morning. Could she be com- 
 paring the Londoner with the handsome American 
 who sat by her side at the opera last night ? She 
 was half annoyed with herself at the thought. 
 
 " And are not you also interested in New York, 
 Mr. Lyon ?" my wife asked. 
 
 " Yes, moderately so, if you will permit me to 
 say it." It was an effort on his part to keep up 
 the conversation, Margaret was so wholly unre- 
 sponsive; and afterwards, knowing how affairs 
 stood with them, I could understand his well-bred 
 misery. The hardest thing in the world is to suffer 
 decorously and make no sign in the midst of a 
 society which insists on stoicism, no matter how 
 badly one is hurt. The Society for First Aid to 
 the Injured hardens its heart in these cases. "I 
 have never seen another place," he Continued, 
 " where the women are so busy in improving them- 
 selves. Societies, clubs, parlor lectures, readings, 
 recitations, musicals, classes — it fatigues one to 
 keep in sight of them. Every afternoon, every 
 evening, something. I doubt if men are capable 
 of such incessant energy, Mrs. Fairchild." 
 
 " And you find they have no time to be agree- 
 able?" 
 
 " Quite the contrary. There is nothing they are 
 not interesting in, nothing about which they can- 
 not talk, and talk intensely. They absorb every- 
 thing, and have the gift of acquiring intelligence 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 121 
 
 without, as one of them told me, having to waste 
 time in reading. Yes, it is a most interesting 
 city." 
 
 The coming in of Mr. Morgan gave another turn 
 to the talk. He had been to see a rm'al American 
 play, an exhibition of country life and character, 
 constructed in absolute disregard of any traditions 
 of the stage. 
 
 " I don't suppose," Mr. Morgan said, " a foreigner 
 would understand it ; it would be impossible in 
 Paris, incomprehensible in London." 
 
 " Yes, I saw it," said Mr. Lyon, thus appealed to. 
 "It was very odd, and seemed to amuse the au- 
 dience immensely. I suppose one must be familiar 
 with American farm life to see the points of it. I 
 confess that while I sat there, in an audience so 
 keenly in sympathy with the play — almost a part 
 of it, one might say — I doubted if I understood 
 your people as well as I thought I did when I had 
 been here a week only. Perhaps this is the begin- 
 ning of an American drama." 
 
 " Some people say that it is." 
 
 "But it is so local!" 
 
 "Anything that is true must be true to local 
 conditions, to begin with. The only question is, is 
 it true to human nature? What puzzled me in 
 this American play was its raising the old ques- 
 tion of nature and art. You've seen Coquelin? 
 "Well, that is acting, as artificial as a sonnet, the 
 
122 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 perfection of training, skill in an art. You never 
 doubt that lie is performing in a play for the en- 
 tertainment of an audience. You have the same 
 enjoyment of it that you have of a picture — a pict- 
 ure, I mean, full of character and sentiment, not a 
 photograph. But I don't think of Denman Thomp- 
 son as an actor trained to perfection in a dramatic 
 school, but as a New Hampshire farmer. I don't 
 admire his skill; I admire him. There is plenty 
 that is artificial, vulgarly conventional, in his play, 
 plenty of imitation of the rustic that shows it is 
 imitation, but he is the natural man. If he is a 
 stage illusion, he does not seem so to me." 
 
 "Probably to an American audience only he 
 does not," Mr. Lyon remarked. 
 
 " Well, that is getting to be a tolerably large au- 
 dience." 
 
 "I doubt if you will change the laws of art," 
 said Mr. Lyon, rising to go. 
 
 " "We shall hope to see you again at our house," 
 my wife said. 
 
 ' " You are very good. I should like it ; but my 
 time is running out." 
 
 " If you cannot come, you may leave your adieus 
 with Miss Debree, who is staying some time in the 
 city," my wife said, evidently to Margaret's annoy- 
 ance. But she could do no less than give him her 
 city address, though the information was not ac- 
 companied by any invitation in her manner. 
 
A Little Jowmey in the World. 123 
 
 Margaret was to stay some time with two maid- 
 en ladies, old friends of her mother, the Misses Ar- 
 buser. The Arbusers were people of consequence 
 in their day, with a certain social prestige ; in fact, 
 the excellent ladies were two generations removed 
 from successful mercantile life, which in the remote 
 perspective took on an old -family solidity. JSTo- 
 where else in the city could Margaret have come 
 ■ closer in contact with a cer£ain phase of New York 
 life in which women are the chief actors — a phase 
 which may be a transition, and may be only a 
 craze. It is not so much a condescension of society 
 to literature as it is a discovery that literature and 
 art, in the persons of those who produce both, may 
 be sources of amusement, or perhaps, to be just, of 
 the enlargement of the horizon and the improve- 
 ment of the mind. The society mind was never 
 before so hospitable to new ideas and new sensa- 
 tions. Charities, boards of managers, missions, hos- 
 pitals, news-rooms, and lodging-houses for the illit- 
 erate and the homeless — these are not sufficient, 
 even with balls, dancing classes, and teas, for the 
 superfluous energies of this restless, improving gen- 
 eration ; there must be also radical clubs, reading 
 classes, study classes, ethical, historical, scientific, 
 literary lectures, the reading of papers by ladies of 
 distinction and gentlemen of special attainments — 
 an unremitting pursuit of culture and information. 
 Curiosity is awake. The extreme of social refine- 
 
124: A IdtUe Journey in the World. 
 
 ment and a mild Bohemianism almost touch. It 
 passes beyond the affectation of knowing persons 
 who write books and write for the press, artists in 
 paint and artists in music. " You cannot be sure in 
 the most exclusive circle " — it was Carmen Eschelle 
 who said this — " that you will not meet an author 
 or even a journalist." Not all the women, however, 
 adore letters or affect enthusiasm at drawing-room 
 lectures; there are some bright and cynical ones 
 who do not, who write papers themselves, and have 
 an air of being behind the scenes. 
 
 Margaret had thought that she was fully occu- 
 pied in the country, with her teaching, her read- 
 ing, her literature and historical clubs, but she had 
 never known before what it was to be busy and not 
 have time for anything, always in pursuit of some 
 new thing, and getting a fragment here and there ; 
 life was a good deal like reading the dictionary and 
 remembering none of the words. And it was all 
 so cosmopolitan and all-embracingly sympathetic. 
 One day it was a paper by a Servian countess on 
 the social life of the Servians, absorbingly interest- 
 ing both in itself and because it was a countess who 
 read it ; and this was followed by the singing of an 
 Icelandic tenor and a Swedish soprano, and a re- 
 cital on the violin by a slight, red-haired, middle- 
 aged woman from London. All the talents seem 
 to be afloat and at the service of the strenuous ones 
 who are cultivating themselves. 
 
^SHi 
 
 A Little Journey in the WSld. 125 
 
 The first function at which. Margaret assisted in 
 the long drawing-rooms of the Arbusers was a se- 
 rious one — qne that combined the charm of culture 
 with the temptations of benevolence. The rooms 
 were crowded with the fashion of the town, with a 
 sprinkling of clergymen and of thin philanthropic 
 gentlemen in advanced years. It was a four-o'clock, 
 and the assembly had the cheerfulness of a recep- 
 tion, only that the display of toilets was felt to be 
 sanctified by a purpose. The performance opened 
 with a tremendous prelude on the piano by Herr 
 Bloomgarten, who had been Liszt's favorite pupil ; 
 indeed, it was whispered that Liszt had said that, 
 old as he was, he never heard Bloomgarten without 
 learning something. There was a good deal of sub- 
 dued conversation while the pianist was in his ex- 
 treme agony of execution, and a hush of extreme 
 admiration — it was divine, divine, ravishing — when 
 he had finished. 
 
 The speaker was a learned female pundit from 
 India, and her object was to interest the women of 
 America in the condition of their unfortunate Hin- 
 doo sisters. It appeared that thousands and tens 
 of thousands of them were, doomed to early and 
 life -long widowhood, owing to the operation of 
 cruel caste laws, which condemned even girls be- 
 trothed to deceased Brahmins to perpetual cehbacy. 
 This fate could only be alleviated by the education 
 and elevation of women. And money was needed 
 
126 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 for schools, especially for medical schools, which 
 would break down the walls of prejudice and en- 
 franchise the sex. The appeal was so charmingly 
 made that every one was moved by it, especially 
 the maiden ladies present, who might be supposed 
 to enter into the feelings of their dusky sisters be- 
 yond the seas. The speaker said, with a touch of 
 humor that always intensifies a serious discourse, 
 that she had been told that in one of the JS'ew Eng- 
 land States there was a superfluity of unmarried 
 women ; but this was an entirely different affair ; 
 it was a matter of choice with these highly edu- 
 cated and accomplished women. And the day had 
 come when woman could make her choice! At 
 this there was a great clapping of hands. It was 
 one thing to be free to lead a life of single self- 
 culture, and quite another to be compelled to lead 
 a single life without self-culture. The address was 
 a great success, and much enthusiasm spread abroad 
 for the cause of the unmarried women of India. 
 
 In the audience were Mrs. EscheUe and her 
 daughter. Margaret and Carmen were made ac- 
 quainted, and were drawn together by curiosity, 
 and perhaps by a secret feeling of repulsion. Car- 
 men was aU candor and sweetness, and absorbingly 
 interested in the women of India, she said. With 
 Margaret's permission she would come and see her, 
 for she believed they had common friends. 
 
 It would seem that there could not be much 
 
A Little Journey m the World. 127 
 
 Sympathy between natures so opposed, persons who 
 looked at life from such different points of view, 
 but undeniably Carmen had a certain attraction 
 for Margaret. The New Englander, whose climate 
 is at once his enemy and his tonic, always longs 
 for the tropics, which to him are a region of ro- 
 mance, as Italy is to the German. In his nature, 
 also, there is something easily awakened to the al- 
 lurements of a sensuous existence, and to a desire 
 for a freer experience of life than custom has al- 
 lowed him. Carmen, who showed to Margaret 
 only her best side — she would have been wise to 
 exhibit no other to Henderson, but women of her 
 nature are apt to cheapen themselves with men — 
 seemed an embodiment of that graceful gayety 
 and fascinating worldiness which make the world 
 agreeable. 
 
 One morning, a few days after the Indian func- 
 tion, Margaret was alone in her own cosey sitting- 
 room. Nothing was wanting that luxury could 
 suggest to make it in harmony with a beautiful 
 woman, nothing that did not flatter and please, or 
 nurse, perhaps, a personal sense of beauty, and im- 
 part that glow of satisfaction which comes when 
 ,the senses are adroitly ministered to. Margaret 
 had been in a mood that morning to pay extreme 
 attention to her toilet. The result was the perfec- 
 tion of simplicity, of freshness, of maiden purity, 
 enhanced by the touch of art. As she surveyed 
 
128 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 herself in the pier-glass, and noted the refined lines 
 of the morning-gown which draped but did not con- 
 ceal the more exquisite lines of her figure, and ad- 
 justed a rose in her bosom, she did not feel like a 
 Puritan, and, although she may not have noted the 
 fact, she did not look like one. It was not a look 
 of vanity that she threw into the mirror, or of spe- 
 cial self -consciousness ; in her toilet she had obeyed 
 only her instinct (that infallible guide in a woman 
 of refinement), and if she was conscious of any 
 emotion, it was of the stirring within her of the 
 deepest womanly nature. 
 
 In fact, she was restless. She flung herself into 
 an easy-chair before the fire, and took up a novel. 
 It was a novel with a religious problem. In vain 
 she tried to be interested in it. At home she would 
 have absorbed it eagerly; they would have dis- 
 cussed it ; the doubts and suggestions in it would 
 have assumed the deepest personal importance. It 
 might have made an era in her thoughtful country 
 life. Here it did not so appeal to her ; it seemed 
 unreal and shadowy in a life that had so much 
 more of action than of reflection in it. It was a 
 life fascinating and exciting, and profoundly unsat- 
 isfactory. Yet, after all, it was more really life 
 than that placid vegetation in the country. She 
 felt that in the whirl of only a few days of it — 
 operas, receptions, teas, readings, dances, dinners, 
 where everybody sparkled with a bewildering brill- 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 129 
 
 iancy, and yet from which one brought away noth- 
 ing but a sense of strain ; such gallantry, such com- 
 pliments, such an easy tossing about of every topic 
 under heaven ; such an air of knowing everything, 
 and not caring about anything very much ; so much 
 mutual admiration and personal satisfaction ! She 
 liked it, and perhaps was restless because she liked 
 it. To be admired, to be deferred to — ^was there 
 any harm in that ? Only, if one suffers admiration 
 to-day, it becomes a necessity to-morrow. She be- 
 gan to feel the influence of that life which will not 
 let one stand still for a moment. If it is not the 
 opera, it is a charity ; if it is not a lover, it is some 
 endowed cot in a hospital. There must be some- 
 thing going on every day, every hour. , 
 
 Yes, she was restless, and could not read. She 
 thought of Mr. Henderson. He had called for- 
 mally. She had seen him, here and there, again 
 and again. He had sought her out in all com- 
 panies ; his face had broken into a smile when he 
 met her ; he had talked with her lightly, gayly ; 
 she remembered the sound of his voice; she had 
 learned to know his figure in a room among a hun- 
 dred ; and she blushed as she remembered that she 
 had once or twice followed him with her eyes in 
 a throng. He was, to be sure, nothing to her ; but 
 he was friendly; he was certainly entertaining; 
 he was a part, somehow, of this easy-flowing life. 
 
 Mis s Eschelle was announced. Margaret begged 
 9 
 
130 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 that she would come up-stairs without ceremony. 
 The mutual taking-ia of the pretty street costume 
 and the pretty morning toilet was the work of a 
 moment — the photographer has invented no ma- 
 chine that equals a woman's eyes for such a pur- 
 pose. 
 
 " How dehghtful it is ! how altogether charm- 
 ing !" and Margaret felt that she was included with 
 the room in this admiration. " I told mamma that 
 I was coming to see you this morning, even if I 
 missed the Nestors' luncheon. I like to please my- 
 self sometimes. Mamma says I'm frivolous, but 
 do you know " — the girls were comfortably seated 
 by the fire, and Carmen turned her sweet face and 
 candid eyes to her companion — " I get dreadfully 
 tired of aU this going round and round. No, I 
 don't even go to the Indigent Mothers' Home ; it's 
 part of the same thing, but I haven't any gift that 
 way. Ah, you were reading — that novel." 
 
 "Yes; I was trying to read it; I intend to 
 read it." 
 
 " Oh, we have had it ! It's a little past now, but 
 it has been aU. the rage. Everybody has read it ; 
 that is, I don't know that anybody has read it, but 
 everybody has been talking about it. Of course 
 somebody must have read it, to set the thing 
 agoing. And it has been discussed to death, I 
 sometimes feel as if I had changed my religion 
 half a dozen times in a fortnight. But I haven't 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 131 
 
 heard anything about it for a week. "We have 
 taken up the Hindoo widows now, you know." 
 And the girl laughed, as if she knew she were talk- 
 ing nonsense. 
 
 " And you do not read much in the city ?" Mar- 
 garet asked, with an answering smile. 
 
 " Yes ; in the summer. That is, some do. There 
 is a reading set. I don't know that they read 
 much, but there is a reading set. You know, Miss 
 Debree, that when a book is published — really pub- 
 Mshed, as Mr. Henderson says — you don't need to 
 read it. Somehow it gets into the air and becomes 
 common property. Everybody hears the whole 
 thing. You can talk about it from a notice. Of 
 course there are some novels that one must read 
 in order to understand human nature. Do you 
 read French ?" 
 
 " Yes ; but not many French novels ; I cannot." 
 
 " Nor can I," said Carmen, with a sincere face. 
 " They are too realistic for me." She was at the 
 moment running over in her mind a " situation " in 
 a paper-covered novel turned down on her night- 
 stand. " Mr. Henderson says that everybody con- 
 demns the French novels, and that people praise 
 the novels they don't read." 
 
 " You know Mr. Henderson very well ?" 
 
 "Yes; we've known him a long time. He is 
 the only man I'm afraid of." 
 
 "Afraid of?" 
 
132 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 " Well, you know he is a sort of Club man : that 
 style of man provokes your curiosity, for you never 
 can tell how much such men know. It makes you 
 a httle uneasy." 
 
 Carmen was looking into the fire, as if abstract- 
 edly reflecting upon the nature of men in general, 
 but she did not fail to notice a slight expression of 
 pain on Margaret's face. 
 
 " But there is your Mr. Lyon — " 
 
 Margaret laughed. " You do me too much hon- 
 or. I think you discovered him first." 
 
 " Well, our Mr. Lyon." Carmen was still looking 
 into the fire. " He is such a good young man !" 
 
 Margaret did not exactly fancy this sort of com- 
 mendation, and she replied, with somewhat the 
 tone of defending him, "We all have the highest 
 regard for Mr. Lyon." 
 
 " Yes, and he is quite gone on Brandon, I assure 
 you. He intends to do a great deal of good in the 
 world. I think he spends half his time in New 
 York studying, he calls it, our charitable institu- 
 tions. Mamma reproaches me that I don't take 
 more interest in philanthropy. That is her world- 
 ly side. Everybody has a worldly side. I'm as 
 worldly as I can be" — this with a look of inno- 
 cence that denied the self - accusation — "but I 
 haven't any call to marry into Exeter Hall and 
 that sort of thing. That is what she means — dear 
 mamma. Are you High-Church or evangelical ?" 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 133 
 
 siie asked, after a moment, turning to Margaret, as 
 if the question were of the utmost importance. 
 
 Margaret explained that she was neither. 
 
 " Well, I am High-Church, and Mr. Lyon is evan- 
 gelical — Church evangelical. There couldn't be 
 any happiness, you know, without harmony in re- 
 ligious belief." 
 
 " I should think not," said Margaret, now quite 
 recovering herself. " It must be a matter of great 
 anxiety to you here." 
 
 Carmen was quick to note the change of tone, 
 and her face beamed with merriment as she rose. 
 
 "What nonsense I've been talking! I did not 
 intend to go into such deep things. Tou must not 
 mind what I said about Mr. (a little pause to read 
 Margaret's face) — Mr. Lyon. We esteem Mm as 
 much as you do. How charming you are looking 
 this morning! I wish I had your secret of not 
 letting this life tell on one." And she was gone 
 in a shower of compliments and smiles and caress- 
 ing ways. She had found out what she came to 
 find out. Mr. Henderson needs watching, she said 
 to herself. 
 
 The interview, as Margaret thought it over, was 
 amusing, but it did not raise her spirits. Was 
 everybody worldly and shallow? Was this the 
 sort of woman whom Mr. Henderson fancied? 
 Was Mr. Henderson the sort of man to whom such 
 a woman would be attracted ? 
 
IX. 
 
 It was a dinner party in one of the uptown 
 houses — palaces — that begin to repeat in size, spa- 
 ciousness of apartments, and decoration the splen- 
 dor of the Medicean merchant princes. It is the 
 penalty that we pay for the freedom of republican 
 opportunity that some must be very rich. This is 
 the logical outcome of the open chance for every- 
 body to be rich — and it is the surest way to dis- 
 tinction. In a free country the course must be run, 
 and it is by the accumulation of great wealth that 
 one can get beyond anxiety, and be at liberty to 
 indulge in republican simplicity. 
 
 Margaret and Miss Arbuser were ushered in 
 through a double row of servants in livery — short- 
 clothes and stockings — in decorous vacuity — an 
 array necessary to bring into relief the naturalness 
 and simphcity of the entertainers. Vulgarity, one 
 can see, consists in making one's self a part of the 
 display of wealth : the thing to be attained is per- 
 sonal simplicity on a background of the richest os- 
 tentation. It is diflRcult to attain this, and theory 
 says that it takes three generations for a man to 
 separate himself thus from his display. It was the 
 
A Little Jov/rney in the World. 135 
 
 tattle of the town that the first owner of the pict- 
 ures in the gallery of the Stott mansion used to 
 tell the prices to his visitors ; the third owner is 
 quite beyond remembering them. He might men- 
 tion, laughingly, that the ornamented shovel in the 
 great fireplace in the library was decorated by 
 Vavani — it was his wife's fancy. But ha did not 
 say that the cefiing in the music-room was" painted 
 by Pontifex Lodge, or that six Italian artists had 
 worked four years making the Corean room, every 
 inch of it exquisite as an intaglio — indeed, the re- 
 porters had made the town familiar with the cost- 
 ly facts. 
 
 The present occupants understood quite weU the 
 value of a background : the house swarmed with 
 servants — retainers, one might say. Margaret, 
 who was fresh from her history class, recalled the 
 days of Ehzabeth, when a man's importance was 
 gauged by the retinue of servitors and men and 
 women in waiting. And this is, after all, a better 
 test of wealth than a mere accumulation of things 
 and cost of decoration ; for though men and women 
 do not cost so much originally as good pictures — 
 that is, good men and women — everybody knows 
 that it needs more revenue to maintain them. 
 Though the dinner party was not large, there was 
 to be a dance afterwards, and for every guest was 
 provided a special attendant. 
 
 The dinner was served in the state dining-room, 
 
136 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 to which Mr. Henderson had the honor of con- 
 ducting Margaret. Here prevailed also the same 
 studied simpUcity. The seats were for sixteen. 
 The table went to the extremity of elegant plain 
 ness, no crowding, no confusion of colors under the 
 soft lights ; if there was ostentation anywhere, it 
 was in the dazzling fineness of the expanse of 
 table-linen, not in the few rare flowers, or the 
 crystal, or the plate, which was of solid gold, sim- 
 ply modest. The eye is pleased by this chastity — 
 pure whiteness, the glow of yellow, the slight touch 
 of sensuous warmth in the rose. The dinner was 
 in keeping, short, noiselessly served under the eye 
 of the maitre d^hdtel, few courses, few wines ; no 
 anxiety on the part of the host and hostess — per- 
 haps Just a little consciousness that everything was 
 simple and elegant, a little consciousness of the 
 background ; but another generation will remove 
 that. 
 
 If to Margaret's country apprehension the con- 
 versation was not quite up to the level of the din- 
 ner and the house — what except that of a circle of 
 wits, who would be out of place there, could be ? — 
 the presence of Mr. Henderson, who devoted him- 
 self to her, made the lack unnoticed. The talk ran, 
 as usual, on the opera, Wagner, a Christmas party 
 at Lenox, at Tuxedo, somebody's engagement, some 
 lucky hit in the Exchange, the irritating personali- 
 ties of thenewspapers, the last English season, the 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 137 
 
 marriage of the Duchess of Bolinbroke, a confiden- 
 tial disclosure of who would be in the Cabinet and 
 who would have missions, a jocular remark across 
 the table about a " corner " (it is impossible abso- 
 lutely here, as well as at a literary dinner, to sink 
 the shop), the Sunday opening of galleries — any- 
 thing to pass the hour, the ladies contributing most 
 of the vivacity and persiflage. 
 
 " I saw you, Mr. Henderson " — it was Mrs. La- 
 flamme raising her voice — " the other night in a 
 box with a very pretty woman." 
 
 "Yes— Miss :Eschelle." 
 
 " I don't know them. "We used to hear of them 
 in Naples, Yenice, various places ; they were in Eu- 
 rope some time, I believe. She was said to be very 
 entertaining — and enterprising." 
 
 "Well, I suppose they have seen something of 
 the world. The other lady was her mother. And 
 the man with us — that might interest you more, 
 Mrs. Laflamme — was Mr. Lyon, who will be the 
 Earl of Chisholm." 
 
 " Ah ! Then I suppose she has money ?" 
 
 " I never saw any painful evidence of poverty. 
 But I don't think Mr. Jiyon is fortune -hunting. 
 He seems to be after information and — good- 
 ness." 
 
 Margaret flushed a little, but apparently Hen- 
 derson did not notice it. Then she said (after Mrs. 
 Laflamme had dropped the subject with the remark 
 
138 A LitUe Journey in the World. 
 
 that he had come to the right place), " Miss Eschelle 
 called on me yesterday." 
 
 " And was, no doubt, agreeable." 
 
 " She was, as Mrs. Laflamme says, entertaining. 
 She quoted you a good deal." 
 
 " Quoted me ? For what ?" 
 
 "As one would a book, as a familiar authority." 
 
 "I suppose I ought to be flattered, if you will 
 excuse the street expression, to have my stock 
 quotable. Perhaps you couldn't tell whether Miss 
 EscheUe was a bull or a bear in this case ?" 
 
 " I don't clearly know what that is. She didn't 
 offer me any," said Margaret, in a tone of carrying 
 on the figure without any personal meaning. 
 
 " Well, she is a bit of an operator. A good many 
 women here amuse themselves a little in stocks." 
 
 " It doesn't seem to me very feminine." 
 
 " ISTo ? But women generally like to take risks 
 and chances. In countries where lotteries are es- 
 tablished they always buy tickets." 
 
 "Ah! then they only risk what they have. I 
 think women are more prudent and conservative 
 than men." 
 
 "No doubt. They are conservatives usually. 
 But when they do go in for radical measures and 
 risks, they leave us quite behind." Mr. Henderson 
 did not care to extend the conversation in this di- 
 rection, and he asked, abruptly, "Are you finding 
 New York agreeable, Miss Debree ?" 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 139 
 
 " Yes. Yes and no. One has no time to one's 
 self. Do you understand why it is, Mr. Hender- 
 son, that one can enjoy the whole day and then be 
 thoroughly dissatisfied with it ?" 
 
 " Perfectly ; when the excitement is over." 
 
 "And then I don't seem to be myself here. I 
 have a feeling of having lost myself." 
 
 " Because the world is so big ?" 
 
 " Not that. Do you know, the world seems much 
 smaller here than at home." 
 
 " And the city appears narrow and provincial ?" 
 
 " I cannot quite explain it. The interests of life 
 don't seem so large — the questions, I mean, what is 
 going on in Europe, the literature, the reforms, the 
 politics. I get a wider view when I stand off — at 
 home. I suppose it is more concentrated here. 
 And, oh dear, I'm so stupid ! Everybody is so alert 
 in little things, so quick to turn a compliment, and 
 say a bright thing.^ ^ While I am getting ready to 
 say what I reaUy think about Browning, for in- 
 stance, he is disposed of in a sentence." 
 
 " That is because you try to say what you reaUy 
 think." 
 
 " If one don't, what's the use of talk ?" 
 
 " Oh, to pass the time." 
 
 Margaret looked up to see if Henderson was se- 
 rious. There was a smile of amusement on his face, 
 but not at all offensive, because the woman saw that 
 it was a look of interest also. 
 
140 A Little Journey m the World. 
 
 " Then I sha'n't be serious any more," she said, 
 as there was a movement to quit the table. 
 
 " That lays the responsibility on me of being se- 
 rious," he replied, in the same light tone. 
 
 Later they were wandering through the picture- 
 gallery together. A gallery of modern pictures ap- 
 peals for the most part to the senses — represents 
 the pomps, the color, the allurements of life. It 
 struck Henderson forcibly that this gallery, which 
 he knew well, appeared very different looking at 
 it with Miss Debree from what it would if he had 
 been looking at it with Miss Eschelle. There were 
 some pictures that he hurried past, some technical 
 excellences — only used for sensuous efifects — that 
 he did not call attention to as he might have done 
 with another. Curiously enough, he found himself 
 seeking sentiment, purity. If the drawing was bad, 
 Margaret knew it ; if a false note was struck, she 
 saw it. But she was not educated up to a good 
 many of the suggestions of the gallery. Henderson 
 perceived this, and his manner to her became more 
 deferential and protective. It was a manner to 
 which every true woman responds, and Margaret 
 was happy, more herself, and talked with a freedom 
 and gayety, a spice of satire, and a note of reality 
 that made her every moment more attractive to her 
 companion. In her animation the charm of her un- 
 worn beauty blazed upon him with a direct person- 
 al appeal. He hardly cared to conceal his frank 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 141 
 
 admiration. She, on her part, was thinking, what 
 could Miss Eschelle mean by saying that she was 
 afraid of him ? 
 
 " Does the world seem any larger here, Miss De- 
 bree ?" he asked, as they had Ungeringly made the 
 circuit of the room and passed out through the trop- 
 ical conservatory to join the rest of the company. 
 
 " Yes — away from people." 
 
 " Then it is not numbers, I am glad to know, that 
 make a world." 
 
 She did not reply. But when he encountered 
 her, robed for departure, at the foot of the stair- 
 way, she gave him her hand in good-night, and 
 their eyes met for a moment. 
 
 I wonder if that was the time ? Probably not. 
 I fancy that when the right day came she confessed 
 that the moment was when she first saw him enter 
 their box at the opera. 
 
 Henderson walked down the avenue slowly, hear- 
 ing the echo of his own steps in the deserted street. 
 He was in no haste to reach home. It was such a 
 delightful evening — snowing a little, and cold, but so 
 exhilarating. He remembered just how she turned 
 her head as she got into the carriage. She had 
 touched his arm lightly once in the gaUery to call 
 his attention to a picture. Yes, the world was 
 larger, larger by one, and it would seem large — her 
 image came to him distinctly — if she were the only 
 one. 
 
142 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 Henderson was under the spell of this evening 
 when the next, in response to a note asking him to 
 call for a moment on business, he was shown into 
 the Eschelle drawing-room. It was dimly lighted, 
 but familiarity with the place enabled him without 
 difficulty to find his way down the long suite, rath- 
 er overcrowded with luxurious furniture, statuary, 
 and pictures on easels, to the little library at the 
 far end glowing in a rosy light. 
 
 There, ensconced in a big chair, a book in her 
 hand, one pretty foot on the fender, sat Carmen, 
 in a grayish, vaporous toilet, which took a warm 
 hue from the color of the spreading lamp-shades. 
 On the carved table near was a litter of books and 
 of nameless little articles, costly and coquettish, 
 which assert femininity, even in a literary atmos- 
 phere. Over the fireplace hung a picture of spring 
 — a budding girl, smiUng and winning, in a semi- 
 transparent raiment, advancing with swift steps to 
 bring in the season of flowers and of love. The 
 hand that held the book rested upon the arm of 
 the chair, a finger inserted in the place where she 
 had been reading, her rounded white arm visible to 
 the elbow, and Carmen was looking into the fire 
 in the attitude of reflection upon a suggestive pas- 
 sage. 
 
 "Women have so many forms of attraction, dif- 
 ferent women are attractive in so many different 
 ways, moods are so changing, beauty is so unde- 
 
A Little Journey in the World. . 143 
 
 finable, and has so many weapons. And yet men 
 are called inconstant ! 
 
 It was not until Henderson had time to take in 
 the warmth of this domestic picture that Carmen 
 rose. 
 
 " It is so good of you to come, with aU your en- 
 gagements. Mamma is excused with a headache, 
 but she has left me power of attorney to ask ques- 
 tions about our Kttle venture." 
 
 " I hope the attorney will not put me through a 
 cross-examination." 
 
 " That depends upon how you have been behav- 
 ing, Mr. Henderson. I'm not very cross yet. iN'ow, 
 sit there so that I can look at you and see how 
 honest you are." 
 
 " Do you want me to put on my business or my 
 evening expression?" 
 
 " Oh, the first, if you mean business." 
 
 " Well, your stocks are going up." 
 
 "That's nice. You are so lucky! Everything 
 goes up with you. Do you know what they say 
 of you?" 
 
 "Ifothing bad, I hope?" 
 
 " That everything you touch turns to gold. 
 That you wiU be one of the nabobs of New York 
 in ten years." 
 
 " That's a startling destiny." 
 
 " Isn't it ? I don't hke it." The girl seemed 
 very serious. "I'd like you to be distinguished. 
 
144 A Zittle Journey in the World. 
 
 To be in the Cabinet. To be minister — go to Eng- 
 land. But one needs a great deal of money for 
 that, to go as one ought to go. What a career is 
 open to a man in this country if he has money !" 
 
 " But I don't care for poKtics." 
 
 " Who does ? But position. You can afford 
 that if you have money enough. Do you know, 
 Mr. Henderson, I think you are dull." 
 
 " Thank you. I reckoned you'd find it out." 
 
 " The other night at the Nestor ball a lady — no, 
 I won't tell you who she is — asked me if I knew 
 who that man was across the room ; such an air 
 of distinction ; might be the new British Minister. 
 You know, I almost blushed when I said I did 
 know him." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " You see what people expect of you. When a 
 man looks distinguished and is clever, and knows 
 how to please if he likes, he cannot help having a 
 career, unless he is afraid to take the chances." 
 
 Henderson was not conscious of ever being want- 
 ing in this direction. The picture conjured up by 
 the ingenious girl was not unfamihar to his mind, 
 and he understood quite weU the relation to it that 
 Carmen had in her mind ; but he did not take the 
 lead offered. Instead, he took refuge in the usual 
 commonplace, and asked, "Wouldn't you like to 
 have been a man?" 
 
 " Heaven forbid ! I should be too wicked. It is 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 145 
 
 responsibility enough to be a woman. I did not 
 expect such a banality from you. Do you think, 
 Mr. Henderson, we had better sell ?" 
 
 "SeUwhat?" 
 
 " Our stocks. You are so occupied that I thought 
 they might fall when you are up in the clouds some- 
 where." 
 
 "]Sro, I shall not forget." 
 
 " "Well, such things happen. I might forget you 
 if it were not for the stocks." 
 
 " Then I shall keep the stocks, even if they fall." 
 
 " And we should both fall together. That would 
 be some compensation. Not much. Going to smash 
 with you would be something like going to church 
 with Mr. Lyon. It might have a steadying effect." 
 
 "What has come over you to-night, Carmen?" 
 Henderson asked, leaning forward with an expres- 
 sion of half amusement, half curiosity. 
 
 " I've been thinking — doesn't that astonish you ? 
 — about life. It is very serious. I got some new 
 views talking with that Miss Debree from Bran- 
 don. Chiefly from what she didn't say. She is 
 such a lovely girl, and just as unsophisticated — 
 well, as we are. I fear I shocked her by teUing 
 her your opinion of French novels." 
 
 " You didn't tell her that I approved of aU the 
 French novels you read ?" 
 
 " Oh no ! I didn't say you approved of any. It 
 sort of came out that you knew about them. She 
 10 
 
146 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 is so downright and conscientious. I declare I felt 
 virtuous shivers running all over me all the time I 
 was with her. I'm conscientious myself. I want 
 everybody to know the worst of me. I wish I 
 could practise some concealment. But she rather 
 discourages me. She would take the color out of 
 a career. She somehow doesn't allow for color, I 
 could see. Duty, duty — that is the way she looks 
 at hfe. She'd try to keep me up to it ; no playing 
 by the way. I liked her very much. I like people 
 not to have too much toleration. She would be 
 just the wife for some nice country rector." 
 
 " Perhaps I ought to tell her your plan for her ? 
 I dined with her last night at the Stotts'." 
 
 " Yes ?" Carmen had been wondering if he 
 would tell her of that. " Was it very dull ?" 
 
 "Not very. There was music, distant enough 
 not to interfere with conversation, and the gallery 
 afterwards." 
 
 "It must have been very exhilarating. You 
 talked about the Duchess of Bolinbroke, and the 
 opera, and Prince TaUejrrand, and the comer in 
 wheat — dear me, I know, so decorous ! And you 
 said Miss Debree was there ?" 
 
 " I had the honor of taking her out." 
 
 " Mr. Henderson " — ^the girl had risen to adjust 
 the lamp-shade, and now stood behind his chair 
 with her arm resting on it, so that he was obliged 
 to turn his head backward to see her — " Mr. Hen- 
 
A LitUe Journey in the World. 147 
 
 derson, do you know you are getting to be a des- 
 perate flirt ?" The laughing eyes looking into his 
 said that was not such, a desperate thing to do if 
 he chose the right object. 
 
 "Who taught me?" He raised his left hand. 
 She did not respond to the overture, except to snap 
 the hand with her index-finger, and was back in 
 her chair again, regarding him demurely. 
 
 " I think we shall go abroad soon." The little 
 foot was on the fender again, and the face had the 
 look of melancholy resolution. 
 
 "And leave Mr. Lyon without any protection 
 here ?" The remark was made in a tone of good- 
 humored raillery, but for some reason it seemed to 
 sting the girl. 
 
 "Pshaw!" she said. "How can you talk such 
 nonsense? Tou," and she rose to her feet in in- 
 dignation — "you to advise an American girl to 
 sell herself for a title — the chance of a title. I'm 
 ashamed of you !" 
 
 " Why, Carmen," he replied, flushing, " I advised 
 nothing of the sort. I hadn't the least idea. I 
 don't care a straw for Mr. Lyon." 
 
 " That's just it ; you don't care," sinking into her 
 seat, stiU unappeased. " I think I'll tell Mr. Lyon 
 that he wiU have occupation enough to keep him 
 in this country if he puts his money into that 
 scheme you were talking over the other night." 
 
 Henderson was in turn annoyed. " You can tell 
 
148 A Little Jowrney in the World. 
 
 him anything you hke. I'm no more responsi- 
 ble for his speculations than for his domestic con- 
 cerns." 
 
 "Now you are offended. It's not nice of you 
 to put me in the wrong when you know how im- 
 pulsive I am. I wish I didn't let my feelings run 
 away with me." This said reflectively, and look- 
 ing away from him. And then, turning towards 
 him with wistful, pleading eyes : " Do you know, I 
 sometimes wish I had never seen you. You have 
 so much power to mate a person very bad or very 
 good." 
 
 " Come, come," said Henderson, rising, " we 
 mustn't quarrel about an Enghshman — such old 
 friends." 
 
 " Yes, we are very old friends." The girl rose 
 also, and gave him her hand. " Perhaps that's the 
 worst of it. If I should lose your esteem I should 
 go into a convent!" She dropped his hand, and 
 snatching a bunch of violets from the table, fixed 
 them in his button-hole, looking up in his face with 
 vestal sweetness. " You are not offended ?" 
 
 " Not a bit ; not the least in the world," said 
 Henderson, heartily, patting the hand that still lin- 
 gered upon his lapel. 
 
 When he had gone. Carmen sank into her chair 
 with a gesture of vexation, and there were hard 
 lines in her sweet face. "What an insensible 
 stick !" Then she ran up-stairs to her mother, who 
 
A lAUle Journey in the World. 149 
 
 sat in her room reading one of the town weeklies, 
 into which some elderly ladies look for something 
 to coiidemn. 
 
 "WeU«" 
 
 " Such a stupid evening ! He is just absorbed in 
 that girl from Brandon. I told him we were going 
 abroad." 
 
 "Going abroad! You are crazy, child. New 
 York is forty times as amusing." 
 
 "And forty times as tiresome. I'm sick of it. 
 Mamma, don't you think it would be only civil to 
 ask Mr. Lyon to a quiet dinner before he goes ?" 
 
 " Certainly. That is what I said the other day. 
 I thought you — " 
 
 "Yes, I was ill-natured then. But I want to 
 please you. And we really ought to be civil." 
 
 One day is so like another in the city. Every 
 day something new, and the new the same thing 
 over again. And always the expectation that it 
 will be different to-morrow. Ifothing is so tire- 
 some as a kaleidoscope, though it never repeats 
 itself. 
 
 Fortunately there are two pursuits that never 
 pall — making money and making love. 
 
 Henderson had a new object in life, though the 
 new one did not sensibly divert him from the old ; 
 it rather threw a charming light over it, and made 
 the possibilities of it more attractive. In all his 
 
150 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 schemes lie found the thought of Margaret enter- 
 ing. "Why should it not have been Carmen? he 
 sometimes thought. She thoroughly understood 
 him. She would never stand in the way of his 
 most daring ambitions with any scruples. Her 
 conscience would never nag his. She would be 
 ambitious for a career for him. "Would she care 
 for him or the career ? How clever she was ! And 
 affectionate ? She would be if she had a heart. 
 
 He was not balancing the two. "What man ever 
 does, in fact? It was simply because Margaret 
 had a heart that he loved her, that she seemed nec- 
 essary to him. He was quite capable of making 
 a match for his advancement, but he felt strong 
 enough to make one for his own pleasure. And if 
 there are men so worldly as not to be attracted to 
 unworldliness in a woman, Henderson was not one 
 of them. If his heart had not dictated, his brain 
 would have told him the value of the sympathy of 
 a good woman. 
 
 He was a very busy man, in the thick of the 
 struggle for a great fortune. It did not occur 
 to him to reflect whether she "would approve aU 
 the methods he resorted to, but aU the women he 
 knew hked success, and the thought of her invig- 
 orated him. If she once loved him, she would ap- 
 prove what he did. 
 
 He saw much of her in those passing days — days 
 that went hke a dream to one of them at least. 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 151 
 
 He was a welcome guest at the Arbusers', but he 
 saw little of Margaret alone. It did not matter. 
 A chance look is a volume ; a word is a library. 
 They saw each other ; they heard each other. 
 And then passion grows almost as well in the ab- 
 sence as in the presence of the object. Imagina- 
 tion then has free play. A little separation some- 
 times will fan it into a flame. 
 
 The days went by, and Margaret's visit was 
 over. I am obliged to say that the leave-taking 
 was a gay one, as full of laughter as it was of 
 hope. Brandon was such a little way off. Hen- 
 derson often had business there. The Misses Ar- 
 buser said, " Of course." And Margaret said he 
 must not forget that she lived there. Even when 
 she bade her entertainers an affectionate good-bye, 
 she could not look very unhappy. 
 
 Spring was coming. That day in the cars there 
 were few signs of it on the road-side to be seen, 
 but the buds were swelling. And Margaret, neg- 
 lecting the book which lay on her lap, and looking 
 out the window, felt it in aU her veins. 
 
X. 
 
 It is said that the world is created anew for 
 every person who is in love. There is therefore 
 this constant miracle of a new heavens and a neAv 
 earth. It does not depend upon the seasons. The 
 subtle force which is in every human being, more 
 or less active, has this power, as if love were some- 
 how a principle pervading nature itself, and capa- 
 ble of transforming it. Is this a divine gift ? Can 
 it be used more than once ? Once spent, does the 
 world to each succeeding experimenter in it be- 
 come old and stale ? We say the world is old. In 
 one sense, the real sense to every person, it is no 
 older than the lives lived in it at any given time. 
 If it is always passing away, it is always being re- 
 newed. Every time a youth looks love in a maid- 
 en's eyes, and sees the timid appeahng return of 
 the universal passion, the world for those two is 
 ,just as certainly created as it was on the first 
 morning, in aU its color, odor, song, freshness, prom- 
 ise. This is the central mystery of life. 
 
 Unconsciously to herself, Margaret had worked 
 this miracle. Never before did the little town 
 look so bright; never before was there exactly 
 
A -Little Journey in the World. 153 
 
 such a color on the hills — sentiment is so pale com- 
 pared with love; never before did her home ap- 
 pear so sweet ; never before was there such a fine 
 ecstasy in the coming of spring. 
 
 For all this, home-coming, after the first excite- 
 ment of arrival is over, is apt to be dull. The 
 mind is so occupied with other emotions that the 
 friends even seem a little commonplace and unre- 
 sponsive, and the routine is tame. Out of such a 
 whirl of new experiences to return and find that 
 nothing has happened ; that the old duties and re- 
 sponsibilities are waiting ! Margaret had eagerly 
 leaped from the carriage to throw herself into her 
 aunt's arms — what a sweet welcome it is, that 
 of kin ! — and yet almost before the greeting was 
 over she felt alone. There was that in the affec- 
 tionate calmness of Miss Forsythe that seemed to 
 chill the glow and fever of passion in her new 
 world. And she had nothing to teU. Everything 
 had changed, and she must behave as if nothing 
 had happened. She must tak^ up her old fife — 
 the interests of the neighborhood. Even the little 
 circle of people she loved appeared distant from 
 her at the moment ; impossible it seemed to bring 
 them into the rushing current of her life. Their 
 joy in getting her back again she could not doubt, 
 nor the personal affection with which she was wel- 
 comed. But was the New England atmosphere a 
 little cold ? "What was the flavor she missed in it 
 
154 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 all? The next day a letter came. The excuse for 
 it was the return of a fan which Mr. Henderson 
 had carried off in his pocket from the opera. What 
 a wonderful letter it was — his handwriting, the 
 first note from him ! Miss Forsythe saw in it only 
 politeness. For Margaret it outweighed the town 
 of Brandon. It lay in her lap as she sat at her 
 chamber window looking out over the landscape, 
 which was beginning to be flushed with a pale 
 green. There was a robin on the lawn, and a 
 blackbird singing in the pine. " Go not, happy 
 day," she said, with tears in her eyes. She took 
 up the brief letter and read it again. Was he 
 really hers, " truly " ? And she answered the let- 
 ter, swiftly and with no hesitation, but with a 
 throbbing heart. It was a civil acknowledgment ; 
 that was all. Henderson might have read it aloud 
 in the Exchange. But what color, what charming 
 turns of expression, what of herself, had the girl 
 put into it, that gave him such a thriU of pleasure 
 when he read it ? What secret power has a wom- 
 an to make a common phrase so glow with her 
 very self ? 
 
 Here was something in her life that was her 
 own, a secret, a hope, and yet a tremulous anticipa- 
 tion to be guarded almost from herself. It colored 
 everything ; it was always, whatever she was do- 
 ing or saying, present, like an air that one un- 
 consciously hums for days after it has caught his 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 155 
 
 fancy. Blessed be the capacity of being fond and 
 foolish! If that letter was under her pillow at 
 night, if this new revelation was last in her 
 thought as she fell asleep, if it mingled with the 
 song of the birds in the spring morning, as some 
 great good pervading the world, is there anything 
 distinguishing in such an experience that it should 
 be dwelt on ? And if there were questionings and 
 little panics of doubt, did not these moments also 
 reveal Margaret to herself more certainly than the 
 hours of happy dreaming ? 
 
 Questionings no doubt there were, and, later, se- 
 rious questionings; for habit is almost as strong 
 as love, and the old ways of life and of thought 
 will reassert themselves in a thoughtful mind, and 
 reason will insist on analyzing ' passion and even 
 hope. 
 
 Gradually the home life and every-day interests 
 began to assume their natural aspect and propor- 
 tions. It was so sweet and sane, this home life, in- 
 teresting and not feverish. There was time for 
 reading, time for turning over things in the mind, 
 time for those interchanges of feeling and of ideas, 
 by the fireside ; she was not required to be always 
 on dress parade, in mind or person, always keyed 
 up to make an impression or receive one ; how 
 much wider and sounder was Morgan's view of the 
 world, allowing for his kindly cynicism, than that 
 prevalent in the talk where she had lately been ! 
 
156 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 How sincere and hearty and free ran the personal 
 currents in this little neighborhood ! In the very 
 fact that the daily love and afifection for her and 
 interest in her were taken for granted she realized 
 the difference between her position here and that 
 among newer friends who showed more open ad- 
 miration. 
 
 Little by little there was a readjustment. In 
 comparison, the city hfe, with its intensity of ac- 
 tion and feehng, began to appear distant, not so 
 real, mixed, turbid, even frivolous. And was Hen- 
 derson a vanishing part of this pageant ? "Was his 
 figure less distinct as the days went by ? It could 
 not be affirmed. Love is such a little juggler, and 
 likes, now and again, to pretend to be so reasona- 
 ble and judicious. There were no more letters. 
 If there had been a letter now and then, on any 
 excuse, the nexus would have been more distinct : 
 nothing feeds the flame exactly like a letter; it 
 has intention, personahty, secrecy. And the little 
 excitement of it grows. Once a week gets to be 
 twice a week, three times, four times, and then daily. 
 And then a day without a letter is such a blank, 
 and so full of fear ! What can have happened ? 
 Is he iU ? Has he changed ? The opium habit is 
 nothing to the letter habit — between lovers. Not 
 that Margaret expected a letter. Indeed, reason 
 told her that it had not gone so far as that. But 
 she should see him. She felt sure of that. And 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 157 
 
 the thought filled all the vacant places in her imag- 
 ination of the future. 
 
 And yet she thought she was seeing him more 
 clearly than when he was with her. Oh wise 
 young woman ! She fancied she was deliberating, 
 looking at life with great prudence. It must be 
 one's own fault if one makes a radical mistake in 
 marriage. She was watching the married peo- 
 ple about her with more interest — the Morgans, 
 our own household, Mrs. Fletcher ; and besides, her 
 aunt, whose even and cheerful life lacked this ex- 
 perience. It is so wise to do this, to keep one's 
 feelings in control, not to be too hasty ! Every- 
 body has these intervals of prudence. That is the 
 reason there are so few mistakes. 
 
 I dare say that aU these reflections and delib- 
 erations in the maidenly mind were almost un- 
 conscious to herself; certainly unacknowledged. 
 It was her imagination that she was following, 
 and scarcely a distinct- reality or intention. She 
 thought of Henderson, and he gave a certain per- 
 sonality, vivid maybe, to that dream of the fut- 
 ure which we all in youth indulge ; but she would 
 have shrunk from owning this even to herself. 
 "We deceive ourselves as often as we deceive oth- 
 ers. Margaret would have repudiated with some 
 warmth any intimation that she had lost her heart, 
 and was reaUy predicting the practical possibihties 
 of that loss, and she would have been quite honest 
 
158 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 with herself in thinking that she was still mistress 
 of her own feeling. Later on she would know, 
 and delight to confess, that her destiny was fixed 
 at a certain hour, at a certain moment, in New 
 York, for subsequent events would run back to 
 that like links in a chain. And she would have 
 been right and also wrong in that; for but for 
 those subsequent events the first impression would 
 have faded, and been taken little account of in 
 her life. I am more and more convinced that 
 men and women act more upon impulse and less 
 upon deep reflection and self-examination than the 
 analytic novelists would have us believe, duly 
 weighing motives and balancing considerations ; 
 and that men and women know themselves much 
 less thoroughly than they suppose they do. There 
 is a great deal of exaggeration, I am convinced, 
 about the inward struggles and self-conflicts. The 
 reader may know that Margaret was hopeless- 
 ly in love, because he knows everything ; but 
 that charming girl would have been shocked and 
 . wounded to the most indignant humiUation if she 
 had fancied that her friends thought that. Nay, 
 more, if Henderson had at this moment made by 
 letter a proposal for her hand, her impulse would 
 have been to repudiate the offer as unjustified by 
 anything that had taken place, and she would no 
 doubt have obeyed that impulse. 
 But something occurred, while she was in this 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 159 
 
 mood, that did not shook her maidenly self-con- 
 sciousness, nor throw her into antagonism, but 
 which did bring her face to face with a possible 
 reality. And this was simply the receipt of a let- 
 ter from Henderson ; not a love-letter — far enough 
 from that — ^but one in which there was a certain 
 tone and intention that the most inexperienced 
 would recognize as possibly serious. Aside from 
 the announcement in the letter, the very fact of 
 writing it was significant, conveying an intimation 
 that the reader might be interested in what con- 
 cerned the writer. The letter was longer than it 
 need have been, for one thing, as if the pen, once 
 started on its errand, ran on con amove. The 
 writer was coming to Brandon; business, to be 
 sure, was the excuse ; but why should it have been 
 necessary to announce to her a business visit? 
 There crept into the letter somehow a good deal 
 about his daily Ufe, linked, to be sure, with mention 
 of places and people in which she had recently an 
 interest. He had been in "Washington, and there 
 were slight sketches of well-known characters in 
 Congress and in the Government; he had been 
 in Chicago, and even as far as Denver, and there 
 were little pictures of scenes that might amuse 
 her. There was no special mystery about all this 
 travel and hurrying from place to place, but it 
 gave Margaret a sense of varied and large occupa- 
 tions that she did not understand. Through it all 
 
160 A Little Jov/rney in the World. 
 
 there was the personality that had been recently 
 so much in her thoughts. He was coming. That 
 was a very solid fact that she must meet. And 
 she did not doubt that he was coming to see her, 
 and soon. That was a definite and very different 
 idea from the dim belief that he would come some 
 time. He had signed himself hers " faithfully." 
 
 It was a letter that could not be answered like 
 the other one ; for it raised questions and pros- 
 pects, and the thousand doubts that make one hesi- 
 tate in any definite step ; and, besides, she pleased 
 herself to think that she did not know her own 
 mind. He had not asked if he might come; he 
 had said he was coming, and really there was no 
 answer to that. Therefore she put it out of her 
 mind — another curious mental process we have in 
 dealing with a matter that is all the time the sub- 
 stratum of our existence. And she was actually 
 serious ; if she was reflective, she was conscious of 
 being judicially reflective. 
 
 But in this period of calm and reflection it was 
 impossible that a woman of Margaret's habits and 
 temperament should not attempt to settle in her 
 mind what that life was yonder of which she had 
 a little taste ; what was the career that Henderson 
 had marked out for himself ; what were his prin- 
 ciples ; what were the methods and reasons of his 
 evident success. Endeavoring in her clear mind 
 to. separate the person, about whose personality she 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 161 
 
 was so fondly foolish, from his schemes, which she 
 so dimly comprehended, and applying to his some- 
 what hazy occupations her simple moral test, were 
 the schemes quite legitimate? Perhaps she did 
 not go so far as this; but what she read in the 
 newspapers of money-making in these days made 
 her secretly uneasy, and she found herself wishing 
 that he were definitely practising some profession, 
 or engaged in some one solid occupation. 
 
 In the little, parliament at our house, where ev- 
 erything, first and last, was overhauled and brought 
 to judgment, without, it must be confessed, any vis- 
 ible effect on anything, one evening a common "in- 
 cident" of the day started the conversation. It 
 was an admiring account in a newspaper of a brill- 
 iant operation by which three or four men had 
 suddenly become millionaires. 
 
 " I don't see," said my wife, " any mention in 
 this account of the thousands who have been re- 
 duced to poverty by this operation." 
 
 " No," said Morgan ; " that is not interesting." 
 
 " But it would be very interesting to me," Mrs. 
 Fletcher remarked. " Is there any protection, Mr. 
 Morgan, for people who have invested their little 
 property ?" 
 
 " Yes ; the law." 
 
 " But suppose your money is aU invested, say in 
 a railway, and something goes wrong, where are 
 you to get the money to pay for the law that will 
 11 
 
162 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 give you restitution? Is there anything in the 
 State, or pubUc opinion, or anywhere, that will 
 protect your interests against clever swindling ?" 
 
 " Not that I know of," Morgan admitted. " You 
 take your chance when you let your money go out 
 of your stocking. You see there are so many peo- 
 ple who want it. You can put it in the ground." 
 
 " But if I own the ground I put it in, the voters 
 who have no ground will tax it till there is nothing 
 left for me." 
 
 " That is equality." 
 
 "But it isn't equality, for somebody gets very 
 rich in railways or lands, while we lose our little 
 all. Don't you think there ought to be a pubhc 
 official whose duty it is to enforce the law gra- 
 tis which I cannot afford to enforce when I am 
 wronged ?" 
 
 "The difficulty is to discover whether you are 
 wronged or only unfortunate. It needs a lawyer 
 to find that out. And very likely if you are 
 wronged, the wrong -doer has so cleverly gone 
 round the law that it needs legislation to set you 
 straight, and that needs a lobbyist, whom the law- 
 yer must hire, or he must turn lobbyist himself. 
 Now, a lawyer costs money, and a lobbyist is one 
 of the most expensive of modern luxuries; but 
 when you have a lawyer and lobbyist in one, you 
 will find it economical to let him take your claim 
 and all that can be made out of it, and not bother 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 163 
 
 you any more about it. But there is no doubt 
 about the law, as I said. You can get just as much 
 law as you can pay for. It is like any other com- 
 modity." 
 
 " You mean to say," I asked, " that the lawyer 
 takes what the operator leaves?" 
 
 "Not exactly. There is a great deal of un- 
 reasonable prejudice against lawyers. They must 
 live. There is no nobler occupation than the ap- 
 plication of the principle of justice in human af- 
 fairs. The trouble is that public opinion sustains 
 the operator in his smartness, and estimates the 
 lawyer according to his adroitness. If we only 
 evoked the aid of a lawyer in a just cause, the law- 
 yers would have less to do. Usually and naturally 
 the best talent goes with the biggest fees." 
 
 " It seems to me," said my wife, musing along, 
 in her way, on parallel Knes, " that there ought to 
 be a Umit to the amount of property one man can 
 get into his absolute possession, to say nothing of 
 the methods by which he gets it." 
 
 " That never yet could be set," Morgan replied. 
 " It is impossible for any number of men to agree 
 on it. I don't see any line between absolute free- 
 dom of acquisition, trusting to circumstances, mis- 
 fortune, and death to knock things to pieces, and 
 absolute slavery, which is communism." 
 
 " Do you believe, Mr. Morgan, that any vast fort- 
 une was ever honestly come by ?" 
 
164 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 " That is another question. Honesty is such a 
 flexible word. If you mean a process the law can- 
 not touch, yes. If you mean moral consideration 
 for others, I doubt. But property accumulates by 
 itself almost. Many a man who has got a start 
 by an operation he would not like to have inves- 
 tigated, and which he tries to forget, goes on to be 
 very rich, and has a daily feeling of being more 
 and more honorable and respectable, using only 
 means which all the world calls fair and shrewd." 
 
 "Mr. Morgan," suddenly asked Margaret, who 
 had been all the time an uneasy listener to the 
 turn the talk had taken, " what is railroad wreck- 
 ing?" 
 
 " Oh, it is very simple, at least in some of its 
 forms. The ' wreckers,' as they are called, fasten 
 upon some railway that is prosperous, pays divi- 
 dends, pays a liberal interest on its bonds, and 
 has a surplus. They contrive to buy, no matter at 
 what cost, a controlling interest in it, either in its 
 stock or its management. Then they absorb its 
 surplus; they let it run down so that it pays no 
 dividends, and by-and-by cannot even pay its inter- 
 est ; then they squeeze the bondholders, who may 
 be glad to accept anything that is offered out of 
 the wreck, and perhaps then they throw the prop- 
 erty into the hands of a receiver, or consolidate 
 it with some other road at a value enormously 
 greater than the cost to them in stealing it. Ilav- 
 
A lAltle Journey in the World. 165 
 
 ing in one way or another sucked it dry, they look 
 round for another road." 
 
 " And all the people who first invested lose their 
 money, or the most of it ?" 
 
 " Naturally, the little fish get swallowed." 
 
 "It is infamous," said Margaret — "infamous! 
 And men go to work to do this, to get other peo- 
 ple's property, in cool blood V 
 
 " I don't know how cool, but it is in the way of 
 business." 
 
 "What is the difference between that and get- 
 ting possession of a bank and robbing it ?" she ask- 
 ed, hot with indignation. 
 
 " Oh, one is an operation, and the other is em- 
 bezzlement." 
 
 "It is a shame. How can people permit it? 
 Suppose, Mrs. Fletcher, a wrecker should steal your 
 money that way ?" 
 
 " I was thinking of that." 
 
 I never saw Margaret more disturbed — out of 
 all proportion, I thought, to the cause ; for we had 
 talked a hundred times about such things. 
 
 " Do you think aU men who are what you call 
 operating around are hke that ?" she asked. 
 
 " Oh no," I said. " Probably most men who are 
 engaged in what is generally called speculation are 
 doing what seems to them a perfectly legitimate 
 business. It is a common way of making a fort- 
 une." 
 
166 A LitUe Journey in the World. 
 
 " You see, Margaret," Morgan explained, " when 
 people in trade buy anything, they expect to sell it 
 for more than they gave for it." 
 
 " It seems to me," Margaret replied, more calmly, 
 " that a great deal of what you men call business 
 is just trying to get other people's money, and 
 doesn't help anybody or produce anything." 
 
 " Oh, that is keeping up the circulation, prevent- 
 ing stagnation." 
 
 "And that is the use of brokers in grain and 
 stocks ?" 
 
 "Partly. They are commonly the agents that 
 otliers use to keep themselves from stagnation." 
 
 "I cannot see any good in it," Margaret persist- 
 ed. " No one seems to have the things he buys or 
 sells. I don't understand it." 
 
 " That is because you are a woman, if you will 
 pardon me for saying it. Men don't need to have 
 things in hand; business is done on faith and 
 credit, and when a transaction is over, they settle 
 up and pay the difference, without the trouble of 
 transporting things back and forth." 
 
 " I know you are chaffing me, Mr. Morgan. But 
 I should call that betting." 
 
 " Oh, there is a risk in everything you do. Eut 
 you see it is reaUy paying for a difference of 
 knowledge or opinion." 
 
 " Would you buy stocks that way ?" 
 
 "What way?" 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 167 
 
 ""Why, agreeing to pay for your difference of 
 opinion, as you call it, not really having any stock 
 at aU." 
 
 "I never did. But I have bought stocks and 
 sold them pretty soon, if I could make anything by 
 the sale. All merchants act on that principle." 
 
 " "Well," said Margaret, dimly seeing the sophis- 
 try of this, " I don't understand business morahty." 
 
 " Nobody does, Margaret. Most men go by the 
 law. The Golden Eule seems to be suspended by 
 a more than two-thirds vote." 
 
 It was by such inquiries, leading to many talks 
 of this sort, that Margaret was groping in her 
 mind for the solution of what might become to 
 her a personal question. Consciously she did not 
 doubt Henderson's integrity or his honor, but she 
 was perplexed about the world of which she had 
 recently had a glimpse, and it was impossible to 
 separate him from it. Subjected to an absolute- 
 ly new experience, stirred as her heart had never 
 been before by any man — a fact which at once ir- 
 ritated and pleased her — she was following the 
 law of her own nature, while she was still her own 
 mistress, to ponder these things and to bring her 
 reason to the guidance of her f eehng. And it is 
 probable that she did not at all know the strength 
 of her feehng, or have any conception of the real 
 power of love, and how little the head has to do 
 with the great passion of life, the intensity of 
 
168 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 wMch the poets have never in the least exagges=- 
 ated. If she thought of Mr. Lyon occasionally, of 
 his white face and pitiful look of suffering that 
 day, she could not, after all, make it real or per- 
 manently serious. Indeed, she was sure that no 
 emotion could so master her. And yet she look- 
 ed forward to Henderson's coming with a sort of 
 nervous apprehension, amounting almost to dread. 
 
XL 
 
 It -was the susceptible time of the year for 
 plants, for birds, for maids : all innocent natural 
 impulses respond to the subtle influence of spring. 
 One may well gauge his advance in selfishness, 
 worldhness, and sin by his loss of this annual sus- 
 ceptibility, by the failure of this sweet appeal to 
 touch his heart. One must be very far gone if 
 some note of it does not for a moment bring back 
 the tenderest recollections of the days of joyous 
 innocence. 
 
 Even the city, with its mass of stone and brick, 
 rectangles, straight lines, dust, noise, and fever of 
 activity, is pen'etrated by this divine suggestion of 
 the renewal of hfe. You can scarcely open a win- 
 dow without letting in a breath of it ; the south 
 wind, the twitter of a sparrow, the rustle of leaves 
 in the squares, the smell of the earth and of some 
 struggling plant in the area, the note of a distant 
 hand-organ softened by distance, are begetting a 
 longing for youth, for green fields, for love. As 
 Carmen walked down the avenue with Mr. Lyon 
 on a spring morning she almost made herself be- 
 lieve that an unworldly life with this simple- 
 
170 A Little Journey in the Wm'ld. 
 
 hearted gentleman — when he should come into his 
 title and estates — would be more to her liking than 
 the most brilliant success in place and power with 
 Henderson. Unfortunately the spring influence 
 also suggested the superior attractiveness of the 
 only man who had ever taken her shallow fancy. 
 And unfortunately the same note of nature sug- 
 gested to Mr. Lyon the contrast of this artificial 
 piece of loveliness with the domestic hfe of which 
 he dreamed. 
 
 As for Margaret, she opened her heart to the 
 spring without reserve. It was May. The soft 
 maples had a purple tinge, the chestnuts showed 
 color, the apple-trees were in bloom (aU the air was 
 fuU of their perfume), the blackbirds were chatter- 
 ing in convention in the tall oaks, the bright leaves 
 and the flowering shrubs were alive with the twit- 
 ■ tering and singing of darting birds. The soft, fleecy 
 clouds, hovering as over a world jusl created, seem- 
 ed to make near and participant in the scene the 
 delicate blue of the sky. Margaret — I remember 
 the morning — ^was standing on her piazza, as I 
 passed through the neighborhood drive, with a 
 spray of apple - blossoms in her hand. Tor the 
 moment she seemed to embody all the maiden 
 purity of the scene, all its promise. I said, laugh- 
 ing, 
 
 " "We shall have to have you painted as spring." 
 "But spring isn't painted at aU," she rephed, 
 
A LitUe Journey in the World. 171 
 
 holding up the apple-blossoms, and coming down 
 the piazza with a dancing step. 
 
 "And so it won't last. "We want something per- 
 manent," I was beginning to say, when a carriage 
 passed, going to our house. " I think that must be 
 Henderson." 
 
 "Ah!" she exclaimed. Her sunny face clouded 
 at once, and she turned to go in as I hurried away. 
 
 It was Mr. Henderson, and there was at least 
 pretence enough of business to occupy us, with Mr. 
 Morgan, the greater part of the day. It was not 
 till late in the afternoon that Henderson appeared 
 to remember that Margaret was in the neighbor- 
 hood, and spoke of his intention of calling. My 
 wife pointed out the way to him across the grounds, 
 and watched him leisurely walking among the trees 
 till he was out of sight. 
 
 "What an agreeable man Mr. Henderson is!" 
 she said, turning to me; "most companionable; 
 and yet — and yet, my dear, I'm glad he is not ray 
 husband. You suit me very well." There was an 
 air of conviction about this remark, as if it were the 
 result of deep reflection and comparison, and it was 
 emphasized by the little possessory act of readjust- 
 ing my necktie — one of the most subtle of female 
 flatteries. 
 
 " But who wanted him to be your husband ?" I 
 asked. " Married women have the oddest habit of 
 going about the world picking out the men they 
 
172 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 would not like to have married. Do they need 
 continually to justify themselves ?" 
 
 " No ; they congratulate themselves. You never 
 can understand." 
 
 " I confess I cannot. My first thought about an 
 attractive vroman whose acquaintance I make is 
 not that I am glad I did not marry her." 
 
 " I dare say not. You are aU inconsistent, you 
 men. But you are the least so of any man in the 
 world, I do believe." 
 
 It would be difficult to say whether the spring 
 morning seemed more or less glorious to Margaret 
 when she went in-doors, but its serenity was gone. 
 It was like the premonition in nature of a change. 
 She put the apple blossoms in water and placed the 
 jug on the table, turning it about half a dozen 
 times, moving her head from side to side to get the 
 effect. When it was exactly right, she said to her 
 aunt, who sat sewing in the bay-window, in a per- 
 fectly indifferent tone, " Mr. Fairchild just passed 
 here, and said that Mr. Henderson had come." 
 
 "Ah !" Her aunt did not lift her eyes from her 
 work, or appear to attach the least importance to 
 this tremendous piece of news. Margaret was an- 
 noyed at what seemed to her an assumed indiffer- 
 ence. Her nerves were quivering with the knowl- 
 edge that he had arrived, that he was in the next 
 house, that he might be here any moment — the man 
 who had entered into her whole life — and the an- 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 173 
 
 nouncement was no more to her aunt than if she 
 had said it rained. She was provoked at herself 
 that she should be so disturbed, yes, annoyed, at 
 his proximity. She wished he had not come — not 
 to-day, at any rate. She looked about for some- 
 thing to do, and began to rearrange this and that 
 trifle in the sitting-room, which she had perfectly 
 arranged once before in the morning, moving about 
 here and there in a rather purposeless manner, un- 
 til her aunt looked up and for a moment followed 
 her movements till Margaret left the room. In her 
 own chamber she sat by the open window and tried 
 to think, but there was no orderly mental process ; 
 in vain she tried to run over in her mind the past 
 month and all her reflections and wise resolves. 
 She heard the call of the birds, she inhaled the 
 odor of the new year, she was conscious of aU that 
 was gracious and inviting in the fresh scene, but in 
 her sub-consciousness there was only one thought 
 — he was there, he was coming. She took up her 
 sewing, but the needle paused in the stitch, and she 
 found herself looking away across the lawn to the 
 hills ; she took up a book, but the words had no 
 meaning, read and reread them as she would. He 
 is there, he is coming. And what of it ? Why 
 should she be so disturbed? She was, uncommit- 
 ted, she was mistress of her own actions. Had she 
 not been coolly judging his conduct ? She despised 
 herself for being so nervous and unsettled. If he 
 
174r A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 was coming, why did he not come ? Why was he 
 waiting so long ? She arose impatiently and went 
 down-stairs. There was a necessity of doing some- 
 thing. 
 
 "Is there anything that you want from town, 
 auntie ?" 
 
 " Nothing that I know of. Are you going in ?" 
 
 " No, unless you have an errand. It is such a 
 fine day that it seems a pity to stay in-doors." 
 
 " "Well, I would walk if I were you." But she 
 did not go ; she went instead to her room. He 
 might come any moment. She ought not to run 
 away; and yet she wished she were away. He 
 said he was coming on business. Was it not, then, 
 a pretence? She felt humiliated in the idea of 
 waiting for him if the business were not a pre- 
 tence. 
 
 How insensible men are ! What a mere subordi- 
 nate thing to them in life is the love of a woman ! 
 Yes, evidently business was more important to him 
 than anything else. He must know that she was 
 waiting ; and she blushed to herself at the very 
 possibility that he should think such a thing. She 
 was not waiting. It was lunch-time. She excused 
 herself. In the next moment she was angry that 
 she had not gone down as usual. It was time for 
 him to come. He would certainly come immedi- 
 ately after lunch. She would not see him. She 
 hoped never to see him. She rose in haste, put on 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 175 
 
 her hat, put it on carefully, turning and returning 
 before the glass, selected fresh gloves, and ran 
 down-stairs. 
 
 " I'm going, auntie, for a walk to town." 
 
 The walk was a long one. She came back tired. 
 It was late in the afternoon. Her aunt was quietly 
 reading. She needed to ask her nothing : Mr. Hen- 
 derson had not been there. Why had he written 
 to her ? 
 
 " Oh, the Fairchilds want us to come over to 
 dinner," said Miss Forsythe, without looking up. 
 
 " I hope you will go, auntie. I sha'n't mind be- 
 ing alone." 
 
 " Why ? It's perfectly informal. Mr. Henderson 
 happens to be there." 
 
 " I'm too stupid. But you must go. Mr. Hen- 
 derson, in New York, expressed the greatest desire 
 to make your acquaintance." 
 
 Miss Forsythe smiled. " I suppose he has come 
 up on purpose. But, dear, you must go to chaperon 
 me. It would hardly be civil not to go, when you 
 knew Mr. Henderson in New York, and the Fair- 
 childs want to make it agreeable for him." 
 
 "Why, auntie, it is just a business visit. I'm too 
 tired to make the effort. It must be this spring 
 weather." 
 
 Perhaps it was. It is so unfortunate that the 
 spring, which begets so many desires, brings the 
 languor that defeats their execution. But there is 
 
176 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 a limit to the responsibility even of spring for a 
 woman's moods. Just as Margaret spoke she saw, 
 through the open window, Henderson coming across 
 the lawn, walking briskly, but evidently not inat- 
 tentive to the charm of the landscape. It was his 
 springy step, his athletic figure, and, as he came 
 nearer, the joyous anticipation in his face. And it 
 was so sudden, so unexpected — the vision so long 
 looked for !. There was no time for flight, had she 
 wanted to avoid him; he was on the piazza; he 
 was at the open door. Her hand went quickly to 
 her heart to still the rapid flutter, which might be 
 from pain and might be from joy — she could not 
 tell. She had imagined their possible meeting so 
 many times, and it was not at all like this. She 
 ought to receive him coldly, she ought to receive 
 him kindly, she ought to receive him indifferently. 
 But how real he was, how handsome he was ! If 
 she could have obeyed the impulse of the moment 
 I am not sure but she would have fled, and cast her- 
 self face downward somewhere, and cried a little 
 and thanked God for him. He was in the room. 
 In his manner there was no hesitation, in his ex- 
 pression no uncertainty. His face beamed with 
 pleasure, and there was so much open admiration 
 in his eyes that Margaret, conscious of it to her 
 heart's core, feared that her aunt would notice it. 
 And she met him calmly enough, frankly enough. 
 The quickness with which a woman can pull her- 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 177 
 
 self together under such circumstances is testimony 
 to her superior fibre. 
 
 " I've been looking across here ever since morn- 
 ing," he said, as soon as the hand-shaking and in- 
 troduction were over, " and I've only this minute 
 been released." There was no air of apology in this, 
 but a delicate intimation of impatience at the delay. 
 And stUl, what an unconscious brute a man is ! 
 
 " I thought perhaps you had returned," said Mar- 
 garet, " until my aunt was just teUing me we were 
 asked to dine with you." 
 
 Henderson gave her a quick glance. "Was it pos- 
 sible she thought he could go away without seeing 
 her? 
 
 " Yes, and I was commissioned to bring you over 
 when you are ready." 
 
 " I win not keep you waiting long, Mr. Hender- 
 son," interposed Miss Forsythe, out of the good- 
 ness of her heart. " My niece has been taking a 
 long walk, and this debihtating spring weather — " 
 
 " Oh, since the sun has gone away, I think I'm 
 quite up to the exertion, since you wish it, auntie " 
 —a speech that made Henderson stare again, 
 wholly unable to comprehend the reason of an in- 
 direction which he could feel — he who had been all 
 day impatient for this moment. There was a little 
 talk about the country and the city at this season, 
 mainly sustained by Miss Forsythe and Henderson, 
 and then he was left alone. 
 12 
 
178 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 " Of course you should go, Margaret," said her 
 aunt, as they went up-stairs ; " it would not be at 
 all the thing for me to leave you here. And what 
 a fine, manly, engaging fellow Mr. Henderson is !" 
 
 " Yes, he acts very much like a man ;" and Mar- 
 garet was gone into her room. 
 
 Go ? There was not force enough in the com- 
 monwealth, without calling out the militia, to keep 
 Margaret from going to the dinner. She stopped 
 a moment in the middle of her chamber to think. 
 She had aknost forgotten how he looked — ^his eyes, 
 his smile. Dear me ! how the birds were singing 
 outside, and how fresh the world was ! And she 
 would not hurry. He could wait. JSTo doubt he 
 would wait now any length of time for her. He 
 was in the house, in the room below, perhaps look- 
 ing out of the window, perhaps reading, perhaps 
 spying about at her knick-knacks — she would hjje 
 to look in at the door a moment to see what he was 
 doing. Of course he was here to see her, and all 
 the business was a pretext. As she sat a moment 
 upon the edge of her bed reflecting what to put on; 
 she had a little pang that she had been doing him 
 injustice in her thought. But it was only for an 
 instant. He was here. She was not in the least 
 flurried. Indeed, her mental processes were never 
 clearer than when she settled upon her simple toi- 
 let, made as it was in every detail with the sure 
 instinct of a woman who dresses for her lover. 
 
A lAttte Journey in the World. 179 
 
 Heavens ! what a miserable day it had been, what 
 a rebeUious day ! He ought to be punished for it 
 somehow. Perhaps the rose she put in her hair 
 was part of the punishment. But he should not see 
 how happy she was ; she would be civil, and just a 
 little reserved; it was so like a man to make a 
 woman wait aU day and then think he could smooth 
 it all over simply by appearing. 
 
 But somehow in Henderson's presence these lit- 
 tle theories of conduct did not apply. He was too 
 natural, direct, unaffected, his pleasure in being with 
 her was so evident ! He seemed to brush aside the 
 little defences and subterfuges. There was this 
 about him that appeared to her admirable, and in 
 contrast with her own hesitating indirection, that 
 whatever he wanted — money, or position, or the 
 love of woman — he went straight to his object with 
 unconsciousness that failure was possible. Even in 
 walking across the grounds in the soft sunset light, 
 and chatting easily, their relations seemed estab- 
 lished on a most natural basis, and Margaret found 
 herself giving way to the simple enjoyment of the 
 hour. She was not only happy, but her spirits rose 
 to inexpressible gayety, which ran into the humor 
 of badinage and a sort of spiritual elation, in which 
 all things seemed possible. Perhaps she recognized 
 in herself what Henderson saw in her. And with it 
 all there was an access of tenderness for her aunt, the 
 dear thing whose gentle life appeared so colorless. 
 
180 A Little Jov/rney in the World. 
 
 I had never seen Margaret so radiant as at the 
 dinner ; her high spirits infected the table, and the 
 listening and the talking were of the best that the 
 company could give. I remembered it afterwards, 
 not from anything special that was said, but from 
 its flow of high animal spirits, and the electric, re. 
 sponsive mood every one was in ; no topic carried 
 too far, and the chance notes of seriousness setting 
 off the sparkling comments on affairs. Hender- 
 son's talk had the notable flavor of direct contact 
 with life, and very little of the speculative and re- 
 flective tone of Morgan's, who was always general- 
 izing and theorizing about it. He had just come 
 from the West, and his off-hand sketches of men 
 had a special cynicism, not in the least condemna- 
 tory, mere good-natured acceptance, and in contrast 
 to Morgan's moralizing and rather pitying cynicism. 
 It struck me that he did not beheve in his fellows 
 as much as Morgan did ; but I fancied that Marga- 
 ret only saw in his attitude a tolerant knowledge 
 of the world. 
 
 "Are the people on the border as bad as they are 
 represented ?" she asked. 
 
 " Certainly not much worse than they represent 
 themselves," he replied ; " I suppose the difference 
 is that men feel less restraint there." 
 
 "It is something more than that," added Mor- 
 gan. " There is a sort of drift-wood of adventure 
 and devil-may-care-ism that civilization throws in 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 181 
 
 advance of itself ; but that isn't so bad as the slag 
 it manufactures in the cities." 
 
 " I remember you said, Mr. Morgan, that men go 
 "West to get rid of their past," said Margaret. 
 
 "As New Yorkers go to Europe to get rid of 
 their future?" Henderson inquired, catching the 
 phrase. 
 
 " Yes " — ^Morgan turned to Margaret — " doubt- 
 less there is a satisfaction sometimes in placing the 
 width of a contiaent between a man and what 
 he has done. I've thought that one of the most 
 popular verses in the Psalter, on the border, must 
 be the one that says — you will know if I quote it 
 right — ' Look how wide also the East is from the 
 West ; so far hath He set our sins from us.' " 
 
 "That is dreadful," exclaimed Margaret. "To 
 think of you spending your time in the service 
 picking out passages to fit other people !" 
 
 " It sounds as if you had manufactured it," was 
 Henderson's comment. 
 
 " No ; that quiet Mr. Lyon pointed it out to me 
 when we were talking about Montana. He had 
 been there." 
 
 " By-the-way, Mr. Henderson," my wife asked, 
 " do you know what has become of Mr. Lyon ?" 
 
 " I believe he is about to go home." 
 
 " I fancied Miss Eschelle might have soniething 
 to say about that," Morgan remarked. 
 
 " Perhaps, if she were asked. But Mr. Lyon 
 
182 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 appeared rather indifferent to American attrac- 
 tions." 
 
 Margaret looked quickly at Henderson as he said 
 this, and then ventured, a little slyly, " She seemed 
 to appreciate his goodness." 
 
 " Yes ; Miss EscheUe has an eye for goodness." 
 
 This was said without change of countenance, 
 but it convinced the listener that Carmen was un- 
 derstood. 
 
 "And yet," said Margaret, with a little air of te- 
 merity, " you seem to be very good friends." 
 
 " Oh, she is very charitable ; she sees, I suppose, 
 what is good in me ; and I'U spare you the trouble 
 of remarking that she must necessarily be very 
 sharp-sighted." 
 
 " And I'm not going to destroy your illusion by 
 telling you her real opinion of you," Margaret re- 
 torted. 
 
 Henderson begged to know what it was, but Mar- 
 garet evaded the question by new raillery. What 
 did she care at the moment what Carmen thought 
 of Henderson ? What did either of them care what 
 they were saying, so long as there was some per- 
 sonal flavor in the talk ! Was it not enough to talk 
 to each other, to see each other ? 
 
 As we sat afterwards upon the piazza with our 
 cigars, inhaling the odor of the apple blossoms, and 
 yielding ourselves, according to our age, to the in- 
 fluence of the mild night, Margaret was in the high 
 
A lAttle Journey in the World. 183 
 
 spirits which accompany the expectation of bliss, 
 without the sobering effect of its responsibihty. 
 Love itself is very serious, but the overture is full 
 of freakish gayety. And it was all gayety that 
 night. "We all constituted ourselves a guard of 
 honor to Miss Forsythe and Margaret when they 
 went to their cottage, and there was a merry 
 leave-taking in the moonlight. To be sure, Mar- 
 garet walked with Henderson, and they lagged a 
 little behind, but I had no reason to suppose that 
 they were speaking of the stars, or that they raised 
 the ordinary question of their being inhabited. I 
 doubt if they saw the stars at aU. How one re- 
 members httle trifles, that recur hke the gay bird 
 notes of the opening scenes that are repeated in 
 the tragedy of the opera ! I can see Margaret now, 
 on some bantering pretext, running back, after we 
 had said good-night, to give Henderson the blush- 
 rose she had worn in her hair. How charming the 
 girl was in this freakish action ! 
 
 "Do you think he is good enough for her?" 
 asked my wife, when we were alone. 
 
 " Who is good enough for whom ?" I said, a yawn 
 revealing my want of sentiment. 
 
 " Don't be stupid. You are not so blind as you 
 pretend." 
 
 " Well, if I am not so blind as I pretend, though 
 I did not pretend to be blind, I suppose that is 
 mainly her concern." 
 
184 A lAttle Journey in the World. 
 
 " But I wish she had oared for Lyon." 
 
 "Perhaps Lyon, did not care for her," I sug- 
 gested. 
 
 "You never see anything. Lyon was a noble 
 fellow." 
 
 " I didn't deny that. But how was I to know 
 about Lyon, my dear ? I never heard you say that 
 you were glad he wasn't your husband." 
 
 " Don't be silly. I think Henderson has very se- 
 rious intentions." 
 
 " I hope he isn't frivolous," I said. 
 
 "Well, you are. It isn't a joking matter — and 
 you pretend to be so fond of Margaret !" 
 
 " So that is another thing I pretend ? What do 
 ' you want me to do ? Which one do you want me 
 to make my enemy by telling him or her that the 
 other isn't good enough ?" 
 
 " I don't want you to do anything, except to be 
 reasonable, and sympathize." 
 
 " Oh, I sympathize aU round. I assure you I've 
 no doubt you are quite right." And in this way I 
 crawled out of the discussion, as usual. 
 
 What a pretty simile it is, comparing life to a 
 river, because rivers are so different ! There are 
 the calm streams that flow eagerly from the youth- 
 ful sources, join a kindred flood, and go placidly to 
 the sea, only broadening and deepening and get- 
 ting very muddy at times, but without a rapid or a 
 fall. There are others that flow carelessly in the 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 185 
 
 upper sunshine, begin to ripple and dance, then run 
 swiftly, and rush into rapids in which there is no 
 escape (though friends stand weeping and implor- 
 ing on the banks) from the awful plunge of the 
 cataract. Then there is the tumult and the seeth- 
 ing, the exciting race and rage through the canon, 
 the whirlpools and the passions of love and revela- 
 tions of character, and finally, let us hope, the hap- 
 py emergence into the lake of a serene life. And 
 the more interesting rivers are those that have tu- 
 mults and experiences. 
 
 I knew well enough before the next day was over 
 that it was too late for the rescue of Margaret or 
 Henderson. They were in the rapids, and would 
 have rejected any friendly rope thrown to draw 
 them ashore. And notwithstanding the doubts of 
 my wife, I confess that I had so much sympathy 
 with the genuineness of it that I enjoyed this shock 
 of two strong natures rushing to their fate. "Was it 
 too sudden ? Do two hving streams hesitate when 
 they come together? When they join they join, 
 and mingle and reconcile themselves afterwards. 
 It is only canals that flow languidly in parallel 
 lines, and meet, if they meet at all, by the orderly 
 contrivance of a lock. 
 
 In the morning the two were off for a stroll. 
 .There is a hill from which a most extensive pros- 
 pect is had of the city, the teeming valley, with a 
 score of villages and innumerable white spires, of 
 
186 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 forests and meadows and broken mountain ranges. 
 It was a view that Margaret the night before had 
 promised to show Henderson, that he might see 
 what to her was the loveliest landscape in the 
 world. "Whether they saw the view I do not know. 
 But I know the rock from which it is best seen, and 
 could fancy Margaret sitting there, with her face 
 turned towards it and her hands folded in her lap, 
 and Henderson sitting, half turned away from it, 
 looking in her face. There is an apple orchard just 
 below. It was in bloom, and all the invitation of 
 spring was in the air. That he saw all the glorious 
 prospect reflected in her mobile face I do not doubt 
 — all the nobility and tenderness of it. If I knew 
 the faltering talk in that hour of growing confi- 
 dence and expectation, I would not repeat it. 
 
 Henderson lunched at the Forsythe's, and after 
 lunch he had some talk with Miss Forsythe. It 
 must have been of an exciting nature to her, for, 
 immediately after, that good woman came over in 
 a great flutter, and was closeted with my wife, who 
 at the end of the interview had an air of mysterious 
 importance. It was evidently a woman's day, and 
 my advice was not wanted, even if my presence was 
 tolerated. All I heard my wife say through the 
 opening door, as the consultation ended, was, "I 
 hope she knows her own mind fully before any- 
 thing is decided." 
 
 As to the objects of this anxiety, they were upon 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 187 
 
 the veranda of the cottage, quite unconscious of the 
 necessity of digging into their own minds. He M^as 
 seated, and she was leaning against the railing on 
 which the honeysuckle climbed, puUing a flower in 
 pieces. 
 
 " It is such a short time I have known you," she 
 was saying, as if in apology for her own feeling. 
 
 " Yes, in one way ;" and he leaned forward, and 
 broke his sentence with a httle laugh. " I think 
 I must have known you in some' pre -existent 
 state." 
 
 "Perhaps. And yet, in another way, it seems 
 long — a whole month, you know." And the girl 
 laughed a little in her turn. 
 
 " It was the longest month I ever knew, after 
 you left the city.'-' 
 
 "Was it? I oughtn't to have said that first. 
 But do you know, Mr. Henderson, you seem totally 
 different from any other man I ever knew." That 
 this was a profound and original discovery there 
 could be no doubt, from the conviction with which 
 it was announced. "I felt from the first that I 
 could trust you." 
 
 " I wish " — and there was genuine f eehng in the 
 tone — " I were worthier of such a generous trust." 
 
 There was a wistful look in her face — timidity, 
 self -depreciation, worship — as Henderson rose and 
 stood near her, and she looked up while he took the 
 broken flower from her hand. There was but one 
 
188 A LitUe Journey in the World. 
 
 answer to this, and in spite of the open piazza and 
 the all-observant, all-reveahng day, it might have 
 been given ; but at the moment Miss Forsythe was 
 seen hurrying towards them through the shrub- 
 bery. She came straight to where they stood, with 
 an air of New England directness and determina- 
 tion. One hand she gave to Henderson, the other 
 to Margaret. She essayed to speak, but tears were 
 in her eyes, and her lips trembled ; the words would 
 not come. She regarded them for an instant with 
 , all the overflowing affection of a quarter of a cen- 
 tury of repression, and then quickly turned and 
 went in. In a moment they followed her. Heaven 
 go with them ! 
 
 After Henderson had made his hasty adieus at 
 our house and gone, before the sun was down, Mar- 
 garet came over. She came swiftly into the room, 
 gave me a kiss as I rose to greet her, with a de- 
 lightful impersonality, as if she owed a debt some- 
 where and must pay it at once — we men who are 
 so much left out of these affairs have occasionally 
 to thank Heaven for a merciful moment— -seized 
 my wife, and dragged her to her room. 
 
 " I couldn't wait another moment," she said, as 
 she threw herself on my wife's bosom in a passion 
 of tears. " I am so happy ! he is so noble, and I 
 love him so!" And she sobbed as if it were the 
 greatest calamity in the world. And then, after a 
 little, in reply to a question — for women are never 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 189 
 
 more practical than in such a crisis : " Oh no — 
 not for a long, long, long time. JSTot before au- 
 tumn." 
 
 And the girl looked, through her glad tears, as if 
 she expected to be admired for this heroism. And 
 I have no doubt she was. 
 
xn. 
 
 TVell, that was another success. The world is 
 round, and hke a ball seems swinging in the air, 
 and swinging very pleasantly, thought Henderson, 
 as he stepped on board the train that evening. The 
 world is truly what you make it, and Henderson 
 was determined to make it agreeable. His philos- 
 ophy was concise, and might be hung up as a mot- 
 to : Get aU you can, and don't fret about what you 
 cannot get. 
 
 He went into the smoking compartment, and sat 
 musing by the window for some time before he lit 
 his cigar, feeling a glow of happiness that was new 
 in his experience. The country was charming at 
 twilight" but he was little conscious of that. "What 
 he saw distinctly was Margaret's face, trustful and 
 wistful, looking up into his as she bade him good- 
 by. What he was vividly conscious of was being 
 followed, enveloped, by a woman's love. 
 
 " You will write, dear, the moment you get there, 
 win you not? I am so afraid of accidents," she 
 had said. 
 
 " "Why, I wiU telegraph, sweet," he had replied, 
 quite gayly. 
 
A. LiiUe Journey in the World. 191 
 
 " Will you ? Telegraph ? I never had that sort 
 of a message." It seemed a very wonderful thing 
 that he should use the public wire for this purpose, 
 and she looked at him with new admiration. 
 
 " Are you timid about the train ?" he asked. 
 
 " No. I never think of it. I never thought of 
 it for myself; but this is different." 
 
 "Oh, I see." He put his arm round her and 
 looked down into her eyes. This was a humorous 
 suggestion to him, who spent half his time on the 
 trains. "I think I'll take out ah accident pol- 
 icy." 
 
 " Don't say that. But you men are so reckless. 
 Promise you won't stand on the platform, and 
 won't get off while the train is in motion, and all 
 the rest of the directions," she said, laughing a lit- 
 tle with him ; " and you will be careful ?" 
 
 " I'U take such care of myself as I never did be- 
 fore, I promise. I never felt of so much conse- 
 quence in my life." 
 
 "You'll think me silly. But you know, don't 
 you, dear ?" She put a hand on each shoulder, and 
 pushing him back, studied his face. " You are all 
 the world. And only to think, day before yester- 
 day, I didn't think of the trains at all." 
 
 To have one look like that from a woman ! To 
 carry it with him ! Henderson still forgot to light 
 his cigar. 
 
 "Hello, Eodney!" 
 
192 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 " Ah, HoUowell ! I thought you were in Kansas 
 City." 
 
 The new-comer was a man of middle age, thick 
 set, with rounded shoulders, deep chest, heavy neck, 
 iron-gray hair close cut, gray whiskers cropped so 
 as to show his strong jaw, blue eyes that expressed 
 at once resolution and good-nature. 
 
 " "Well, how's things ? Been up to fix the Legis- 
 latui-e ?" 
 
 "No; Perkins is attending to that," said Hen- 
 derson, rather indifferently, like a man awakened 
 out of a pleasant dream. "Don't seem to need 
 much fixing. The public are fond of parallels." 
 
 HoUoweU laughed. " I guess that's so — tiU they 
 get 'em." 
 
 " Or don't get them," Henderson added. And 
 then both laughed. 
 
 " It looks as if it would go through this time. 
 Bemis says the C. D.'s badly scared. They'll have 
 to come down lively." 
 
 "I shouldn't wonder. By-the-way, look in to- 
 morrow. I've got something to show you." 
 
 Henderson lit his cigar, and they both puffed in 
 silence for some moments. 
 
 " By-the-way, did I ever show you this ?" Hol- 
 loweU took from his breast-pocket a handsome 
 morocco case, and handed it to his companion. "J 
 never travel without that. It's better than an ac- 
 cident policy." 
 
A. Little Journey m the World. 193 
 
 Henderson unfolded the case, and saw seven pho- 
 tographs — a showy-looking handsome woman in 
 lace and jewels, and six children, handsome like 
 their mother, the whole group with the photo- 
 graphic look of prosperity. 
 
 Henderson looked at it as if it had been a mirror 
 of his own destiny, and expressed his admiration. 
 
 "Yes, it's hard to beat," HoUowell confessed, 
 with a soft look in his face. " It's not for sale. 
 Seven figures wouldn't touch it." He looked at it 
 lovingly before he put it up, and then added: 
 " "Well, there's a figure for each, Eodney, and a big 
 nest-egg for the old woman besides. There's noth- 
 ing like it, old man. You'd better come in." And 
 he put his hand affectionately on Henderson's knee. 
 
 Jeremiah HoUowell — commonly known as Jerry 
 — was a remarkable man. Thirty years ago he had 
 come to the city from Maine as a "hand" on a 
 coast schooner, obtained employment in a railroad 
 yard, then as a freight conductor, gone West, be- 
 come a contractor, in which position a lucky hit 
 set him on the road of the unscrupulous accumula- 
 tion of property. He was now a railway magnate, 
 the president of a system, a manipulator of dexter- 
 ity and courage. AU. this would not have come 
 about if his big head had not been packed with 
 common-sense brains, and he had not had uncom- 
 mon win and force of character. Success had de- 
 veloped the best side of him, the family side ; and 
 13 
 
194 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 the worst side of him — a brutal determination to 
 increase his big fortune. He was not hampered by 
 any scruples in business, but he had the good-sense 
 to deal squarely with his friends when he had dis- 
 tinctly agreed to do so. 
 
 Henderson did not respond to the matrimonial 
 suggestion ; it was not possible for him to vulgarize 
 his own affair by hinting it to such a man as Hol- 
 lowell ; but they soon feU into serious talk about 
 schemes in which they were both interested. This 
 talk so absorbed Henderson that after they had 
 reached the city he had walked some blocks tow- 
 ards his lodging before he recalled his promise 
 about the message. On his table he found a note 
 from Carmen bidding him to dinner informally — an 
 invitation which he had no difficulty in declining 
 on account of a previous engagement. And then 
 he went to his club, and passed a cheerful evening. 
 Why not ? There was nothing melancholy about 
 the young fellows in the smoking-room, who liked 
 a good story and the latest gossip, and were at- 
 tracted to the society of Henderson, who was open- 
 handed and full of animal spirits, and above all 
 had a reputation for success, and for being on the 
 inside of afifairs. There is nowhere else so much 
 wisdom and such understanding of life as in a city 
 club of young fellows, who have their experience 
 stiU, for the most part, before them. Henderson 
 was that night in great "force" — as the phrase 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 195 
 
 is. His companions thought he had made a luclcy 
 turn, and he did not tell them that he had won the 
 love of the finest girl in the world, who was at 
 that moment thinking of him as fondly as he was 
 thinking of her — but this was the subconsciousness 
 of his gayety. Late at night he wrote her a long 
 letter — an honest letter of love and admiration, 
 which warmed into the tenderness of devotion as it 
 went on ; a letter that she never parted with all 
 her life long ; but he left a description of the lone- 
 liness of his evening without her to her imagina- 
 tion. 
 
 It was for Margaret also a happy evening, but 
 not a calm one, and not gay. She was swept away 
 by a flood of emotions. She wanted to be alone, 
 to think it over, every item of the short visit, 
 every look, every tone. "Was it all true ? The great 
 change made her tremble : of the future she dared 
 scarcely think. She was restless, but not restless 
 as before ; she could not be calm in such a great 
 happiness. And then the wonder of it, that -he 
 should choose her of aU others — he who knew the 
 world so weU, and must have known so many 
 women. She followed him on his journey, think- 
 ing what he was doing now, and now, and now. 
 She would have given the world to see him just for 
 a moment, to look in his eyes and be sure again, to 
 have him say that little word once more : there 
 was a kind of pain in her heart, the separation was 
 
196 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 so cruel ; it had been over two hours now. More 
 than once in the evening she ran down to the sit- 
 ting-room, where her aunt was pretending to be 
 absorbed in a book, to kiss her, to pet her, to 
 smooth her grayish hair and pat her cheek, and 
 get her to talk about her girlhood days. She was 
 so happy that tears were in her eyes half the time. 
 At nine o'clock there was a pull at the bell that 
 threatened to drag the wire out, and an insignifi- 
 cant little urchin appeared with a telegram, which 
 frightened Miss Forsythe, and seemed to Margaret 
 to drop out of heaven. Such an absurd thing to do 
 at night, said the aunt, and then she kissed Mar- 
 garet, and laughed a little, and declared that things 
 had come to a queer pass when people made love 
 by telegraph. There wasn't any love in the tele- 
 gram, Margaret said; but she knew better — the 
 sending word of his arrival was a marvellous exhi- 
 bition of thoughtfulness and constancy. 
 
 And then she led her aunt on to talk of Mr. 
 Henderson, to give her impression, how he looked, 
 what she really thought of him, and so on, and so 
 on. There was not much to say, but it could be 
 said over and over again in various ways. It was 
 the one night of the world, and her overwrought 
 feeling sought reUef . It would not be so again. She 
 would be more reticent and more coquettish about 
 her lover, but now it was all so new and strange. 
 
 That night when the girl went to sleep the tele- 
 
A lAUle Journey in the World. 197 
 
 gram was under her pillow, and it seemed to 
 throb with a thousand messages, as if it felt the 
 pulsation of the current that sent it. 
 
 The prospective marriage of the budding million- 
 aire Eodney Henderson was a society paper item 
 in less than a week — the modern method of pub- 
 Ushing the banns. This was accompanied by a 
 patronizing reference to the pretty school-ma'am, 
 who was complimented upon her good -fortune in 
 phrases so neatly turned as to give Henderson the 
 greatest offence, and leave him no remedy, since 
 nothing could have better suited the journal than 
 further notoriety. He could not remember that 
 he had spoken of it to any one except the Eschelles, 
 to whom his relations made the communication a 
 necessity, and he suspected Carmen, without, how- 
 ever, guessing that she was a habitual purveyor of 
 the town gossiper. 
 
 " It is a shameful impertinence," she burst out, 
 introducing the subject herseK, when he called to 
 see her. "I would horsewhip the editor." Her 
 indignation was so genuine, and she took his side 
 with such warm good comradeship, that his suspi- 
 cions vanished for a moment. 
 
 ""What good?" he answered, cooling down at 
 the sight of her rage. " It is true, we are to be 
 married, and she has taught school. I can't drag 
 her name into a row about it. Perhaps she never 
 wUl see it." 
 
198 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 "bh dear! dear me! what have I done?" the 
 girl cried, with an accent of contrition. " I never 
 thought of that. I was so angry that I cut it out 
 and put it in the letter that was to contain nothing 
 but congratulations, and told her how perfectly 
 outrageous I thought it. How stupid !" and there 
 was a world of trouble in her big dark eyes, while 
 she looked up penitently, as if to ask his forgive- 
 ness for a great crime. 
 
 "Well, it cannot be helped," Henderson said, 
 with a little touch of sympathy for Carmen's grief. 
 " Those who know her wiU think it simply mali- 
 cious, and the others wiU not think of it a second 
 time." 
 
 " But I cannot forgive myself for my stupidity. 
 I'm not sure but I'd rather you'd think me wicked 
 than stupid," she continued, with the smile in her 
 eyes that most men found attractive. " I confess 
 — is that very bad ? — that I feel it more for you 
 than for her. But " (she thought she saw a shade 
 in his face) " I warn you, if you are not very nice, 
 I shall transfer my affections to her." 
 
 The girl was in her best mood, with the manner 
 of a confiding, intimate friend. She talked about 
 Margaret, but not too much, and a good deal more 
 about Henderson and his future, not laying too 
 great stress upon the marriage, as if it were, in 
 fact, only an incident in his career, contriving al- 
 ways to make herself appear as a friend, who 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 199 
 
 hadn't many illusions or much romance, to ber sure, 
 but who could always be relied on in any mood or 
 any perplexity, and wouldn't be frightened or very 
 severe at any confidences. She posed as a woman 
 who could make allowances, and whose friendship 
 would be no check or hinderance. This was con- 
 veyed in manner as much as in words, and put 
 Henderson quite at his ease. He was not above 
 the weakness ot liking the comradeship of a wom- 
 an of whom he was not afraid, a woman to whom 
 he could say anything, a woman who could make 
 allowances. Perhaps he was hardly conscious of 
 this. He knew Carmen better than she thought 
 he knew her, and he couldn't approve of her as a 
 wife; and yet the fact was that she never gave 
 him any moral worries. 
 
 " Yes," she said, when the talk drifted that way, 
 " the chrysahs earl has gone. I think that mam- 
 ma is quite inconsolable. She says she doesn't un- 
 derstand girls, or men, or anything, these days." 
 
 " Do you ?" asked Henderson, lightly. 
 
 " I ? ISTo. I'm an agnostic — except in religion. 
 Have you got it into your head, my friend, that I 
 ever fancied Mr. Lyon ?" 
 
 "Not for himself — " began Henderson, mischiev- 
 ously. 
 
 "That will do." She stopped him. "Or that 
 h© ever had any intention — " 
 
 " I don't see how he could resist such — " 
 
200 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 "Stuff! See here, Mr. Eodney!" The girl 
 sprang up, seized a plaque from the table, held it 
 aloft in one hand, took half a dozen fascinating, 
 languid steps, advancing and retreating with the 
 grace of a Nautch girl, holding her dress with the 
 other hand so as to allow a free movement. " Do 
 you think I'd ever do that for John the Lyon's 
 head on a charger ?" 
 
 Then her mood changed to the domestic, as she 
 threw herself into an easy-chair and said: "After 
 all, I'm rather sorry he has gone. He was a man 
 you could trust ; that is, if you wanted to trust 
 anybody. I wish I had been made good." 
 
 "When Henderson bade her good-night it was 
 with the renewed impression that she was a very 
 diverting comrade. 
 
 " I'm sort of sorry for you," she said, and her 
 eyes were not so serious as to offend, as she gave 
 him her hand, " for when you are married, you 
 know, as the saying is, you'll want some place to 
 spend your evenings." The audacity of the remark 
 was quite obscured in the innocent frankness and 
 sweetness of her manner. 
 
 What Henderson had to show HoUowell in his 
 office had been of a nature greatly to interest that 
 able financier. It was a project that would have 
 excited the sympathy of Carmen, but Henderson 
 did not speak of it to her — though he had found 
 that she was a safe deposit of daring schemes in 
 
A Little Jov/mey in the World. 201 
 
 general — on account of a feeling of loyalty to Mar- 
 garet, to whom he had never mentioned it in any 
 of his daily letters. The scheme made a great 
 deal of noise, later on, when it came to the light of 
 consummation in legislatures and in courts, both 
 civil and criminal ; but its magnitude and success 
 added greatly to Henderson's reputation as a bold 
 and fortunate operator, and gave him that consid- 
 eration which always attaches to those who com- 
 mand millions of money, and have the nerve to go 
 undaunted through the most trying crises. I am 
 anticipating by saying that it absolutely ruined 
 thousands of innocent people, caused wide-spread 
 strikes and practical business paralysis over a large 
 region; but those things were regarded as only 
 incidental to a certain sort of development, and 
 did not impair the business standing, and rather 
 helped the social position, of the two or three men 
 who counted their gains by millions in the opera- 
 tion. It furnished occupation and gave good fees 
 to a multitude of lawyers, and was dignified by the 
 anxious consultation of many learned judges. A 
 moralist, if he were poor and pessimistic, might 
 have put the case in a line, and taken that line 
 from the Mosaic decalogue (which was not intend- 
 ed for this new dispensation) ; but it was involved 
 in such a cloud of legal technicalities, and took on 
 such an aspect of enterprise and development of 
 resources, and what not, that the general public 
 
202 A lAttle Journey in the World. 
 
 mind was completely befogged about it. I am 
 charitable enough to suppose that if the scheme 
 had failed, the public conscience is so tender that 
 there would have been a question of Henderson's 
 honesty. But it did not fail. 
 
 Of this scheme, however, we knew nothing at 
 the time in Brandon. Henderson was never in 
 better spirits, never more agreeable, and it did not 
 need inquiry to convince one that he was never so 
 prosperous. He was often with us, in flying visits, 
 and I can well remember that his coming and the 
 expectation of it gave a kind of elation to the 
 summer — that and Margaret's supreme and sunny 
 happiness. Even my wife admitted that it was on 
 both sides a love-match, and could urge nothing 
 agafnst it except the woman's instinct that made 
 her shrink from the point of ever thinking of him 
 as a husband for herself, which seemed to me a 
 perfectly reasonable feeling under all the circum- 
 stances. 
 
 The summer — or what we call summer in the 
 North, which is usually a preparation for warm 
 weather, ending in a preparation for cold weather 
 — seemed to me very short — but I have noticed 
 that each summer is a little shorter than the pre- 
 ceding one. If Henderson had wanted to gain the 
 confidence of my wife he could not have done so 
 more effectually than he did in making us the con- 
 fidants of a little plan he had in the city, which 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 203 
 
 was a profound secret to the party most concerned. 
 This was the purchase and furnishing of a house, 
 and we made many clandestine visits with him to 
 town in the early autumn in furtherance of his 
 plan. He was intent on a httle surprise, and when 
 I once hinted to him that women hked to have a 
 hand in making the home they were to occupy, he 
 said he thought that my wife knew Margaret's 
 taste — and besides, he added, with a smile, " it will 
 be only temporary ; I should like her, if she chooses, 
 to build and furnish a house to suit herself." In 
 any one else this would have seemed like assump- 
 tion, but with Henderson it was only the simple 
 behef in his career. 
 
 "We were still more surprised when we came to 
 see the temporary home that Henderson had se- 
 lected, the place where the bride was to ahght, and 
 look about her for such a home as would suit her 
 growing idea of expanding fortune and position. 
 It was one of the old-fashioned mansions on Wash- 
 ington Square, built at a time when people attached 
 more importance to room and comfort than to out- 
 side display — a house that seemed to have tradi- 
 tions of hospitality and of serene family life. It was 
 being thoroughly renovated and furnished, with as 
 Mttle help from the decorative artist and the splen- 
 did upholsterer as consisted with some regard to 
 public opinion ; in fact the expenditure showed in 
 solid dignity and luxurious ease, and not in the 
 
204 A Little Joitrney in the World. 
 
 construction of a museum in which one could only 
 move about with the constant fear of destroying 
 something. My wife was given almost carte 
 llanche in the indulgence of her taste, and she con- 
 fessed her delight in being able for once to deal 
 with a house without the f eehng that she was ruin- 
 ing me. Only in the suite designed for Margaret 
 did Henderson seriously interfere, and insist upon 
 a luxury that almost took my wife's breath away. 
 She opposed it on moral grounds'. She said that 
 no true woman could stand such pampering of her 
 senses without destruction of her moral fibre. 
 But Henderson had his way, as he always had it. 
 What pleased her most in the house was the con- 
 servatory, opening out from the drawing-room — a 
 spacious place with a fountain and cool vines and 
 flowering plants, not a tropical hot-house in a sti- 
 fling atmosphere, in which nothing could live ex- 
 cept orchids and flowers born near the equator, 
 but a garden with a temperature adapted to human 
 lungs, where one could sit and enjoy the sunshine, 
 and the odor of flowers, and the clear and not too 
 incessant notes of Mexican birds. But when it 
 was aU done, undoubtedly the most agreeable room 
 in the house was that to which least thought had 
 been given, the room to which any odds and ends 
 could be sent, the room to which everybody gravi- 
 tated when rest and simple enjoyment without re- 
 straint were the object — Henderson's own hbrary, 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 205 
 
 with its big open fire, and. the books and belong- 
 ings of his bachelor days. Man is usually not 
 credited with much taste or abiUty to take care of 
 himself in the matter of comfortable living, but it 
 is frequently noticed that when woman has made 
 a dainty paradise of every other portion of the 
 house, the room she most enjoys, that from which 
 it is difficult to keep out the family, is the one that 
 the man is permitted to call his own, in which he 
 retains some of the comforts and can indulge some 
 of the habits of his bachelor days. There is an 
 important truth in this fact with regard to the 
 sexes, but I do not know what it is. 
 
 They were married in October^ and went at 
 once to their own house. I suppose all other days 
 were but a preparation for this golden autumn day 
 on which we went to church and returned to the 
 wedding-breakfast. I am sure everybody was 
 happy. Miss Forsythe was so happy that tears 
 were in her eyes half the time, and she bustled 
 about with an affectation of cheerfulness that was 
 almost contagious. Poor, dear, gentle lady! lean 
 imagine the sensations of a peach-tree, in an or- 
 chard of trees which bud and bloom and by-and-by 
 are weighty with yellow fruit, year after year — 
 a peach-tree that blooms, also, but never comes to 
 fruition, only wastes its delicate sweetness on the 
 air and finally blooms less and less, but feels never- 
 
206 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 theless in eaoli returning spring the stir of the sap 
 and the longing for that fuller life, while all the 
 orchard bursts into flower, and the bees swarm 
 about the pink promises, and the fruit sets and 
 slowly matures to lusciousness in the sun of July. 
 I fancy the wedding, which robbed us aU, was 
 hardest for her, for it was in one sense a finality of 
 her hfe. Whereas if Margaret had regrets — and 
 deep sorrow she had in wrenching herself from the 
 Mttle neighborhood, though she never could have 
 guessed the vacancy she caused by the withdrawal 
 of her loved presence — her own life was only just 
 beginning, and she was sustained by the longing 
 which every human soul has for a new career, by 
 the curiosity and imagination which the traveller 
 feels when he departs for a land which he desires, 
 and yet dreads to see lest his illusions should van- 
 ish. Margaret was about to take that journey in 
 the world which Miss Forsythe had dreamed of in 
 her youth, but had never set out on. There are 
 some who say that those are happiest who keep at 
 home and content themselves with reading about 
 the lands of the imagination. But happily the 
 world does not believe this, and indeed would be 
 very unhappy if it could' not try and prove all the 
 possibilities of human nature, to suffer as well as to 
 enjoy. 
 
 I do not know how we feU into the feeling that 
 this marriage was somehow exceptional and im- 
 
A lAttle Journey in the World. 207 
 
 portant, since marriages take place every day, and 
 are so common and ordinarily so commonplace, 
 when the first flutter is over. Even Morgan said, 
 in his wife's presence, that he thought there had 
 been weddings enough ; at least he would inter- 
 dict those that upset things like this one. For one 
 thing, it brought about the house-keeping union of 
 Mrs. Fletcher and Miss Forsythe in the latter's 
 cottage — a sort of closing up of the ranks that 
 happens on the field during a fatal engagement. 
 As we go on it becomes more and more difficult to 
 fill up the gaps. 
 
 "We were very unwilling to feel that Margaret 
 had gone out of our life. " But you cannot," Mor- 
 gan used to say, " be friends with the rich, and 
 that is what makes the position of the very rich so 
 pitiful, for the rich get so tired of each oth«r." 
 
 " But Margaret," my wife urged, " will never be 
 of that sort: money will not change either her 
 habits or her affections." 
 
 " Perhaps. You can never .trust to inherited 
 poverty. I have no doubt that she wiH resist the 
 world, if anybody can, but my advice is that if you 
 want to keep along with Margaret, you'd better 
 urge your husband to make money. Experience 
 seems to teach that while they cannot come to us, 
 we may sometimes go to them." 
 
 My wife and Mrs. Fletcher were both indignant 
 at this banter, and accused Morgan of want of 
 
208 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 faith, and even lack of affection for Margaret ; in 
 short, of worldly-mindedness himself. 
 
 " Perhaps I am rather shop-worn," he confessed. 
 " It's not distrust of Margaret's intentions, but 
 knowledge of the strength of the current on which 
 she has embarked. Henderson wiU not stop in his 
 career short of some overwhelming disaster or of 
 death." 
 
 " I thought you liked him ? At any rate, Mar- 
 garet will make a good use of his money." 
 
 " It isn't a question, my dear Mrs. Fairchild, of 
 the use of money, but of the use money makes of 
 you. Yes, I do like Henderson, but I can't give up 
 my philosophy of life for the sake of one good 
 fellow." 
 
 " Philosophy of fudge !" exclaimed my wife. And 
 there really was no answer to this. 
 
 After six weeks had passed, my wife paid a visit 
 to Margaret. Nothing could exceed the affection- 
 ate cordiality of her welcome. Margaret was over- 
 joyed to see her, to show the house, to have her 
 know her husband better, to take her into her new 
 life. She was hardly yet over the naive surprises 
 of her lovely surroundings. Or if it is too much 
 to say that her surprise had lasted six weeks — for 
 it is marvellous how soon women adapt themselves 
 to new conditions if they are agreeable — she was in 
 a glow of wonder at her husband's goodness, at his 
 love, which had procured all this happiness for her. 
 
A Idttle Jowmey in the World. 209 
 
 " Tou have no idea," she said, " how thoughtful 
 he is about everjrthing — and he makes so httle of 
 it all. I am to thank you, he tells me always, for 
 whatever pleases my taste in the house, and indeed 
 I think I should have known you had been here if 
 he had not told me. There are so many httle 
 touches that remind me of home. I am glad of 
 that, for it is the more likely to make you feel that 
 it is your home also." 
 
 She clung to this idea in the whirl of the new 
 life. In the first days she dwelt much on this 
 theme ; indeed it was hardly second in her talk to 
 her worship — I can call it nothing less — of her hus- 
 band. She liked to talk of Brandon and the dear 
 life there and the dearer friends — this much talk 
 about it showed that it was another Hfe, already of 
 the past, and beginning to be distant in the mind. 
 My wife had a f eehng that Margaret, thus early, 
 was conscious of a drift, of a widening space, and 
 was making an effort to pull the two parts of her 
 life together, that there should be no break, as one 
 carried away to sea by a resistless tide grasps the 
 straining rope that still maintains his slender con- 
 nection with the shore. 
 
 But it was all so different : the luxurious house, 
 the carriage at call, the box at the opera, the social 
 duties inevitable with her own acquaintances and 
 the friends of her husband. She spoke of this in 
 moments of confidence, and when she was tired, 
 14 
 
210 A LitUe Journey in the World. 
 
 with a consciousness that it was a different hf e, but 
 in no tone of regret, and I fancy that the French 
 blood in her veins, which had so long run decorous- 
 ly in Puritan channels, leaped at its return into 
 new gayety. Years ago Margaret had thought that 
 she might some time be a missionary, at least that 
 she should like to devote her life to useful labors 
 among the poor and the unfortunate. If con- 
 science ever reminded her of this, conscience was 
 quieted by the suggestion that now she was in a 
 position to be more liberal than she ever expected 
 to be ; that is, to give everything except the essen- 
 tial thing — herself. Henderson liked a gay house, 
 brightness, dinners, entertainment, and that his wife 
 should be seen and admired. Proof of his love she 
 found in all this, and she entered into it with spirit, 
 and an enjoyment increased by the thought that 
 she was lightening the burden of his business, which 
 she could see pressed more and more. 
 
 Not that Henderson made any account of his 
 growing occupations, or that any preoccupation 
 was visible except to the eye of love, which is quick 
 to see all moods. These were indeed happy days, 
 full of the brightness of an expanding prosperity 
 and unlimited possibilities of the enjoyment of 
 life. It was in obedience to her natural instinct, 
 and not yet a feeling of compensation and propi- 
 tiation, that enlisted Margaret in the city charities, 
 connection with which was a fashionable entertain- 
 
A Little Journey m the World. 211 
 
 ment with some, and a means of social promotion 
 with others. 
 
 My wife came home a little weary with so much 
 of the world, but, on the whole, impressed with 
 Margaret's good -fortune. Henderson in his own 
 house was the soul of consideration and hospitality, 
 and Margaret was blooming in the beauty that 
 shines in satisfied desire. 
 
XIII. 
 
 It is so painful to shrink, and so delightful to 
 grow ! Every one knows the renovation of feeling 
 — often mistaken for a moral renewal — when the 
 worn dress of the day is exchanged for the fresh 
 evening toilet. The expansiveness of prosperity 
 has a hke effect, though the moraUst is always pip- 
 ing about the beneficent uses of adversity. The 
 moralist is, of course, right, time enough given; 
 but what does the tree, putting out its tender green 
 leaves to the wooing of the south wind, care for 
 the moralist ? How charming the world is when 
 you go with it, and not against it ! 
 
 It was better than Margaret had thought. "When 
 she came to Washington in the winter season the 
 beautiful city seemed to welcome her and respond 
 to the gayety of her spirit. It was so open, cheer- 
 ful, hospitable, in the appearance of its smooth 
 broad avenues and pretty little parks, with the 
 bronze statues which all looked noble — in the moon- 
 light ; it was such a combination and piquant con- 
 trast of shabby ease and stately elegance — negro 
 cabins and stone mansions, picket-fences and sheds, 
 and flower -banked terraces before rows of resi- 
 
A Little Journey in the World. "iiXZ 
 
 dences which bespoke wealth and refinement. The 
 very aspect of the street population was novel; 
 compared to New York, the city was as silent as a 
 country village, and the passers, who have the fash- 
 ion of walking in the middle of the street upon the 
 asphalt as freely as upon the sidewalks, had a sort 
 of busy leisurehness, the natural air of thousands 
 of officials hived in offices for a few hours and then 
 left in irresponsible idleness. But what most dis- 
 tinguished the town, after aU, in Margaret's first 
 ghmpse of it, was the swarming negro population 
 pervading every part of it — the slouching planta- 
 tion negro, the smart mulatto girl with gay rai- 
 ment and mincing step, the old-time auntie, the 
 brisk waiter -boy with uncertain eye, the washer- 
 woman, the hawkers and fruiterers, the loafing 
 strollers of both sexes — carrying everywhere color, 
 abandon, a certain picturesqueness and irresponsi- 
 bility and good-nature, and a sense of moral relaxa- 
 tion in a too strict and duty-ridden world. 
 
 In the morning, when Margaret looked from the 
 windows of the hotel, the sky was gray and yield- 
 ing, and aU the outlines of the looming buildings 
 were softened in the hazy air. The dome of the 
 Capitol seemed to float Uke a bubble, and to be as 
 unsubstantial as the genii edifices in the Arabian 
 tale. The Monument, the slim white shaft as tall 
 as the Great Pyramid, was stUl more a dream crea- 
 tiouj not really made of hard marble, but of some- 
 
214 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 thing as soft as vapor, almost melting into the sky, 
 and yet distinct, unwavering, its point piercing the 
 upper air, threatening every instant to dissolve, as 
 if it were truly the baseless fabric of a vision — 
 Hght, unreal, ghost-like, spotless, pure as an unsul- 
 lied thought ; it might vanish in a breath ; and yet, 
 no ; it is solid : in the mist of doubt, in the assault 
 of storms, smitten by the sun, beaten by the tem- 
 pests, it stands there, springing, graceful, immov- 
 able — emblem, let us say, of the purity and per- 
 manence of the repubhc. 
 
 " You never half told me, Rodney, how beautiful 
 it all is !" Margaret exclaimed, in a glow of delight. 
 
 "Yes," said Henderson, "the Monument is be- 
 having very well this morning. I never saw it 
 before look so little like a factory chimney." 
 
 " That is, you never looked at it with my eyes 
 before, cynic. But it is all so lovely, everywhere." 
 
 " Of course it is, dear." They were standing to- 
 gether at the window, and his arm was where it 
 should have been. " "What did you expect ? There 
 are concentrated here the taste and virtue of sixty 
 millions of people." 
 
 "But you always said the "Washington hotels 
 were so bad. These apartments are charming." 
 
 " Yes " — and he drew her closer to him — " there 
 is no denying that. But presently I shall have to 
 explain to you an odd phenomenon. Virginia, you 
 know, used to be famous for its good hving, and 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 215 
 
 Maryland was simply unapproachable for good 
 cooking. It was expected when the District was 
 made out of these two that the result would be 
 something quite extraordinary in the places of pub- 
 lic entertainment. But, by a process which nobody 
 can explain, in the union the art of cooking in ho- 
 tels got mislaid." 
 
 "Well," she said, with winning illogicality, 
 "you've got me." 
 
 " If you could only eat the breakfasts for me, as 
 you can see the Monument for me !" 
 
 " Dear, I could eat the Monument for you, if it 
 would do you any good." And neither of them 
 was ashamed of this nonsense, for both knew that 
 married people indulge in it when they are happy. 
 
 Although Henderson came to "Washington on 
 business, this was Margaret's wedding journey. 
 There is no other, city in the world where a wed- 
 ding journey can better be combined with such busi- 
 ness as is transacted here, for in both is a certain 
 element of mystery. Washington is gracious to a 
 bride, if she is pretty and agreeable — devotion to 
 governing, or to legislation, or to diplomacy, does 
 not render a man insensible to feminine attractions ; 
 and if in addition to beauty a woman has the repu- 
 tation of wealth, she is as nearly irresistible here as 
 anywhere. To Margaret, who was able to return 
 the hospitahty she received, and whose equipage 
 was almost as much admired as her toilets, all 
 
216 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 doors were open — a very natural thing, surely, in a 
 good-natured, give-and-take world. The colonel — 
 Margaret had laughed till she cried when first she 
 heard her husband saluted by this title in "Washing- 
 ton by his New Hampshire acquaintances, but he 
 explained to her that he had justly won it years 
 ago by undergoing the hardship of receptions as a 
 member of the Governor's staff — the colonel had 
 brought on his horses and carriages, not at aU by 
 way of ostentation, but simply out of regard to 
 what was due her as his wife, and because a car- 
 riage at call is a constant necessity in this city, 
 whose dignity is equal to the square of its distances, 
 and because there is something incongruous in 
 sending a bride about in a herdic. Margaret's un- 
 worldly simplicity had received a little shock when 
 she first saw her servants in livery, but she was not 
 slow to see the propriety and even necessity of it 
 in a republican society, since elegance cannot be 
 a patchwork, but must be harmonious, and there 
 is no harmony between a stylish turnout — noble 
 horses nobly caparisoned — and a coachman and 
 footman on the box dressed according to their own 
 vulgar taste. Given a certain position, one's sense 
 of fitness and taste must be maintained. And 
 there is so much kindliness and consideration in 
 human nature — Margaret's gorgeous coachman and 
 footman never by a look revealed their knowledge 
 that she was new to the situation, and I dare say 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 217 
 
 that their respectful demeanor contributed to raise 
 her in her own esteem as one of the select and 
 favored in this prosperous world. The most self- 
 poised and genuine are not insensible to the tribute 
 of this personal consideration. My lady giving or- 
 ders to her respectful servitors, and driving down 
 the avenue in her luxurious turnout, is not at aU 
 the same person in feeling that she would be if 
 dragged about in a dissolute-looking hack whose 
 driver has the air of the stable. "We take kindly 
 to this transformation, and perhaps it is only the 
 vulgar in soul who become snobbish in it. Little 
 by little, under this genial consideration, Margaret 
 advanced in the pleasant path of worldliness ; and 
 we heard, by the newspapers and otherwise — in- 
 deed, Mr. and Mrs. Morgan were there for a couple 
 of weeks in the winter — ^that she was never more 
 sweet and gracious and lovely than in this first 
 season at the capital. I don't know that the town 
 Avas raving, as they said, about her beauty and 
 wit — there is nothing like the wit of a handsome 
 woman — and amiability and unostentatious little 
 charities, but she was a great favorite. "We used 
 to talk about it by the fire in Brandon, where 
 everything reminded us of the girl we loved, and 
 rejoice in her good-fortune and happiness, and get 
 rather heavy-hearted in thinking that she had gone 
 away from us into such splendor. 
 
 " I wish you were here," she wrote to my wife. 
 
218 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 "I am sure you would enjoy it. There are so 
 many distinguished people and brilliant people — 
 though the distinguished are not always brilliant 
 nor the brilliant distinguished — and everybody is 
 so kind and hospitable, and Kodney is such a favor- 
 ite. "We go everywhere, literally, and all the time. 
 You must not scold, but I haven't opened a book, 
 except my prayer-book, in six weeks — it is such a 
 whirl. And it is so amusing. I didn't know there 
 were so many kinds of people and so many sorts of 
 provincialism in the world. The other night, at the 
 British Minister's, a French attach^, who compli- 
 mented my awful French — I told him that I inher- 
 ited all but the vocabulary and the accent — said 
 that if specimens of the different kinds of women 
 evolved in aU out-of-the-way places who come to 
 Washington could be exhibited, nobody would 
 doubt any more that America is an interesting 
 country. Wasn't it an impudent speech ? I tried 
 to tell him, in French, how grateful American 
 women are for any little attention from foreigners 
 who have centuries of politeness behind them. Ah 
 me ! I sometimes long for one of the old-fashioned 
 talks before your smouldering logs ! What we talk 
 about here. Heaven only knows. I sometimes tell 
 Kodney at night — it is usually morning — that I 
 feel like an extinct piece of fireworks. But next 
 day it is all delightful again ; and, dear friend, I 
 don't know but that I like being fireworks." 
 
A lAtUe Journey in the World. 219 
 
 Among the men who came oftenest to see Hen- 
 derson was Jerry HoUowell. It seemed to Marga- 
 ret an odd sort of companionship; it could not be 
 any similarity of tastes that drew them together, 
 and she could not understand the nature of the 
 business transacted in their mysterious conferences. 
 Social life had few attractions for HoUowell, for 
 his family were in the West ; he appeared to have 
 no relations with any branch of government; he 
 wanted no office, though his influence was much 
 sought by those who did want it. 
 
 " You spend a good deal of time here, Mr. Hollo- 
 well," Margaret said one day when he called in 
 Henderson's absence. 
 
 " Yes, ma'am, considerable. Things need a good 
 deal of fixing up. Washington is a curious place. 
 It's a sort of exchange for the whole country : you 
 can see everybody here, and it is a good place to 
 arrange matters." 
 
 " With Congress, do you mean ?" Margaret had 
 heard much of the corruption of Congress. 
 
 "No, not Congress particularly. Congressmen 
 are just about like other people. It's aU nonsense, 
 this talk about buying Congressmen. You cannot 
 buy them any more than you can buy other peo- 
 ple, but you can sort of work together with some 
 of them. We don't want anything of Congress, 
 except to be let alone. If we are doing something 
 to develop the trade in the South-west, build it up, 
 
220 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 some member who thinks he is smart will just as 
 likely as not try to put in a block somewhere, or 
 investigate, or something, in order to show his in- 
 dependence, and then he has to be seen, and shown 
 that he is going against the interests of his con- 
 stituents. It is just as it is everywhere : men have 
 to be shown what their real interest is. No ; most 
 Congressmen are poor, and they stay poor. It is 
 a good deal easier to deal with those among them 
 •who are rich and have some idea about the pros- 
 perity of the country. It is just so in the depart- 
 ments. You've got to watch things, if you expect 
 them to go smooth. You've got to get acquainted 
 with the men. Most men are reasonable when you 
 get well acquainted with them. I teU your hus- 
 band that people are about as reasonable in Wash- 
 ington as you'll find them anywhere." 
 " Washington is certainly very pleasant." 
 " Yes, that's so ; it is pleasant. Where most ev- 
 erybody wants something, they are bound to be 
 accommodating. That's my idea. I reckon you 
 don't find Jerry HoUoweU trying to pull a cat by 
 its tail," he added, dropping into his native manner. 
 " Well, I must go and hunt up the old man. Glad 
 to have made your acquaintance, Mrs. Henderson." 
 And then, with a sly look, " If I knew you better, 
 ma'am, I should take the Uberty of congratulat- 
 ing you that Henderson has come round so hand- 
 somely." 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 221 
 
 " Come round ?" asked Margaret, in amused won- 
 der. 
 
 ""Well, I took the liberty of giving him a hint 
 that he wasn't cut out for a single man. I showed 
 him that," and he lugged out his photograph-case 
 from a mass of papers in his breast-pocket and 
 handed it to her. 
 
 "Ah, I se6," said Margaret, studying the photo- 
 graphs with a peculiar smUe. 
 
 " Oh, Henderson knows a good thing when he 
 sees it," said HoUowell, complacently. 
 
 It was not easy to be offended with HoUoweU's 
 kind-hearted boorishness, and after he had gone, 
 Margaret sat a long time reflecting upon this new 
 specimen of man in her experience. She was get- 
 ting many new ideas in these days, the moral hues 
 were not' as clearly drawn as she had thought ; it 
 was impossible to ticket men pff into good and bad. 
 In HoUowell she had a glimpse of a world low- 
 toned and vulgar ; she had heard that he was ab- 
 solutely unscrupulous, and she had supposed that 
 he would appear to be a very wicked man. But he 
 seemed to be good-hearted and tolerant and friend- 
 ly. How fond he was of his family, and how char- 
 itable about Congress ! And she wondered if the 
 world was generally on HoHowell's level. She met 
 many men more cultivated than he, gentlemen in 
 manner and in the first social position, who took, 
 after all, about his tone in regard to the world. 
 
222 A .Little Journey in the Worlds 
 
 very agreeable people usually, easy to get on with, 
 not exacting, or professing much faith in anybody, 
 and mildly cynical — only bitterly cynical when 
 they failed to get what they wanted, and felt the 
 good things of life slipping away from them. It 
 was to take her some time to learn that some of 
 the most agreeable people are those who have suc- 
 ceeded by the most questionable means ; and when 
 she came to this knowledge, what would be her 
 power of judgment as to these means ? 
 
 " Mr. HoUoweU has been here," she said, when 
 Henderson returned. 
 
 " Old Jerry ? He is a character." 
 
 " Do you trust him V 
 
 " It never occurred to me. Yes, I suppose so, as 
 far as his interests go. He isn't a bad sort of fel- 
 low — very long-headed." 
 
 " Dear," said Margaret, with hesitation, " I wish 
 you didn't have anything to do with such men." 
 
 "Why, dearest?" 
 
 " Oh, I- don't know. You needn't laugh. It rath- 
 er lets one down ; and it isn't like you." 
 
 Henderson laughed aloud now. " But you needn't 
 associate with HoUowell. "We men cannot pick our 
 companions in business and politics. It needs all 
 sorts to keep the world going." 
 
 " Then I'd rather let it stop," Margaret said. 
 
 " And seU out at auction ?" he cried, with a look 
 of amusement. 
 
A Little Journey m ths World. 223 
 
 " But aren't Mr. Morgan and Mr. Fairchild busi- 
 ness men ?" 
 
 "Yes — of the old-fashioned sort. The fact is, 
 Margaret, you've got a sort of preserve up in Bran- 
 don, and you fancy that the world is divided into 
 sheep and goats. It's a great mistake. There is 
 no such division. Every man almost is both a 
 sheep and a goat." 
 
 " I don't believe it, Eodney. You are neither." 
 She came close to him, and taking the collar of his 
 coat in each hand, gave him a little shake, and 
 looking up 4nto his face with quizzical affection, 
 asked, " "What is your business here ?" 
 
 Henderson stooped down and kissed her fore- 
 head, and tenderly lifted the locks of her brown 
 hair. " You wouldn't understand, sweet, if I told 
 you." 
 
 " You might try." 
 
 " "Well, there's a man here from Fort Worth who 
 wants us to buy a piece of railroad, and extend it, 
 and join it with HoUowell's system, and open up a 
 lot of new country." 
 
 " And isn't it a good piece of road ?" 
 
 " Yes ; that's the trouble. The owners want to 
 keep it to themselves, and prevent the general de- 
 velopment. But we shall get it." 
 
 " It isn't anything like wrecking, is it, dear ?" 
 
 "Do you think we would want to wreck our 
 own property ?" 
 
224 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 " But what has Congress to do with it ?" 
 
 "Oh, there's a land grant. But some of the 
 members who were not in the Congress that voted 
 it say that it is forfeited." 
 
 In this fashion the explanation went on. Mar- 
 garet loved to hear her husband talk, and to watch 
 the changing expression of his face, and he ex- 
 plained about this business until she thought he 
 was the sweetest fellow in the world. 
 
 The Morgans had arrived at the same hotel, and 
 Margaret went about with them in the daytime, 
 while Henderson was occupied. It was like a 
 breath of home to be with them, and their pres- 
 ence, reviving that old life, gave a new zest to the 
 society spectacle, to the innocent round of enter- 
 tainments, which more and more absorbed her. 
 Besides, it was very interesting to have Mr. Mor- 
 gan's point of view of Washington, and to see the 
 shifting panorama through his experience. He 
 had been very much in the city in former years, 
 but he came less and less now, not because it was 
 less beautiful or attractive in a way, but because it 
 had lost for him a certain charm it once had. 
 
 " I am not sure," he said, as they were driving 
 one day, " that it is not now the handsomest capi- 
 tal in the world ; at any rate, it is on its way to be 
 that. No other has public buildings more iippos- 
 ing, or streets and avenues so attractive in their 
 interrupted regularity, so many stately vistas end- 
 
A. Little Journey in the World. 225 
 
 ing in objects refreshing to the eye — a bit of park, 
 banks of flowers, a statue or a monument that is 
 decorative, at least in the distance. As the years 
 go on we shall have finer historical groups, tri- 
 umphal arches and columns that will give it more 
 and more an air of distinction, the sort of splendor 
 mth which the Eoman Empire celebrated itself, 
 and, added to this, the libraries and museums and 
 galleries that are the chief attractions of European 
 cities. Oh, we have only just begun — the city is 
 so accessible in all directions, and lends itself to all 
 sorts of magnificence and beauty." 
 
 " I declare," said Mrs. Morgan to Margaret, " I 
 didn't know that he could be so eloquent. Page, 
 you ought to be in Congress." 
 
 " In order to snuff myself out ? Congress is not 
 so important a feature as it used to be. "Washing- 
 ton is getting to have a character of its own; it 
 seems as if it wouldn't be much without its official 
 life, yet the process is going on here that is so 
 marked all over the country— the divorce of social 
 and political life. I used to think, fifteen years 
 ago, that Washington was a standing contradiction 
 to the old aphorism that a democracy cannot make 
 society — there was no more agreeable society in 
 the world than that in Washington even ten years 
 ago : society selected itself somehow without any 
 marked class distinction, and it was delightfully 
 simple and accessible." 
 15 
 
226 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 " And what has changed it ?" Margaret asked. 
 
 " Money, which changes everything and every- 
 body. The whole scale has altered. There is so 
 much more display and expense. I remember 
 when a private carriage in Washington was a rare 
 object. The possession of money didn't help one 
 much socially. What made a person desired in 
 any company was the talent of being agreeable, 
 talent of some sort, not the ability to give a costly 
 dinner or a big ball." 
 
 " But there are more literary and scientific peo- 
 ple here, everybody says," said Margaret, who was 
 becoming a partisan of the city. 
 
 " Yes, and they keep more to themselves — witli- 
 draw into their studies, or hive in their clubs. 
 They tell me that the delightful informality and 
 freedom of the old life is gone. Ask the old Wash- 
 ington residents whether the coming in of rich 
 people with leisure hasn't demoralized society, or 
 stiffened it, and made it impossible after the old 
 sort. It is as easy here now as anywhere else to 
 get together a very heavy dinner party — all very 
 grand, but it isn't amusing. It is more and more 
 like New York." 
 
 " But we have been to delightful dinners," Mar- 
 garet insisted. 
 
 "No doubt. There are stiU houses of the old 
 sort, where wit and good-humor and free hospital- 
 ity are more conspicuous than expense ; but when 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 227 
 
 money selects, there is usually an incongruous lot 
 about the board. • An oracular scientist at the club 
 the other night put it rather neatly when he said 
 that a society that exists mainly to pay its debts 
 gets stupid." 
 
 " That's as clever," Margaret retorted, " as the 
 remark of an under-seoretary at a cabinet recep- 
 tion the other night, that it is one thing to enter- 
 tain and another to be entertaining. I won't have 
 you slander Washington. I should like to spend 
 all my winters here." 
 
 "Dear me!" said Morgan, "I've been praising 
 "Washington. I should like to hve here also, if I 
 had the millions of Jerry Hollowell. Jerry is go- 
 ing to build a palace out on the Massachusetts 
 Avenue extension bigger than the "White House." 
 
 " I don't want to hear anything about Hollowell." 
 
 " But he is the coming man. He represents the 
 democratic plutocracy that we are coming to." 
 
 AU Morgan's banter couldn't shake Margaret's 
 enjoyment of the cheerful city. " You like it as 
 well as anybody," she told him. And in truth he 
 and Mrs. Morgan dipped into every gayety that 
 was going. " Of course I do," he said, " for a 
 couple of weeks. I shouldn't like to be obliged to 
 follow it as a steady business. "Washington is a 
 good place to take a plunge occasionally. And 
 then you can go home and read King Solomon 
 with appreciation." 
 
228 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 Margaret had thought when she came to "Wash- 
 ington that she should spend a good deal of time 
 at the Capitol, listening to the eloquence of the 
 Senators and Eepresentatives, and that she should 
 study the coUections and the Patent-office and ex- 
 plore all the public buildings, in which she had 
 such intense historical interest as a teacher in 
 Brandon. But there was little time for these 
 pleasures, which weighed upon her like duties. 
 She did go to the Capitol once, and tired herself 
 out tramping up and down, and was very proud of 
 it aU, and wondered how any legislation was ever 
 accomplished, and was confused by the hustling 
 about, the swinging of doors, the swarms in the 
 lobbies, and the racing of messengers, and conclud- 
 ed unjustly that it was a big hire of whispered 
 conference, and bargaining, and private interview- 
 ing. Morgan asked her if she expected that the 
 business of sixty milUons of people was going to 
 be done with the order and decorum of a lyceum 
 debating society. In one of the committee-rooms 
 she saw HoUowell, looking at ease, and apparently 
 an indispensable part of the government machine. 
 Her own husband, who had accompanied the party, 
 she lost presently, whisked away somewhere. He 
 was sought in vain afterwards, and at last Margaret 
 came away dazed and stunned by the noise of the 
 wheels of the great republic in motion. 
 
 She did not try it again, and very little strolling 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 229 
 
 about the departments satisfied her. The west 
 end claimed her — the rolling equipages, the draw- 
 ing-rooms, the dress, the vistas of evening lamps, 
 the gay chatter in a hundred shining houses, the 
 exquisite dinners, the crush of the assemblies, the 
 full flow of the tide of fashion and of enjoyment — 
 what is there so good in hfe ? To be young, to be 
 rich, to be pretty, to be loved, to be admired, to 
 comphment and be complimented — every Sunday 
 at morning service, kneeling in a fluttering row of 
 the sweetly devout, whose fresh toilets made it 
 good to be there, and who might humbly hope to 
 be forgiven for the things they have left undone, 
 Margaret thanked Heaven for its gifts. 
 
 And it went well with Henderson meantime. 
 Surely he was born under a lucky star — if it is 
 good-luck for a man to have absolute prosperity 
 and the gratification of all his desires. One reason 
 why HoUoweH sought his co-operation was a belief 
 in this luck, and besides Henderson was, he knew, 
 more presentable, and had social access in quarters 
 where infiuence was desirable, although HoUowell 
 was discovering that with most men delicacy in 
 presenting anything that is for their interest is 
 thrown away. He found no difficulty in getting 
 recruits for his Uttle dinners at Champolion's — din- 
 ners that were not always given in his name, and 
 where he appeared as a guest, though he footed 
 the bills. Bungling grossness has disappeared 
 
230 A ZitUe Journey in the World. 
 
 from all really able and large transactions, and 
 genius is mainly exercised in the supply of motives 
 for a line of conduct. The public good is one of 
 the motives that looks best in "Washington. 
 
 Henderson and HoUowell got what they wanted 
 in regard to the South-west consolidation, and got 
 it in the most gentlemanly way. !N^obody was 
 bought, no one was offered a bribe. There were, 
 of course, fees paid for opinions and for profes- 
 sional services, and some able men induced to take 
 a prospective interest in what was demonstrably 
 for the public good. But no vote was given for a 
 consideration — at least this was the report of an 
 investigating committee later on. Nothing, of 
 course, goes through Congress of its own weight, 
 except occasionally a resolution of sympathy with 
 the Coreans, and the calendar needs to be watched, 
 and the good offices of friends secured. Skilful 
 wording of a clause, the right moment, and oppor- 
 tune recognition do the business. The main thing 
 is to create a favorable atmosphere and avoid discus- 
 sion. "When the bill was passed, HoUowell did give 
 a dinner on his own invitation, a dinner that was 
 talked of for its refinement as well as its cost. The 
 chief topic of conversation Avas the development of 
 the South-west and the extension of our trade rela- 
 tions with Mexico. The little scheme, hatched in 
 Henderson's New York office, in order to transfer 
 certain already created values to the pockets of 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 231 
 
 himself and his friends, appeared to have a national 
 importance. "When Henderson rose to propose the 
 health of Jerry HoUowell, neither he nor the man 
 he eulogized as a creator of industries whose repub- 
 lican patriotism was not bound by State lines nor 
 circumscribed by sections was without a sense of 
 the humor of the situation. 
 
 And yet in a certain way Mr. HoUowell was con- 
 scious that he merited the eulogy. He had come 
 to believe that the enterprises in which he was en- 
 gaged, that absolutely gave him, it was behoved, an 
 income of a million a year, were for the pubhc good. 
 Such vast operations lent him the importance of a 
 public man. If he was a victim of the confusion 
 of mind which mistook his own prosperity for the 
 general benefit, he only shared a wide public opin- 
 ion which regards the accumulation of enormous 
 fortunes in a few hands as an evidence of national 
 wealth. 
 
 Margaret left "Washington with regret. She had 
 a desire to linger in the opening of the charming 
 spring there, for the little parks were brilliant with 
 flower beds— tuMps, hyacinths, crocuses, violets — 
 the magnolias and redbuds in their prodigal splen- 
 dor attracted the eye a quarter of a mile away, and 
 the slender twigs of the trees began to be suffused 
 with tender green. It was the sentimental time of 
 the year. But Congress had gone, and whatever 
 might be the promise of the season, Henderson had 
 
232 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 already gathered the fruits that had been forced 
 in the hot-house of the session. He was in high 
 spirits. 
 
 " It has all been so dehghtf ul, dear !" said Mar- 
 garet as they rode away in the train, and caught 
 their last sight of the dome. They were in HoUo- 
 weU's private car, which the good-natured old fel- 
 low had put at their disposal. And Margaret had 
 a sense of how delightful and prosperous this world 
 is as seen from a private car. 
 
 " Yes," Henderson answered, thinking of various 
 things ; " it has been a successful winter. The cap- 
 ital is really attractive. It occurred to me the 
 other day that America has invented a new kind 
 of city, the apotheosis of the village — "Washington." 
 
 They talked of the city, of the acquaintances of 
 the winter, of HoUowell's thoughtfulness in lending 
 them his car, that their bridal trip, as he had said, 
 might have a good finish. Margaret's heart opened 
 to the world. She thought of the friends at Bran- 
 don, she thought of the poor old ladies she was 
 accustomed to look after in the city, of the ragged- 
 school that she visited, of the hospital in which she 
 was a manager, of the mission chapel. The next 
 Sunday would be Easter, and she thought of a hun- 
 dred ways in which she could make it brighter for 
 so many of the unfortunates. Her heart was open- 
 ed to the world, and looking across to Henderson, 
 who was deep in the morning paper, she said, with 
 
A Little Journey in the Wm^ld. 233 
 
 a wife's unblushing effrontery, " Dearest, how hand- 
 some you are !" 
 
 The home life took itself up again easily and 
 smoothly in "Washington Square. Did there ever 
 come a moment of reflection as to the nature of 
 this prosperity which was altogether so absorbing 
 and agreeable ? If it came, did it give any doubts 
 and raise any of the old questions that used to be 
 discussed at Brandon ? "Wasn't it the use that peo- 
 ple made of money, after all, that was the real test ? 
 She did not like HoUowell, but on acquaintance he 
 was not the monster that he had appeared to her 
 in the newspapers. She was perplexed now and 
 then by her husband's business, but did it differ 
 from that of other men she had known, except that 
 it was on a larger scale? And how much good 
 could be done with money ! 
 
 On Easter morning, when Margaret returned 
 from early service, to which she had gone alone, 
 she found upon her dressing-table a note addresed 
 to " My Wife," and in it a check for a large sum 
 to her order, and a card, on which was written, 
 " For Margaret's Easter Charities." Flushed with 
 pleasure, she ran to meet her husband on the land- 
 ing as he was descending to breakfast, threw her 
 arms about his neck, and, with tears in her eyes, 
 cried, " Dearest, how good you are !" 
 
 It is such a good and prosperous generation. 
 
XIV. 
 
 OiTE lives are largely made up of the things we 
 do not have. In May, the time. of the apple blos- 
 soms—just a year from the swift wooing of Mar- 
 garet — Miss Forsythe received a letter from John 
 Lyon. It was in a mourning envelope. The Earl 
 of Chisholm was dead, and John Lyon was Earl of 
 Chisholm. The information was briefly conveyed, 
 but with an air of profound sorrow. The letter 
 spoke of the change that this loss brought to 
 his own life, and the new duties laid upon him, 
 which would confine him more closely to Eng- 
 land. It also contained congratulations — which 
 circumstances had delayed — upon Mrs. Hender- 
 son's marriage, and a simple wish for her happi- 
 ness. The letter was longer than it need have 
 beeri for these purposes ; it seemed to love to dwell 
 upon the little visit to Brandon and the circle of 
 friends there, and it was pervaded by a tone, al- 
 most affectionate, towards Miss Forsythe, which 
 touched her very deeply. She said it was such a 
 manly letter. 
 
 America, the earl said, interested him more and 
 more. In all history, he wrote, there never had 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 235 
 
 been such an opportunity for studying the forma- 
 tion of society, for watching the working out of 
 political problems ; the elements meeting were so 
 new, and the conditions so original, that historical 
 precedents were of little service as guides. He ac- 
 knowledged an almost irresistible impulse to come 
 back, and he announced his intention of another 
 visit as soon as circumstances permitted. 
 
 I had noticed this in English travellers of intelli- 
 gence before. Crude as the country is, and uninter- 
 esting according to certain established standards, 
 it seems to have a " drawing " quality, a certain 
 unexplained fascination. Morgan says that it is 
 the social unconventionality that attracts, and that 
 the American women are the loadstone. He de- 
 clares that when an Englishman secures and carries 
 home with him an American wife, his curiosity 
 about the country is sated. But this is general- 
 izing on narrow premises. 
 
 There was certainly in Lyon's letter a longing 
 to see the country again, but the impression it 
 made upon me when I read it — due partly to its 
 tone towards Miss Forsythe, almost a family tone 
 — was that the earldom was an empty thing with- 
 out the love of Margaret Debree. Life is so brief 
 at the best, and has so little in it when the one 
 thing that the heart desires is denied. That the 
 earl should wish to come to America again with- 
 out hope or expectation was, however, quite human 
 
236 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 nature. If a man has found a diamond and lost 
 it, he is likely to go again and again and wander 
 about the field where he found it, not perhaps in 
 any defined hope of finding another, but because 
 there is a melancholy satisfaction in seeing the 
 spot again. It was some such feeling that im- 
 pelled the earl to wish to see again Miss Forsythe, 
 and perhaps to talk of Margaret, but he certainly 
 had no thought that there were two Margaret 
 Debrees in America. 
 
 To her aunt's letter conveying the intelligence 
 of Mr. Lyon's loss, Margaret replied with a civil 
 message of condolence. The news had already 
 reached the Eschelles, and Carmen, Margaret said, 
 had written to the new earl a most pious note, 
 which contained no allusion to his change of fort- 
 une, except an expression of sympathy with his 
 now enlarged opportunity for carrying on his phil- 
 anthropic plans — a most unworldly note. " I used 
 to think," she had said, when confiding what she 
 had done to Margaret, "that you would make a 
 perfect missionary countess, but you have done 
 better, my dear, and taken up a much more diffi- 
 cult work among us fashionable sinners. Do you 
 know," she went on, " that I feel a great deal less 
 worldly than I used to." 
 
 Margaret wrote a most amusing account of this 
 interview, and added that Carmen was reaUy very 
 good-hearted, and not half as worldly-minded as 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 237 
 
 she pretended to be ; an opinion with which Miss 
 Forsythe did not at all agree. She had spent 
 a fortnight with Margaret after Easter, and she 
 came back in a dubious frame of mind. Marga- 
 ret's growing intimacy with Carmen was one of 
 the sources of her uneasiness. They appeared to 
 be more and more companionable, although Mar- 
 garet's clear perception of character made her es- 
 timate of Carmen very nearly correct. But the 
 fact remained that she found her company inter- 
 esting. Whether the girl tried to astonish the 
 country aunt, or whether she was so thoroughly a 
 child of her day as to lack certain moral percep- 
 tions, I do not know, but her candid conversation 
 greatly shocked Miss Forsythe. 
 
 " Margaret," she said one day, in one of her ap- 
 parent bursts of confidence, "seems to have had 
 such a different start in life from mine. Some- 
 times, Miss Forsythe, she puzzles me. I never saw 
 anybody so much in love as she is with Mr. Hen- 
 derson ; she doesn't simply love him, she is in love 
 with him. I don't wonder she is fond of him — any 
 woman might be that — but, do you know, she act- 
 ually believes in him." 
 
 " "Why shouldn't she believe in him ?" exclaimed 
 Miss Forsythe, in astonishment. 
 
 " Oh, of course, in a Avay," the girl went on. " I 
 like Mr. Henderson — I like him very much — ^but I 
 don't believe in him. It isn't the way now to be- 
 
238 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 lieve in anybody very much. "We don't do it, and I' 
 think we get along just as well — and better. Don't 
 you think it's nicer not to have any deceptions ?" 
 
 Miss Forsythe was too much stunned to make 
 any reply. It seemed to her that the bottom had 
 fallen out of society. 
 
 " Do you think Mr. Henderson believes in peo- 
 ple ?" the girl persisted. 
 
 ' " If he does not he isn't much of a man. If peo- 
 ple don't believe in each other, society is going to 
 pieces. I am astonished at such a tone from a 
 woman." 
 
 " Oh, it isn't any tone in me, my dear Miss For- 
 sythe," Carmen continued, sweetly. " Society is a 
 great deal pleasanter when you are not anxious and 
 don't expect too much." 
 
 Miss Forsythe told Margaret that she thought 
 Miss Eschelle was a dangerous woman. Margaret 
 did not defend her, but she did not join, either, in 
 condemning her; she appeared to have accepted 
 her as a part of her world. And there were other 
 things that Margaret seemed to have accepted with- 
 out that vigorous protest which she used to raise at 
 whatever crossed her conscience. To her aunt she 
 was never more affectionate, never more solicitous 
 about her comfort and her pleasure, and it was al- 
 most enough to see Margaret happy, radiant, ex- 
 panding day by day in the prosperity that was il- 
 limitable, only there was to her a note of unreality 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 239 
 
 in all the whirl and hurry of the busy life. She 
 liked to escape to her room with a book, and be out 
 of it all, and the two weeks away from her country 
 life seemed long to her. She couldn't reconcile 
 Margaret's love of the world, her tolerance of Car- 
 men, and other men and women whose lives seemed 
 to be based on Carmen's philosophy, with her devo- 
 tion to the church services, to the city missions, and 
 the dozens of charities that absorb so much of the 
 time of the leaders of society. 
 
 " You are too young, dear, to be so good and de- 
 vout," was Carmen's comment on the situation. 
 
 To Miss Forsythe's wonder, Margaret did not re- 
 sent this impertinence, but only said that no accu- 
 mulation of years was likely to bring Carmen into 
 either of these dangers. And the reply was no 
 more satisfactory to Miss Forsythe than the remark 
 that provoked it. 
 
 That she had had a delightful visit, that Marga- 
 ret was more lovely than ever, that Henderson was 
 a delightful host, was the report of Miss Forsythe 
 when she returned to us. In a confidential talk 
 with my wife she confessed, however, that she 
 couldn't tell whither Margaret was going. 
 
 One of the worries of modern life is the perplex- 
 ity where to spend the summer. The restless spirit 
 of change affects those who dwell in the country, as 
 well as those who live in the city. No matter how 
 charming the residence is, one can stay in it only a 
 
240 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 part of the year. He actually needs a house in 
 town, a villa by the sea, and a cottage in the hills. 
 "When these are secured — each one an establishment 
 more luxurious year by year — then the family is 
 ready to travel about, and is in a greater perplexity 
 than before whether to spend the summer in Eu- 
 rope or in America, the novelties of which are be- 
 ginning to excite the imagination. This nomadism, 
 which is nothing less than society on wheels, can- 
 not be satirized as a whim of fashion ; it has a se- 
 rious cause in the discovery of the disease called 
 nervous prostration, which demands for its cure 
 constant change of scene, without any occupation. 
 Henderson recognized it, but he said that person- 
 ally he had no time to indulge in it. His summer 
 was to be a very busy one. It was impossible to 
 take Margaret with him on his sudden and tedious 
 Journeys from one end of the country to the other, 
 but she needed a change. It was therefore arranged 
 that after a visit to Brandon she should pass the 
 warm months with the Arbusers in their summer 
 home at Lenox, with a month — the right month — 
 in the Eschelle viUa at Newport; and he hoped 
 never to be long absent from one place or the other. 
 Margaret came to Brandon at the beginning of 
 June, just at the season when the region was at 
 its lovehest, and just when its society was making 
 preparations to get away from it to the sea, or the 
 mountains, or to any place that was not home. I 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 241 
 
 could never understand why a people who have 
 been grumbling about snow and frost for six months, 
 and longing for genial weather, should flee from it 
 as I soon as it comes. I had made the discovery, 
 quite by chance — and it was so novel that I might 
 have taken out a patent on it — that if one has a 
 comfortable home in our northern latitude, he can- 
 not do better than to stay in it when the hum of 
 the mosquito is heard in the land, and the mercury 
 is racing up and down the scale between fifty and 
 ninety. This opinion, however, did not extend be- 
 yond our little neighborhood, and we may be said 
 to have had the summer to ourselves. 
 
 I fancied that the neighborhood had not changed, 
 but the coming of Margaret showed me that this 
 was a delusion. No one can keep in the same 
 place in life simply by standing still, and the events 
 of the past two years had wrought a subtle change 
 in our quiet. Nothing had been changed to the 
 eye, yet something had been taken away, or some- 
 thing had been added, a door had been opened into 
 the world. Margaret had come home, yet I fan- 
 cied it was not the home to her that she had been 
 thinking about. Had she changed ? 
 
 She was more beautiful. She had the air — I 
 should hesitate to call it that of the fine lady — 
 of assured position, something the manner of that 
 greater world in which the possession of wealth 
 has supreme importance, but it was scarcely a 
 16 
 
242 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 change of manner so much as of ideas about hfe 
 and of the things valuable in it gradually showing 
 itself. Her delight at being again with her old 
 friends was perfectly genuine, and she had never 
 appeared more unselfish or more afiPectionate. If 
 there was a subtle difference, it might very well be 
 in us, though I found it impossible to conceive of 
 her in her former role of teacher and simple maiden, 
 with her heart in the little concerns of our daily 
 life. And why should she be expected to go back 
 to that stage ? Must we not all live our lives ? 
 
 Miss Forsythe's solicitude about Margaret was 
 mingled with a curious deference, as to one who 
 had a larger experience of hfe than her own. The 
 girl of a year ago was now the married woman, 
 and was invested with something of the dignity 
 that Miss Forsythe in her pure imagination at- 
 tached to that position. Without yielding any 
 of her opinions, this idea somehow changed her 
 relations to Margaret ; a little, I thought, to the 
 amusement of Mrs. Fletcher and the other ladies, 
 to whom marriage took on a less mysterious as- 
 pect. It arose doubtless from a renewed sense of 
 the incompleteness of her single life, long as it 
 had been, and enriched as it was by observation. 
 
 In that June there were vexatious strikes in va- 
 rious parts of the country, formidable combinations 
 of laboring-men, demonstrations of trades-unions, 
 and the exhibition of a spirit that sharply called 
 
A lAtile Journey in the World. 243 
 
 attention to the unequal distribution of wealth. 
 The discontent was attributed in some quarters to 
 the exhibition of extreme luxury and reckless liv- 
 ing by those who had been fortunate. It was even 
 said that the strikes, unreasonable and futile as 
 they were, and most injurious to those who in- 
 dulged in them, were indirectly caused by the rail- 
 way manipulation, in the attempt not only to crush 
 out competition, but to exact excessive revenues 
 on fictitious values. Eesistance to this could be 
 shown to be blind, and the strikers technically in 
 the wrong, yet the impression gained ground that 
 there was something monstrously wrong in the 
 way great fortunes were accumulated, in total dis- 
 regard of individual rights, and in a materialistic 
 spirit that did not take into account ordinary hu- 
 manity. For it was not alone the laboring class 
 that was discontented, but all over the country 
 those who lived upon small invested savings, wid- 
 ows and minors, found their income imperilled by 
 the trickery of rival operators and speculators in 
 railways and securities, who treated the little pri- 
 vate accumulations as mere counters in the games 
 they were playing. The loss of dividends to them 
 Avas poorly compensated by reflections upon the 
 development of the country, and the advantage to 
 trade of great consolidations, which inured to the 
 benefit of half a dozen insolent men. 
 In discussing these things in our little parliament 
 
244 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 we were not altogether unprejudiced, it must be 
 confessed. For, to say nothing of interests of Mr. 
 Morgan and my own, which seemed in some dan- 
 ger of disappearing for the "public good," Mrs. 
 Fletcher's little fortune was nearly all invested in 
 that sound "rock-bed" railway in the South-west 
 that Mr. Jerry HoUowell had recently taken under 
 his paternal care. She was assured, indeed, that 
 dividends were only reserved pending some sort of 
 reorganization, which would ultimately be of great 
 benefit to aU the parties concerned ; but this was 
 much like telling a hungry man that if he would 
 possess his appetite in patience, he would very like- 
 ly have a splendid dinner next year. "Women are 
 not constituted to understand this sort of reasoning. 
 It is needless to say that in our general talks on the 
 situation these personalities were not referred to, 
 for although Margaret was silent, it was plain to 
 see that she was uneasy. 
 
 Morgan liked to raise questions of casuistry, such 
 as that whether money dishonestly come by could 
 be accepted for good purposes. 
 
 "I had this question referred to me the other 
 day," he said. "A gambler — ^not a petty cheater in 
 cards, but a man who has a splendid estabhshment 
 in which he has amassed a fortune, a man known 
 for his liberality and good-fellowship and his inter- 
 est in politics — offered the president of a leading 
 college a hundred thousand dollars to endow a pro- 
 
A Little Journey in, the World. 245 
 
 fessorship. Ought the president to take the money, 
 knowing how it was made ?" 
 
 "Wouldn't the money do good — as much good 
 as any other hundred thousand dollars?" asked 
 Margaret. 
 
 " Perhaps. But the professorship was to bear his 
 name, and what would be the moral effect of that ?" 
 
 " Did you recommend the president to take the 
 money, if he could get it without using the gam- 
 bler's name ?" 
 
 " I am not saying yet what I advised. I am try- 
 ing to get your views on a general principle." 
 
 " But wouldn't it be a sneaking thing to take a 
 man's money, and refuse him the credit of his gen- 
 erosity?" 
 
 "But was it generosity? Was not his object, 
 probably, to get a reputation which his whole life 
 belied, and to get it by obhterating the distinction 
 between right and wrong ?" 
 
 "But isn't it a compromising distinction," my 
 wife asked, " to take his money without his name ? 
 The president knows that it is money fraudulently 
 got, that really belongs to somebody else ; and the 
 gambler would feel that if the president takes it, he 
 cannot think very disapprovingly of the manner in 
 which it was acquired. I think it would be more 
 honest and straightforward to take his name with 
 the money." 
 
 " The public effect of connecting the gambler's 
 
246 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 name with the college would be debasing," said 
 Morgan; "but, on the contrary, is every charity 
 or educational institution bound to scrutinize the 
 source of every benefaction? Isn't it better that 
 money, however acquired, should be used for a good 
 purpose than a bad one ?" 
 
 " That is a question," I said, " that is a vital one 
 in our present situation, and the sophistry of it puz- 
 zles the public. "What would you say to this case ? 
 A man notoriously dishonest, but within the law, 
 and very rich, offered a princely endowment to a 
 college very much in need of it. The sum would 
 have enabled it to do a great work in education. 
 But it was intimated that the man would expect, 
 after a while, to be made one of the trustees. His 
 object, of course, was social position." 
 
 " I suppose, of course," Margaret replied, " that 
 the college couldn't afford that. It would look like 
 bribery." 
 
 " Wouldn't he be satisfied with an LL.D.?" Mor- 
 gan asked. 
 
 " I don't see," my wife said, " any difference be- 
 tween the two cases stated and that of the stock 
 gambler, whose unscrupulous operations have ru- 
 ined thousands of people, who founds a theological 
 seminary with the gains of his slippery transac- 
 tions. By accepting his seminary the public con- 
 dones his conduct. Another man, with the same 
 shaky reputation, endows a college. Do you think 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 247 
 
 that religion and education are benefited in the 
 long-run by this ? It seems to me that the public 
 is gradually losing its power of discrimination be- 
 tween the value of honesty and dishonesty. Real 
 respect is gone when the public sees that a man is 
 able to buy it." 
 
 This was a hot speech for my wife to make. . For 
 a moment Margaret flamed up under it with her 
 old-time indignation. I could see it in her eyes, 
 and then she turned red and confused, and at length 
 said: 
 
 " But wouldn't you have rich men do good with 
 their money V 
 
 " Yes, dear, but I would not have them think 
 they can blot out by their liberality the condemna- 
 tion of the means by which many of them make 
 money. That is what they are doing, and the pub- 
 Uc is getting used to it." 
 
 " "WeU," said Margaret, with some warmth, " I 
 don't know that they are any worse than the stingy 
 saints who have made their money by saving, and 
 act as if they expected to carry it with them." 
 
 " Saints or sinners, it does not make much differ- 
 ence to me," now put in Mrs. Fletcher, who was 
 evidently considering the question from a practical 
 point of view, " what a man professes, if he founds 
 a hospital for indigent women out of the dividends 
 that I never received." 
 
 Morgan laughed. "Don't you think, Mrs. Fletcher, 
 
248 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 that it is a good sign, of the times, that so many- 
 people who make money rapidly are disposed to 
 use it philanthropically ?" 
 
 " It may be for them, but it does not console me 
 much just now." 
 
 " But you don't make allowance enough for the 
 rich. Perhaps they are under a necessity of doing 
 something. I was reading this morning in the di- 
 ary of old John Ward, of Stratford-on-Avon, this 
 sentence : ' It was a saying of N"avisson, a lawyer, 
 that no man could be valiant unless he hazarded 
 his body, nor rich unless he hazarded his soul.' " 
 
 " "Was Navisson a modern lawyer ?" I asked. 
 
 "No; the diary is dated 1648-1679." 
 
 " I thought so." 
 
 There was a little laugh at this, and the talk 
 drifted off into a consideration of the kind of con- 
 science that enables a professional man to espouse 
 a cause he knows to be wrong as zealously as one 
 he knows to be right ; a talk that I should not have 
 remembered at all, except for Margaret's earnest- 
 ness in insisting that she did not see how a lawyer 
 could take up the dishonest side. 
 
 Before Margaret went to Lenox, Henderson spent 
 a few days with us. He brought with him the 
 abounding cheerfulness, and the air of a prosper- 
 ous, smiling world, that attended him in all circum- 
 stances. And how happy Margaret was! They 
 went over every foot of the ground on which their 
 
A Littte Journey in the World. 249 
 
 brief courtship had taken place, and Heaven knows 
 what joy there was to her in reviving all the ten- 
 derness and aU the fear of it ! Busy as Henderson 
 was, pursued by hourly telegrams and letters, we 
 could not but be gratified that his attention to her 
 was that of a lover. How could it be otherwise, 
 when all the promise of the girl was realized in 
 the bloom and the exquisite susceptibility of the 
 woman. Among other things, she dragged him 
 down to her mission in the city, to which he went 
 in a laughing and bantering mood. When he had 
 gone away, Margaret ran over to my wife, bring- 
 ing in her hand a slip of paper. 
 
 " See that !" she cried, her eyes dancing with 
 pleasure. It was a check for a thousand dollars. 
 " That will refurnish the mission from top to bot- 
 tom," she said, " and run it for a year." 
 
 " How generous he is !" cried my wife. Marga- 
 ret did not reply, but she looked at the check, and 
 there were tears in her eyes. 
 
XV. 
 
 The Arbuser cottage at Lenox was really a mag- 
 nificent villa. Eichardson had built it. At a dis- 
 tance it had the appearance of a mediaeval struct- 
 ure, with its low door-ways, picturesque gables, and 
 steep roofs, and in its situation on a gentle swell 
 of green turf backed by native forest-trees it im- 
 parted to the landscape an ancestral tone which is 
 much valued in these days. But near to, it was 
 seen to be medisevalism adapted to the sunny hos- 
 pitality of our summer climate, with generous veran- 
 das and projecting balconies shaded by gay awn- 
 ings, and within spacious, open to the breezes, and 
 from its broad windows offering views of lawns 
 and flower-beds and ornamental trees, of a great 
 sweep of pastures and forests and miniature lakes, 
 with graceful and reposeful hills on the horizon. 
 
 It was, in short, the modern idea of country 
 simplicity. The passion for country hfe, which 
 has been in decadence for nearly half a century, 
 has again become the fashion. Nature, which, left 
 to itself, is a little ragged, not to say monotonous 
 and tiresome, is discovered to be a valuable ally 
 for aid in passing the time when art is able to 
 
A Little Jowrney in the World. 251 
 
 make portions of it exclusive. "What the Arbusers 
 ■wanted was a simple home in the country, and in 
 obtaining it they were indulging a sentiment of 
 returning to the primitive life of their father, who 
 had come to the city from a hill farm, and had 
 been too busy all his life to recur to the tastes of 
 his boyhood. At least that was the theory of his 
 daughters ; but the old gentleman had a horror of 
 his early life, and could scarcely be dragged away 
 from the city even in the summer. He would no 
 doubt have been astonished at the lofty and sub- 
 stantial stone stables, the long range of green- 
 houses, and at a farm which produced nothing ex- 
 cept lawns and flower-beds, ornamental fields of 
 clover, avenues of trees, lawn-tennis grounds, and a 
 few Alderneys tethered to feed among the trees, 
 where their beauty would heighten the rural and 
 domestic aspect of the scene. The Arbusers liked 
 to come to this place as early as possible to escape 
 the society exactions of the city. That was an- 
 other theory of theirs. All their set in the city 
 met there for the same purpose. 
 
 Margaret was welcomed with open arms. 
 
 "We have been counting the days," said the 
 elder of the sisters. "Your luggage has come, 
 your rooms are all ready, and your coachman, who 
 has been here some days, says that the horses need 
 exercise. Everybody is here, and we need you for 
 a hundred things." 
 
252 A lAttle Journey in the World. 
 
 ■ " You are very kind. It is so charming here. I 
 knew it would be, but I couldn't bear to shorten 
 my visit in Brandon." 
 
 " Tour aunt must miss you very much. Is she 
 weU?" 
 
 "Perfectly." 
 
 "Wouldn't she have come with you? I've a 
 mind to telegraph." 
 
 " I think not. She is wedded to quiet, and goes 
 away from her little neighborhood with reluctance." 
 
 " So Brandon was a little dull ?" said Miss Ar- 
 buser, with a shrewd guess at the truth. 
 
 " Oh no," quickly replied Margaret, shrinking a 
 little from what was in her own mind ; " it was 
 restful and delightful ; but you know that we New 
 England people take life rather seriously, and in- 
 quire into the reason of things, and want an ob- 
 ject in life." 
 
 "A very good thing to have," answered this 
 sweet woman of the world, whose object was to go 
 along pleasantly and enjoy it. 
 
 " But to have it aU the time !" Margaret sug- 
 gested, lightly, as she ran up-stairs. But even in 
 this suggestion she was conscious of a twinge of 
 disloyalty to her former self. Deep down in her 
 heart, coming to the atmosphere of Lenox was a 
 relief from questionings that a little disturbed her 
 at her old home, and she was indignant at her- 
 self that it should be so, and then indignant at the 
 
A. Little Journey in the World. 253 
 
 suggfestions that put her out of humor with herself. 
 "Was it a sin, she said, to be happy and prosperous ? 
 
 On her dressing-table was a letter from her hus- 
 band. He was detained in the city by a matter of 
 importance. He scratched only a line, to catch the 
 mail, during a business interview. It was really 
 only a business interview, and had no sort of rela- 
 tion to Lenox or the summer gayety there. 
 
 Henderson was in his private office. The clerks 
 in the outer offices, in the neglige of summer cos- 
 tumes, winked to each other as they saw old Jerry 
 Hollowell enter and make his way to the inner 
 room unannounced. Something was in the wind. 
 
 "Well, old man," said Uncle Jerry, in the cheer- 
 iest manner, coming in, depositing his hat on the 
 table, and taking a seat opposite Henderson, " we 
 seem to have stirred up the animals." 
 
 " Only a little flurry," replied Henderson, laying 
 down his pen and folding a note he had just fin- 
 ished ; " they'll come to reason." 
 
 " They've got to." Mr. Hollowell drew out a big 
 bandanna and mopped his heated face. " I've just 
 got a letter from Jorkins. There's the certificates 
 that make up the two-thirds — more than we need, 
 anyway. No flaw about that, is there ?" 
 
 "]^o. I'll put these with the balance in the 
 safe. It's all right, if Jorkins has been discreet. It 
 may make a newspaper scandal if they get hold of 
 his operations." 
 
254: A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 " Oh, Jorkins is close. But he is a little over- 
 worked. I don't know but it would do him good 
 to have a little nervous prostration and go abroad 
 for a while." 
 
 " I guess it would do Jorkins good to. take a turn 
 in Europe for a year or so." 
 
 " WeU, you write to him. Give him a sort of 
 commission to see the English bondholders, and ex- 
 plain the situation. They will appreciate that half 
 a loaf is better than no bread. What bothers me 
 is the way the American bondholders take it. They 
 kick." 
 
 " Let 'em kick. The public don't care for a few 
 soreheads and impracticables in an operation that 
 is going to open up the whole South-west. I've an 
 appointment with one of them this morning. He 
 ought to be here now." 
 
 At the moment Henderson's private secretary 
 entered and laid on the table the card of Mr. John 
 Hopper, who was invited to come in at once. Mr. 
 Hopper was a man of fifty, with iron-gray hair, a 
 heavy mustache, and a smooth - shaven chin that 
 showed resolution. In dress and manner his ap- 
 pearance was that of the shrewd city capitahst — 
 quiet and determined, who is neither to be deceived 
 nor bullied. "With a courteous greeting to both the 
 men, whom he knew well, he took a seat and stated 
 his business. 
 
 " I have called to see you, Mr. Henderson, about 
 
A LitUe Journey in the World. 255 
 
 the bonds of the A. and B., and I am glad to find 
 Mr. Hollowell here also." 
 
 "What amount do you represent, Mr. Hopper?" 
 asked Henderson. 
 
 " With my own and my friends', altogether, rising 
 a million. What do you propose ?" 
 
 " Tou got our circular ?" 
 
 " Yes, and we don't accept the terms." 
 
 " I'm sorry. It is the best that we could do." 
 
 " That is, the best you wovdd do !" 
 
 " Pardon me, Mr. Hopper, the best we could do 
 under the circumstances. We gave you your op- 
 tion, to scale down on a fair estimate of the earn- 
 ings of the short line (the A. and B.), or to surren- 
 der your local bonds and take new ones covering 
 the whole consolidation, or, as is of course in your 
 discretion, to hold on and take the chances." 
 
 "Which your operations have practically de- 
 stroyed." 
 
 " ISTot at all, Mr. Hopper. We offer you a much 
 better security on the whole system instead of a 
 local road." 
 
 "And you mean to tell me, Mr. Henderson, that 
 it is for our advantage to exchange a seven per cent, 
 bond on a road that has always paid its interest 
 promptly, for a four and a half on a system that is 
 manipulated nobody knows how ? I tell you, gen- 
 tlemen, that it looks to outsiders as if there was 
 crookedness somewhere." 
 
256 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 " That is a rather rough charge, Mr. Hopper," 
 said Henderson, with a smile. 
 
 " But we are to understand that if we do not ac- 
 cept your terms, it's a freeze-out ?" 
 
 " You are to understand that we want to make 
 the best arrangement possible for all parties in in- 
 terest." 
 
 " How some of those interests were acquired may 
 be a question for the courts," replied Mr. Hopper, 
 resolutely. "When we put our money in good 
 seven per cent, bonds, we propose to inquire into 
 the right of anybody to demand that we shall ex- 
 change them for four and a half per cents, on other 
 security." 
 
 " Perfectly right, Mr. Hopper," said Henderson, 
 with imperturbable good -humor; "the transfer 
 books are open to your inspection." 
 
 " "Well, we prefer to hold on to our bonds." 
 
 "And wait for your interest," interposed Hollowell. 
 
 Mr. Hopper turned to the speaker. " And while 
 we are waiting we propose to inquire what has be- 
 come of the surplus of the A. and B. The bond- 
 holders had the first claim on the entire property." 
 
 " And we propose to protect it. See here, Mr. 
 Hopper," continued Uncle Jerry, with a most be- 
 nevolent expression, " I needn't tell you that invest- 
 ments fluctuate — the Lord knows mine do! The 
 A. and B. was a good road. I know that. But it 
 was going to be paralleled. We'd got to paraUel 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 257 
 
 it to make our South-west connections. If we had, 
 you'd have waited tiR the Gulf of Mexico freezes 
 over before you got any coupons paid. Instead of 
 that, we took it into our system, and it's being put 
 on a permanent basis. It's a little inconvenient for 
 holders, and they have got to stand a little shrink- 
 age, but in the long-run it will be better for every- 
 body. The little road couldn't stand alone, and the 
 day of big interest is about over." 
 
 " That explanation may satisfy you, Mr. HoUo- 
 weU, but it don't give us our money, and I notify 
 you that we shall carry the matter into the courts. 
 Good-morning." 
 
 "When Mr. Hopper had gone, the two developers 
 looked at each other a moment seriously. 
 
 " Hopper 'U fight," HolloweU said at last. 
 
 " And we have got the surplus to fight him with," 
 replied Henderson. 
 
 " That's so," and Uncle Jerry chuckled to him- 
 self. " The rats that are on the inside of the crib 
 are a good deal better off than the rats on the out- 
 side." 
 
 " The reporter of The Planet wants five minutes," 
 announced the secretary, opening the door. Hen- 
 derson told him to let him in. 
 
 The reporter was a spruce young gentleman, in 
 a loud summer suit, with a rose in his button-hole, 
 and the air of assurance which befits the commis- 
 sioner of the pubhc curiosity. 
 17 
 
258 A LitUe Jourriey in the World. 
 
 " I am sent by The Planet" said the young man, 
 "to show you this and ask you if you have any- 
 thing to say to it." 
 
 " What is it ?" asked Henderson. 
 
 " It's about the A. and B." 
 
 " Yery well. There is the president, Mr. Hollo- 
 well. Show it to him." 
 
 The reportier produced a long printed slip and 
 handed it to Uncle Jerry, who took it and began 
 to read. As his eye ran down the column he was 
 apparently more and more interested, and he let it 
 be shown on his face that he was surprised, and 
 even a httle astonished. When he had finished, he 
 said: 
 
 " Well, my young friend, how did you get hold 
 of this.?" 
 
 " Oh, we have a way," said the reporter, twirl- 
 ing his straw hat by the elastic, and looking more 
 knowing than old Jerry himself. 
 
 " So I see," replied Jerry, with an admiring smile ; 
 " there is nothing that you newspaper folks don't 
 find out. It beats the devil !" 
 
 "Is it true, sir?" said the young gentleman, 
 elated with this recognition of his own shrewdness. 
 
 " It is so true that there is no fun it. I don't see 
 how the devil you got hold of it." 
 
 " Have you any explanations ?" 
 
 " No, I guess not," said Uncle Jerry, musingly. 
 " If it is to come out, I'd rather The Plcmet would 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 259 
 
 have it than any other paper. It's got some sense. 
 No ; print it. It'll be a big beat for your paper. 
 While you are about it — I s'pose you'll print it 
 anyway?" (the reporter nodded) — "you might as 
 well have the whole story." 
 
 " Certainly. "We'd like to have it right. What 
 is wrong about it ?" 
 
 " Oh, nothing but some details. You have got 
 it substantially. There's a word or two and a date 
 you are out on, naturally enough, and there are two 
 or three little things that would be exactly true if 
 they were differently stated." 
 
 " Would you mind telling me what they are ?" 
 
 " No," said Jerry, with a little reluctance ; " might 
 as well have it aU out — eh, Henderson ?" 
 
 And the old man took his pencil and changed 
 some dates and a name or two, and gave to some 
 of the sentences a turn that seemed to the reporter 
 only another way of saying the same thing. 
 
 " There, that is all I know. Give my respects to 
 Mr. Goss." 
 
 When the commissioner had withdrawn, Uncle 
 Jerry gave vent to a long whistle. Then he rose 
 suddenly and called to the secretary, "Tell that 
 reporter to come back." The reporter reappeared. 
 
 " I was just thinking, and you can teU Mr. Goss, 
 that now you have got onto this thing, you might 
 as well keep the lead on' it. The public is inter- 
 ested in what we are doing in the South-west, and 
 
260 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 if you, or some other bright fellow who has got 
 eyes in his head, wiU go down there, he will see 
 something that will astonish him. I'm going to- 
 morrow in my private car, and if you could go 
 along, I assure you a good time. I want you to 
 see for yourself, and I guess you would. Don't 
 take my word. I can't give you any passes, and 
 I know you don't want any, but you can just get 
 into my private car and no expense to anybody, and 
 see all there is to be seen. Ask Goss, and let me 
 know to-night." 
 
 The young fellow went off feeling several inches 
 higher than when he came in. Such is the power 
 of a good address, and such is the omnipotence 
 of the great organ. Mr. Jerry HoUoweH sat down 
 and began to fan Mmself. It was very hot in the 
 office. 
 
 "Seems to me it's lunch -time. Great Scott! 
 what a lot of time I used to waste fighting the 
 newspapers! That thing would have played the 
 devil as it stood. It will be comparatively harm- 
 less now. It wiU make a httle talk, but there is 
 nothing to get hold of. Queer, about the differ- 
 ence of a word or two. Come, old man, I'm 
 thirsty." 
 
 " Uncle Jerry," said Henderson, taking his arm 
 as they went out, " you ought to be President of 
 the United States." 
 
 " The salary is too small," said Uncle Jerry. 
 
A Little Jov/mey in the World. 261 
 
 Of all this there was nothing to write to Mar- 
 garet, who was passing her time agreeably in the 
 Berkshire hiUs, a little impatient for her husband's 
 arrival, postponed from day to day, and full of 
 sympathy for him, condemned to the hot city and 
 the harassment of a business the magnitude of 
 which gave him the obligations and the character 
 of a pubhc man. Henderson sent her instead a 
 column from The Planet devoted to a description 
 of his private hbrary. Mr. Goss, the editor, who 
 was college bred, had been round to talk with 
 Henderson about the South-west trip, and the con- 
 versation drifting into other matters, Henderson 
 had taken from his desk and shown him a rare old 
 book which he had picked up the day before in a 
 second-hand shop. This led to further talk about 
 Henderson's hobby, and the editor had asked per- 
 mission to send a reporter down to make a note 
 of Henderson's collection. It would make a good 
 midsummer item, " The Stock - Broker in Litera- 
 ture," " The Private Tastes of a Millionaire," etc. 
 The column got condensed into a portable para- 
 graph, and went the rounds of the press, and 
 changed the opinions of a good many people about 
 the great operator — he wasn't altogether devoted 
 to vulgar money -making. Uncle Jerry himself 
 read the column with appreciation of its value. 
 " It diverts the public mind," he said. He himself 
 had recently diverted the public mind by the gift 
 
262 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 of a bell to the Norembega Theological, (colored) 
 Institute, and the paragraph announcing the fact 
 conveyed the impression that while Uncle Jerry- 
 was a canny old customer, his heart was on the 
 right side. "There are worse men than Uncle 
 Jerry who are not worth a cent," was one of the 
 humorous paragraphs tacked on to the item. 
 
 Margaret was not alone in finding the social at- 
 mosphere of Lenox as congenial as its natural beau- 
 ties. Mrs. Laflamme declared that it was the per- 
 fection of existence for a couple of months, one in 
 early summer and another in the golden autumn 
 with its pathetic note of the falhng curtain drop- 
 ping upon the dream of youth. Mrs. Laflamme 
 was not a sentimental person, but she was capable 
 of drifting for a moment into a poetic mood — a 
 great charm in a woman of her vivacity and air 
 of the world. Margaret remembered her very dis- 
 tinctly, although she had only exchanged a word 
 with her at the memorable dinner in New York 
 when Henderson had revealed her feehngs to her- 
 self. Mrs. Laflamme had the immense advantage 
 — it seemed so to her after five years of widowhood 
 — of being a widow on the sunny side of thirty- 
 five. If she had lost some illusions she had gained 
 a great deal of knowledge, and she had no fever- 
 ish anxiety about what life would bring her. Al- 
 though she would not put it in this way to herself, 
 she could look about her deliberately, enjoying the 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 263 
 
 prospect, and please herself. Her position had two 
 advantages — experience and opportunity. A young 
 woman unmarried, she said, always has the uneasy 
 sense of the possibility — well, it is impossible to es- 
 cape slang, and she said it with the merriest laugh 
 — the possibility of being left. A day or two after 
 Margaret's arrival she had driven around to call in 
 her dog-cart, looking as fresh as a daisy in her sun- 
 hat. She held the reins, but her seat was shared 
 by Mr. Fox McNaughton, the most useful man in 
 the village, indispensable indeed ; a bachelor, with 
 no intentions, no occupation, no ambition (except 
 to lead the german), who could mix a salad, brew 
 a punch, organize a picnic, and chaperon anything 
 in petticoats with entire propriety, without regard 
 to age. And he had a position of social authority. 
 This eminence Mr. Fox McNaughton had attained 
 by always doing the correct thing. The obUgation 
 of society to such men is never enough acknowl- 
 edged. While they are trusted and used, and 
 worked to death, one is apt to hear them spoken 
 of in a deprecatory tone. 
 
 " You hold the reins a moment, please. ISTo, I 
 don't want any help," she said, as she jumped down 
 with an elastic spring, and introduced him to Mar- 
 garet. " I've got Mr. McKaughton in training, and 
 am thinking of bringing him out." 
 
 She walked in with Margaret, chatting about the 
 view and the house and the divine weather. 
 
264 A Little Journey in the Wwld. 
 
 "And your husband has not come yet?" 
 
 " He may come any day. I think business might 
 suspend in the summer." 
 
 " So do I. But then, what would become of 
 Lenox ? It is rather hard on the men, only I dare 
 say they like it. Don't you think Mr. Henderson 
 ^ould hke a place here ?" 
 
 " He cannot help being pleased with Lenox." 
 
 '" I'm sure he would if you are. I have hardly 
 seen him since that evening at the Stotts'. Can 
 I teU you? — I almost had five minutes of envy 
 that evening. You won't mind it in such an old 
 woman?" 
 
 " I should rather trust your heart than your age, 
 Mrs. Laflamme," said Margaret, with a laugh. 
 
 " Yes, my heart is as old as my face. But I had 
 a feehng, seeing you walk away that evening into 
 the conservatory. I knew what was coming. I 
 think I have discovered a great secret, Mrs. Hen- 
 derson — to be able to live over again in other peo- 
 ple. By-the-way, what has become of that quiet 
 Englishman, Mr. Lyon ?" 
 
 " He has come into his title. He is the Earl of 
 Chisholm." 
 
 " Dear me, how stupid in us not to have taken a 
 sense of that ! And the EscheUes — do you know 
 anything of the EscheUes ?" 
 
 " Yes ; they are at their house in Newport." 
 
 " Do you think there was anything between Miss 
 
A lAttle Journey m the World. 265 
 
 Eschelle and Mr. Lyon? I saw her afterwards 
 several times." 
 
 " Not that I ever heard. Miss Eschelle says that 
 she is thoroughly American in her tastes." 
 
 " Then her tastes are not quite conformed to her 
 style. Thlat girl might be anything — Queen of 
 Spain, or coryphee in the opera baUet. She is clever 
 as clever. One always expects to hear of her as the 
 heroine of an adventure." 
 
 " Didn't you say yoii knew her in Europe ?" 
 
 " No. We heard of her and her mother every- 
 where. She was very independent. She had the 
 sort of reputation to excite curiosity. But I no- 
 ticed that the men iii New York were a little afraid 
 of her. She is a woman who likes to drive very 
 near the edge." 
 
 Mrs. Laflamme rose. "I must not keep Mr. 
 McNaughton waiting for any more of my gossip. 
 "We expect you and the Misses Arbuser this after- 
 noon. I warn you it will be dull. I should like to 
 hear of some summer resort where the men are 
 over sixteen and under sixty." 
 
 Mrs. Laflamme liked to drive near the edge as 
 much as Carmen did, and this piquancy was unde- 
 niably an attraction in her case. But there was 
 this difference between the two : there was a con- 
 fidence that Mrs. Laflamme would never drive over 
 the edge, whereas no one could tell what sheer Car- 
 men might not suddenly take. A woman's reputa- 
 
266 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 tion is almost as much affected by the expectation 
 of what she may do as by anything she has done. 
 It was Fox McNaughton who set up the dictum 
 that a woman may do almost anything if it is 
 known that she draws a line somewhere. 
 
 The lawn party was not at all dull to Margaret. 
 In the first place, she received a great deal of atten- 
 tion. Henderson's name was becoming very well 
 known, and it was natural that the splendor of his 
 advancing fortune should be reflected in the person 
 of his young wife, whose loveliness was enhanced 
 by her simple enjoyment of the passing hour. Then 
 the toilets of the women were so fresh and charm- 
 ing, the colors grouped so prettily on the green- 
 sward, the figures of the slender girls playing at 
 tennis or lounging on the benches under the trees, 
 recalled scenes from the classic poets. It was aU 
 so rich and refined. Nor did she miss the men of 
 miUtary age, whose absence Mrs. Laflamme had de- 
 plored, for she thought of her husband. And, be- 
 sides, she found even the college boys (who are 
 always spoken of as men) amusing, and the elder- 
 ly gentlemen — upon whom watering-place socie- 
 ty throws much responsibility — gallant, facetious, 
 complimentary, and active in whatever was afoot. 
 Their boyishness, indeed, contrasted with the grav- 
 ity of the undergraduates, who took themselves 
 very seriously, were civil to the young ladies, confi- 
 dential with the married women, and had generally 
 
A Little Jowrney in the World. 267 
 
 a certain reserve and dignity which belong to per- 
 sons upon whom such heavy responsibility rests. 
 There were, to be' sure, men who looked bored, and 
 women who were listless, missing the stimulus of 
 any personal interest ; but the scene was so animat- 
 ed, the weather so propitious, that, on the whole, a 
 person must be very cynical not to find the occasion 
 dehghtful. 
 
 There was a young novelist present whose first 
 story, " The Girl I Left Behind Me," had made a 
 hit the last season. It was thought to take a pro- 
 found hold upon fife, because it was a book that 
 could not be read aloud in a mixed company. Mar- 
 garet was very mijsh interested in him, although . 
 Mr. Summers Bass was not her idea of an imagi- 
 native writer. He was a stout young gentleman, 
 with very black hair and smaU black eyes, to 
 which it was diflBcult to give a melancholy cast 
 even by an habitual frown. Mr. Bass dressed him- 
 self scrupulously in the fashion, was very exact in 
 his pronunciation, careful about his manner, and 
 had the air of a little weariness, of the responsi- 
 bihty of one looking at life. It was only at rare 
 moments that his face expressed intensity of feel- 
 ing. 
 
 " It is a very pretty scene. I suppose, Mr. Bass, 
 that you are making studies," said Margaret, by 
 way of opening a conversation. 
 
 "Ko; hardly that. One must always observe. 
 
268 A LitUe Journey in the World. 
 
 It gets to be a habit. The thing is to see reality 
 under appearances." 
 
 " Then you would call yourself a realist ?" 
 Mr. Bass smiled. " That is a slang term, Mrs. 
 Henderson. "What you want is nature, color, pas- 
 sion — to pierce the artificialities." 
 " But you must describe appearance." 
 " Certainly, to an extent — form, action, talk as it 
 is, even trivialities — especially the trivialities, for 
 life is made up of the trivial." 
 
 " But suppose that does not interest me ?" 
 " Pardon me, Mrs. Henderson, that is because you 
 are used to the conventional, the selected. Nature 
 is always interesting." 
 " I do not find it so." 
 
 " ITo ? Nature has been covered up ; it has been 
 idealized. Look yonder," and Mr. Bass pointed 
 across the lawn. " See that young woman upon 
 whom the sunlight falls standing waiting her turn. 
 See the quivering of the eyelids, the heaving of the 
 chest, the opening Ups ; note the curve of her waist 
 from the shoulder, and the line rounding into the 
 fall of the folds of the Austrian cashmere. I try to 
 saturate myself with that form, to impress myself 
 with her every attitude and gesture, her color, her 
 movement, and then I shall imagine the form under 
 the influence of passion. Every detail wiU tell. I 
 do not find unimportant the tie of her shoe. The 
 picture wiU be life." 
 
A Zittle Journey in the World. 269 
 
 " But suppose, Mr. Bass, whea you come to speak 
 with her, you find that she has no ideas, and talks 
 slang." 
 
 "All the better. It shows what we are, what 
 our society is. And besides, Mrs. Henderson, near- 
 ly everybody has the capacity of being wicked ; that 
 is to say, of expressing emotion." 
 
 " You take a gloomy view, Mr. Bass." 
 
 " I take no view, Mrs. Henderson. My ambition 
 is to record. It will not help matters by pretend- 
 ing that people are better than they are." 
 
 " "Well, Mr. Bass, you may be quite right, but I 
 am not going to let you spoil my enjoyment of this . 
 lovely scene," said Margaret, moving away. Mr. 
 Bass watched her until she disappeared, and then 
 entered in his note-book a phrase for future use — 
 " The prosperous propriety of a pretty plutocrat." 
 He was gathering materials for his forthcoming 
 bbok, " The Last Sigh of the Prude." 
 
 The whole world knows how delightful Lenox is. 
 It even has a club where the men can take refuge 
 from the exactions of society, as in the city. The 
 town is old enough to have " histories " ; there is a 
 romance attached to nearly every estate, a tragedy 
 of beauty, and money, and disappointment ; great 
 writers have lived here, families whose names were 
 connected with our early politics and diplomacy ; 
 there is a tradition of a society of wit and letters, 
 of women whose charms were enhanced by a spice 
 
270 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 of adventure, of men whose social brilliancy ended 
 in misanthropy. AH this gave a background of dis- 
 tinction to the present gayety, luxury, and adapta- 
 tion of the unsurpassed loveliness of nature to the 
 refined fashion of the age. 
 
 Here, if anywhere, one could be above worry, 
 above the passion of envy ; for did not every new 
 "improvement" and every new refinement in living 
 add to the importance of every member of this fa- 
 vored community ? For Margaret it was all a pag- 
 eant of beauty. The Misses Arbuser tallced about 
 the quality of the air, the variety of the scenery, 
 the exhilaration of the drives, the freedom from 
 noise and dust, the country quiet. There were the 
 morning calls, the intellectual life of the reading 
 clubs, the tennis parties, the afternoon teas, com- 
 bined with charming drives from one elegant place 
 to another ; the siestas, the idle swinging in ham- 
 mocks, with the latest magazine from which to get 
 a topic for dinner, the mild excitement of a tete-a- 
 t^te which might discover congenial tastes or run 
 on into an interesting attachment. Half the charm 
 of life, says a philosopher, is in these personal ex- 
 periments. 
 
 When Henderson came, as he did several times 
 for a few days, Margaret's happiness was complete. 
 She basked in the sun of his easy enjoyment of life. 
 She liked to take him about with her, and see the 
 welcome in aU companies of a man so handsome, 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 271 
 
 so natural and cordial, as her husband. Especially 
 did she hke the consideration in which he was evi- 
 dently held at the club, where the members gath- 
 ered about him to hsten to his racy talk and catch 
 points about the market. She hked to think that 
 he was not a women's man. He gave her his ver- 
 sion of some recent transactions that had been com- 
 mented on in the newspapers, and she was indig- 
 nant over the insinuations about him. It was the 
 price, he said, that everybody had to pay for suc- 
 cess. Why shouldn't he, she reflected, make money ? 
 Everybody would if they could, and no one knew 
 how generous he was. If she had been told that 
 the family of Jerry HoUowell thought of him in 
 the same way, she would have said that there was 
 a world-wide difference in the two men. Insensi- 
 bly she was losing the old standards she used to 
 apply to success. Here in Lenox, in this prosper- 
 ous, agreeable world, there was nothing to remind 
 her of them. 
 
 In her enjoyment of this existence without care, 
 I do not suppose it occurred to her to examine if 
 her ideals had been lowered. Sometimes Hender- 
 son had a cynical, mocking tone about the world, 
 which she reproved with a caress, but he was al- 
 ways tolerant and good-natured. If he had told 
 her that he acted upon the maxim that every man 
 and woman has his and her price she would have 
 been shocked, but she was getting to make aUow- 
 
272 A LitUe Journey in the World. 
 
 ances tliat she would not have made before she 
 learned to look at the world through his eyes. She 
 could see that the Brandon circle was over-scrupu- 
 lous. Her feeling of this would have been con- 
 firmed if she had known that when her aunt read 
 the letter announcing a month's visit to the Es- 
 cheUes in Newport, she laid it down with a sigh. 
 
XVI. 
 
 Uncle Jeeey was sitting on the piazza of the 
 Ocean House, absorbed in the stock reports of a 
 New York journal, answering at random the occa- 
 sional observations of his wife, who fiUed up one of 
 the spacious chairs near him. — a florid woman, with 
 diamonds in her ears, who had the resolute air of 
 enjoying herself. It was an August Newport morn- 
 ing, when there is a salty freshness in the air, but a 
 temperature that discourages exertion. 
 
 A pony phaeton dashed by containing two ladies. 
 The- ponies were cream-colored, with flowing manes 
 and tails, and harness of black and gold ; the phae- 
 ton had yellow wheels with a black body ; the di- 
 minutive page with folded arms, on the seat behind, 
 wore a black jacket and yellow breeches. The lady 
 who held the yellow silk reins was a blonde with 
 dark eyes. As they flashed by, the lady on the 
 seat with her bowed, and Mr. Hollowell returned 
 the salute. 
 
 "Who's that 8" asked Mrs. HolloweU. 
 
 " That's Mrs. Henderson." 
 
 " And the other one ?" 
 18 
 
274 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 " I don't know her. She knows how to handle 
 the ribbons, though." 
 
 "I seen her at the. Casino the other night, before 
 you come, with that tandem-driving count. I don't 
 beUeve he's any more count than you are." 
 
 " Oh, he's all right. He's one of the Spanish le- 
 gation. This is just the placefor counts. I shouldn't 
 wonder, Maria, if you'd like to be a countess. "We 
 can afford it — the Countess Jeremiah, eh?" and 
 Uncle Jerry's eyes twinkled. 
 
 " Don't be a goose, Mr. HoUowell," bringing her 
 fat hands round in front of her, so that she could 
 see the sparkle of the diamond rings on them. 
 " She's as pretty as a picture, that girl, but I 
 should, think a good wind would blow her away. 
 I shouldn't want to have her drive me round." 
 
 " Jorkins has sailed," said Mr. HoUowell, look- 
 ing up from his paper. " The Planet reporter tried 
 to interview him, but he played sick, said he was 
 just going over and right back for a change. I 
 guess it will be long enough before they get a 
 chance at him again." ; 
 
 "I'm glad he's gone. I hope the papers will 
 mind their own business for a spell." 
 
 The house of the Eschelles was on the sea, look- 
 ing over a vast sweep of lawn to the cliff and the 
 dimpling blue water of the first beach. It was 
 known as the Yellow Villa. Coming from the ele- 
 gance of Lenox, Margaret was surprised at the 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 275 
 
 magnificence and luxury of this establishment, tlie 
 great drawing-rooms, the spacious chambers, the 
 wide verandas, the pictures, the flowers, the charm- 
 ing nooks and recessed windows, with handy book- 
 stands, and tables littered with the freshest and 
 most-talked-of issues from the press of Paris, Ma- 
 drid, and London. Carmen had taken a hint from 
 Henderson's bachelor apartment, which she had 
 visited once with her mother, and though she had 
 no literary taste, further than to dip in here and 
 there to what she found toothsome and exciting in 
 various languages, yet she knew the effect of the _ 
 atmosphere of'books, and she had a standing order 
 at a book-shop for whatever was fresh and lilcely 
 to come into notice. 
 
 And Carmen was a delightful hostess, both be- 
 cause her laziness gave an air of repose to the 
 place, and she had the tact never to appear to make 
 any demands upon her guests, and because she 
 knew when to be piquant and exhibit personal in- 
 terest, and when to show even a little abandon of 
 vivacity. Society flowed through her house with- 
 out any obstructions. It was scarcely ever too early 
 and never too late for visitors. Those who were 
 intimate used to lounge in and take up a book, or 
 pass an hour on the veranda, even when none of 
 the family were at home. Men had a habit of 
 dropping in for a five o'clock cup of tea, and where 
 the men went the women needed little urging to 
 
276 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 follow. At first there had been some reluctance 
 about recognizing the Eschelles fully, and there 
 were still houses that exhibited a certain reserve 
 towards them, but the example of going to this 
 house set by the legations, the members of which 
 enjoyed a chat with Miss Eschelle in the free- 
 dom of their own tongues and the freedom of her 
 tongue, went far to break down this barrier. They 
 were spoken of occasionally as " those Eschelles," 
 but almost everybody went there, and perhaps 
 enjoyed it all the more because there had been a 
 shade of doubt about it. 
 
 Margaret's coming was a good card for Carmen. 
 The little legend about her French ancestry in 
 Newport, and the romantic marriage in Rocham- 
 beau's time, had been elaborated in the local news- 
 paper, and when she appeared the ancestral flavor, 
 coupled with the knowledge of Henderson's ac- 
 cumulating millions, lent an interest and a certain 
 charm to whatever she said and did. The Eschelle 
 house became more attractive than ever before, so 
 much so that Mrs. Eschelle declared that she longed 
 for the quiet of Paris. To her motherly apprehen- 
 sion there was no result in this whirl of gayety, no 
 serious intention discoverable in any of the train 
 that followed Carmen. " You act, child," she said, 
 " as if youth would last forever." 
 
 Margaret entered into this life as if she had been 
 born to it. Perhaps she was. Perhaps most people 
 
A Little Journey In the World. 277 
 
 never find the career for which they are fitted, 
 and struggle along at cross -purposes with them- 
 selves. "We aU thought that Margaret's natural 
 bent was for some useful and self-sacrificing work 
 in the world, and never could have imagined that 
 under any circumstances she would develop into a 
 woman of fashion. 
 
 "I intend to read a great deal this month," she 
 said to Carmen on her arrival, as she glanced at 
 the litter of books. 
 
 "That was my intention," replied Carmen; 
 "now we can read together. I'm taking Spanish 
 lessons of Count Crispo. I've learned two Spanish 
 poems and a Castilian dance." 
 
 "Is he married?" 
 
 " Not now. He told me, when he was teaching 
 me the steps, that his heart was buried in Seville." 
 
 " He seems to be full of sentiment." 
 
 " Perhaps that is because his salary is so small. 
 Mamma says, of all things an impecunious count ! ■ 
 But he is amusing." 
 
 " But what do you care for money ?" asked Mar- 
 garet, by way of testing Carmen's motives. 
 
 " Ifothing, my dear. But deliver me from a hus- 
 band who is poor ; he would certainly be a tyrant. 
 Besides, if I ever marry, it will be with an Amer- 
 ican." 
 
 " But suppose you fall in love with a poor man ?" 
 
 " That would be against my principles. Never 
 
278 A lAtUe Journey in the World. 
 
 fall below your ideals — that is what I heard a 
 speaker say at the Town and Country Club, and 
 that is my notion. There is no safety for you if 
 you lose your principles." 
 
 " That depends upon what they are," said Mar- 
 garet, in the same bantering tone. 
 
 "That sounds like good Mr. Lyon. I suspect 
 he thought I hadn't any. Mamma said I tried to 
 shock him ; but he shocked me. Do you think you 
 could live with such a man twenty-four hours, even 
 if he had his crown on ?" 
 
 " I can imagine a great deal worse husbands than 
 the Earl of Chisholm." 
 
 " "Well, I haven't any imagination." 
 
 There was no reading that day nor the next. 
 In the morning there was a drive with the ponies 
 through town, in the afternoon in the carriage by 
 the sea, with a couple of receptions, the five o'clock 
 tea, with its chatter, and in the evening a dinner 
 .party for Margaret. One day sufficed to launch 
 her, and thereafter Carmen had only admiration 
 for the unflagging spirit which Margaret displayed. 
 "If you were only unmarried," she said, "what 
 larks we could have !" Margaret looked grave at 
 this, but only for a moment, for she well knew 
 that she could not please her husband better than 
 by enjoying the season to the full. He never crit- 
 icised her for taking the world as it is; and she 
 confessed to herself that life went very pleasantly 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 279 
 
 in a house where there were never any questions 
 raised about duties. The really serious thought in 
 Carmen's mind was that perhaps after all a woman 
 had no real freedom until she was married. And 
 she began to be interested in Margaret's enjoy- 
 ment of the world. 
 
 It was not, after all, a new world, only newly 
 arranged, hke another scene in the same play. The 
 actors, who came and went, were for the most part 
 the acquaintances of the "Washington winter, and 
 the callers and diners and opera-goers and chari- 
 ty managers of the city. In these days Margaret 
 was quite at home with the old set: the British 
 Minister, the Belgian, the French, the Spanish, the 
 Mexican, the German, and the Italian, with their 
 families and attaches — nothing was wanting, not 
 even the Chinese mandarin, who had rooms at the 
 hotel, going about everywhere in the conscientious 
 discharge of his duties as ambassador to American 
 society, a great favorite on account of his silk ap- 
 parel, which gave him the appearance of a clumsy 
 woman, and the everlasting, three-thousand-year- 
 old smile on his broad face, punctiliously leaving 
 in every house a big flaring red piece of paper 
 which the ladies pinned up for a decoration; a 
 picture of helpless, child-hke enjoyment, and almost 
 independent of the interpreter who followed him 
 about, when he had learned, upon being introduced 
 to a lady, or taking a cup of tea, to say " good-bye " 
 
280 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 as distinctly as an articulating machine; a truly 
 learned man, setting an example of civility and 
 perfect self-possession, but keenly observant of the 
 oddities of the social life to which his missionary 
 government had accredited him. One would like 
 to have heard the comments of the minister and 
 his suite upon our manners ; but perhaps they were 
 too polite to make any even in their seclusion. 
 Certain it is that no one ever heard any of the 
 legation express any opinion but the most suave 
 and flattering. 
 
 And yet they must have been amazed at the 
 activity of this season of repose, the endurance of 
 American women who rode to the fox meets, were 
 excited spectators of the polo, played lawn-tennis, 
 were incessantly dining and caUing, and sat through 
 long dinners served with the formality and dulness 
 and the swarms of liveried attendants of a royal 
 feast. And they could not but admire the young 
 men, who did not care for poUtics or any business 
 beyond the chances of the stock exchange, but 
 who expended an immense amount of energy in 
 the dangerous polo contests, in riding at fences 
 after the scent-bag, in driving tandems and four-in- 
 hands, and yet had time to dress in the cut and 
 shade demanded by every changing hour. 
 
 Formerly the annual chronicle of this summer 
 pageant, in which the same women appeared day 
 after day, and the same things were done over and 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 281 
 
 over again, Margaret used to read with a contempt 
 for the life ; but that she enjoyed it, now she was 
 a part of it, shows that the chroniclers for the 
 press were unable to catch the spirit of it, the ex- 
 citement of the personal encounters that made it 
 new every day. Looking at a ball is quite another 
 thing from dancing. 
 
 " Yes, it is lively enough," said Mr. Ponsonby, 
 one afternoon when they had returned from the 
 polo grounds and were seated on the veranda. Mr. 
 Ponsonby was a middle-aged Enghshman, whose 
 diplomatic labors at various courts had worn a 
 bald spot on his crown. Carmen had not yet 
 come, and they were waiting for a cup of tea. 
 " And they ride well ; but I think I rather prefer 
 the Wild West Show." 
 
 " You Englishmen," Margaret retorted^ " seem to 
 like the uncivilized. Are you all tired of civiliza- 
 tion?" 
 
 " Of some kinds. When we get through with 
 the London season, you know, Mrs. Henderson, we 
 like to rough it, as you call it, for some months. 
 But, 'pon my word, I can't see much difference be- 
 tween Washington and Newport." 
 
 " We might get up a Wild West Show here, or a 
 prize-fight, for you. Do you know, Mr. Ponsonby, 
 I think it will take f uU another century for women 
 to really civilize men." 
 
 " How so ?" 
 
282 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 " Get the cruelty and love of brutal sports out 
 of them." 
 
 " Then you'd cease to like us. Nothing is so in- 
 sipid, I fancy, to a woman as a man made in her 
 own image." 
 
 "WeU, what have you against Newport?" 
 
 "Against it? I'm sure nothing could be better 
 than this." And Mr. Ponsonby allowed his advent- 
 urous eyes to rest for a moment upon Margaret's 
 trim figure, until he saw a flush in her face. " This 
 prospect," he added, turning to the sea, where a 
 few sails took the slant rays of the sun. 
 
 " ' Where every prospect pleases,' " quoted Mar- 
 garet, " ' and only man — ' " 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Mrs. Henderson; men are not 
 to be considered. The women in Newport would 
 make the place a paradise even if it were a desert." 
 
 " That is another thing I object to in men." 
 
 "What's that?" 
 
 "Flattery. You don't say such things to each 
 other at the club. What is your objection to New- 
 port?" 
 
 " I didn't say I had any. But if you compel me 
 • — well, the whole thing seems to be a kind of imi- 
 tation." 
 
 " How ?" 
 
 " Oh, the way things go on — the steeple-chasing 
 and fox-hunting, and the carts, and the style of the 
 swell Entertainments. Is that ill-natured ?" 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 283 
 
 "JS'ot at all. I like candor, especially English 
 candor. But there is Miss Eschelle." 
 
 Carmen drove up with Count Orispo, threw the 
 reins to the groom, and reached the ground with a 
 iouch on the shoulder of the count, who had ahght- 
 ed to help her down. 
 
 * " Carmen," said Margaret, " Mr. Ponsonby says 
 that all Newport is just an imitation." 
 
 " Of course it is. We are all imitations, except 
 Count Crispo. I'll bet a cup of tea against a pair 
 of gloves," said Carmen, who had facility in pick- 
 ing up information, "that Mr. Ponsonby wasn't 
 born in England." 
 
 Mr. Ponsonby looked redder than usual, and then 
 laughed, and said, ""Well, I was only three years 
 old when I left Halifax." 
 
 " I knew it !" cried Carmen, clapping her hands. 
 " Now come in and have a cup of English breakfast 
 tea. That's imitation too." 
 
 " The mistake you made," said Margaret, " was 
 not being born in Spain." 
 
 " Perhaps it's not irreparable," the count inter- 
 posed, with an air of gallantry. 
 
 " No, no," said Carmen, audaciously ; " by this 
 time I should be buried in Seville. No, I should 
 prefer Halifax, for it would have been a pleasure to 
 emigrate from Halifax. "Was it not, Mr. Ponsonby ?" 
 
 " I can't remember. But it is a pleasure to so- 
 journ in any land with Miss Eschelle." 
 
284 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 "Thank you. Now you shall have two cups. 
 Come." 
 
 The next morning, Mr. Jerry HoUowell, having 
 inquired where Margaret was staying, called to pay 
 his respects, as he phrased it. Carmen, who was 
 with Margaret in the morning-room, received him 
 with her most distinguished manner. " We all kno^ 
 Mr. Hollowell," she said. 
 
 " That's not always an advantage," retorted Un- 
 cle Jerry, seating himself, and depositing his hat 
 beside his chair. " When do you expect your hus- 
 band, Mrs. Henderson ?" 
 
 " To-morrow. But I don't mean to tell him that 
 you are here — not at first." 
 
 " No," said Carmen ; " we women want Mr. Hen- 
 derson a little while to ourselves." 
 
 "Why, I'm the idlest man in America. I tell 
 Henderson that he ought to take more time for 
 rest. It's no good to drive things. I like quiet." 
 
 "And you get it in Newport?" Margaret asked. 
 
 " Well, my wife and children get what they call 
 quiet. I guess a month of it would use me up. 
 She says if I had a place here I'd like it. Perhaps 
 so. Tou are very comfortably &s.ed, Miss EscheUe." 
 
 " It does very well for us, but something more 
 would be expected of Mr. Hollowell. We are just 
 camping-out here. What Newport needs is a real 
 palace, just to show those foreigners who come 
 here and patronize us. Why is it, Mr. Hollowell, 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 285 
 
 that all you millionaires can't think of anything 
 better to do with your money than to put up 
 a big hotel or a great elevator of a business 
 block?" 
 
 " I suppose," said Uncle Jerry, blandly, " that is 
 because they are interested in the prosperity of the 
 country, and have simple democratic tastes for 
 themselves. I'm afraid you are not democratic, 
 Miss Eschelle." 
 
 " Oh, I'm anxious about the public also. I'm on 
 your side, Mr. HoUowell ; but you don't go far 
 enough. You just throw in a college now and then 
 to keep us quiet, but you owe it to the country to 
 show the English that a democrat can have as fine 
 a house as anybody." 
 
 " I call that real patriotism. When I get rich, 
 Miss Eschelle, I'll bear it in mind." 
 
 " Oh, you never will be rich," said Carmen, sweet- 
 ly, bound to pursue her whim. " Tou might come 
 to me for a start to begin the house. I was very 
 lucky last spring in A. and B. bonds." 
 
 " How was that ? Are you interested in A. and 
 B. ?" asked Uncle Jerry, turning around with a live- 
 ly interest in this gentle little woman. 
 
 " Oh no ; we sold out. "We sold when we heard 
 what an interest there was in the road. Mamma 
 said it would never do for two capitahsts to have 
 their eggs in the same basket." 
 
 "What do you mean. Carmen?" asked Margaret, 
 
286 A Little Journey in ths World. 
 
 startled. " Why, that is the road Mr. Henderson 
 is in." 
 
 " Yes, I know, dear. There were too many in it." 
 
 "Isn't it safe?" said Margaret, turning to Hollo- 
 well. 
 
 " A great deal more solid than it was," he replied. 
 " It is part of a through line. I suppose Miss Es- 
 chelle found a better investment." 
 
 " One nearer home," she admitted, in the most 
 matter-of-fact way. 
 
 " Henderson must have given the girl points," 
 thought HoUowell. He began to feel at home with 
 her. If he had said the truth, it would have been 
 that she was more his kind than Mrs. Henderson, 
 but that he respected the latter more. " I think -we 
 might go in partnership, Miss Eschelle, to mutual 
 advantage — but not in building. Your ideas are 
 too large for me there." 
 
 " I should be a very unreliable partner, Mr. Hol- 
 lowell; but I could enlarge your ideas, if I had 
 time." 
 
 Hollowell laughed, and said he hadn't a doubt of 
 that. Margaret inquired for Mrs. HoUoweU and 
 the children, and she and Carmen appointed an 
 hour for calling at the Ocean House. The talk 
 went to other topics, and after a half-hour ended 
 in mutual good-feeling. 
 
 "What a delightful old party!" said Carmen, 
 after he had gone. " I've a mind to adopt him." 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 287 
 
 In a week Hollowell and Carmen were the best 
 of friends. She called him "Uncle Jerry," and 
 buzzed about him, to his great delight. "The 
 beauty of it is," he said, " you never can tell where 
 she will light." 
 
 Everybody knows what ISTewport is in August, 
 and we need not dwell on it. To Margaret, with 
 its languidly moving pleasures, its well-bred scenery, 
 the luxury that lulled the senses into oblivion of 
 the vulgar struggle and anxiety which ordinarily 
 attend life, it was little less than paradise. To float 
 along with Carmen, going deeper and deeper into 
 the shifting gayety which made the days fly with- 
 out thought and with no care for to-morrow, began 
 to seem an admirable way of passing life. What 
 could one do fitter, after all, for a world hopelessly 
 full of suffering and poverty and discontent, than 
 to set an example of cheerfulness and enjoyment, 
 and to contribute, as occasion offered, to the less 
 fortunate ? Would it help matters to be personally 
 anxious and miserable ? To put a large bill in the 
 plate on Sunday, to open her purse wide for the ob- 
 jects of charity and rehef daily presented, was in- 
 deed a privilege and a pleasure, and a satisfaction 
 to the conscience which occasionally tripped -her in 
 her rapid pace. 
 
 " I don't believe you have a bit of conscience," 
 said Margaret to Carmen one Sunday, as they 
 walked home from morning service, when Mar- 
 
288 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 garet had responded "extravagantly," as Carmen 
 said, to an appeal for the mission among the city 
 pagans. 
 
 " I never said I had, dear. It must be the most 
 troublesome thing you can carry around with you. 
 Of course I am interested in the heathen, but char- 
 ity — that is where I agree with Uncle Jerry — be- 
 gins at home, and I don't happen to know a great- 
 er heathen than I am." 
 
 " If you were as bad as you make yourself out, I 
 wouldn't walk with you another step." 
 
 " "Well, you ask mother. She was in such a rage 
 one day when I told Mr. Lyon that he'd better look 
 after Ireland than go pottering round among the 
 neglected children. Not that I care anything about 
 the Irish," added this candid person. 
 
 " I suppose you wanted to make it pleasant for 
 Mr. Lyon?" 
 
 " No ; for mother. She can't get over the idea 
 that she is still bringing me up. And Mr. Lyon ! 
 Goodness ! there was no living with him after his 
 visit to Brandon. Do you know, Margaret, that I 
 think you are just a little bit sly ?" 
 
 " I don't know what you mean," said Margaret, 
 looking offended. 
 
 "Dear, I don't blame you," said the impulsive 
 creature, wheeling short round and coming close 
 to Margaret. " I'd kiss you this minute if we were 
 not in the public road." 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 289 
 
 When Henderson came, Margaret's world was 
 full ; no desire was ungratified. He experienced a 
 little relief when she did not bother him about his 
 business nor inquire into his operations with Hollo- 
 well, and he fancied that she was getting to accept 
 the world as Carmen accepted it. There had been 
 moments since his -marriage when he feared that 
 Margaret's scruples would interfere with his career, 
 but never a moment when he had doubted that her 
 love for him would be superior to any solicitations 
 from others. Carmen, who knew him like a book, 
 would have said that the model wife for Henderson 
 would be a woman devoted to him and to his in- 
 terests, and not too scrupulous. A wife is a tor- 
 ment, if you can't feel at ease with her. 
 
 " If there were only a French fleet in the harbor, 
 dear," said Margaret one day, " I should feel that I 
 had quite taken up the life of my great-great-grand- 
 mother." 
 
 They were sailing in Hollowell's yacht, in which 
 Uncle Jerry had brought his family round from 
 New York. He hated the water, but Mrs. Hollo- 
 well and the children doted on the sea, he said. 
 
 " Wouldn't the torpedo station make up for it ?" 
 Henderson asked. 
 
 " Hardly. But it shows the change of a hundred 
 years. Only, isn't it odd, this personal dropping 
 back into an old situation ? I wonder what she was 
 like?" 
 19 
 
290 A Zittle Journey in the World. 
 
 " The accounts say she was the belle of Newport. 
 I suppose Newport has a belle once in a hundred 
 years. The time has come round. But I confess 
 I don't miss the French fleet," replied Henderson, 
 with a look of love that thrilled Margaret through 
 and through. 
 
 "But you would have beeil an officer on the 
 fleet, and I should have fallen in love with you. 
 Ah, well, it is better as it is." 
 
 And it was better. The days went by without a 
 cloud. Even after Henderson had gone the pros- 
 perity of life filled her heart more and more. 
 
 " She might have been like me," Carmen said to 
 herself, " if she had only started right ; but it is so 
 hard to get rid- of a New England conscience." 
 
 When Margaret stayed in her room, one morn- 
 ing, to write a long-postponed letter to her aunt, 
 she discovered that she had very little to write, at 
 least that she wanted to write, to her aunt. She 
 began, however, resolutely with a little account of 
 her life. But it seemed another thing on paper, 
 addressed to the loving eyes at Brandon. There 
 were too much luxury and idleness and triviality 
 in it, too much Carmen and Count Crispo and flir- 
 tation and dissipation in it. 
 
 She tore it up, and went to the window and 
 looked out upon the sea. She was indignant with 
 the Brandon people that they should care so little 
 about this charming life. She was indignant at 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 291 
 
 herself that she had torn up the letter. What had 
 she done that anybody should criticise her ? Why 
 shouldn't she live her life, and not be hampered 
 everlastingly by comparisons ? 
 
 She sat down again, and took up her pen. Was 
 she changing — was she changed? Why was it 
 that she had felt a little relief when her last Bran- 
 don visit was at an end, a certain freedom in Lenox 
 and a greater freedom in Newport ? The old as- 
 sociations became strong again in her mind, the 
 life in the Mttle neighborhood, the simphcity of it, 
 the high ideals of it, the daily love and tenderness. 
 Her aunt was no doubt wondering now that she 
 did not write, and perhaps grieving that Marga- 
 ret no more felt at home in Brandon. It was too 
 much. She loved them, she loved them all dearly. 
 She would write that, and speak only generally of 
 her frivolous, happy summer. And she began, but 
 somehow the letter seemed stiff and to lack the 
 old confiding tone. 
 
 But why should they disapprove of her ? She 
 thought of her husband. If circumstances had al- 
 tered, was she to blame? Could she always be 
 th inki ng of what they would think at Brandon? 
 It was an intolerable bondage. They had no right 
 to set themselves up over her. Suppose her 
 aunt didn't hke Carmen. She was not responsi- 
 ble for Carmen. What would they have her do ? 
 Be unhappy because Henderson was prosperous, 
 
292 A Little Journey in the World, v 
 
 and she could indulge her tastes and not have to 
 drudge in school ? Suppose she did look at some 
 things differently from what she used to. She 
 knew more of the world. Must you shut yourself 
 up because you found you couldn't trust every- 
 body ? What was Mr. Morgan always hitting at ? 
 Had he any better opinion of men and women 
 than her husband had ? "Was he any more charita- 
 ble than Uncle Jerry ? She smiled as she thought 
 of Uncle Jerry and his remark — " It's a very de- 
 cent world if you don't huff it." No ; she did like 
 this Mfe, and she was not going to pretend that 
 she didn't. It would be dreadful to lose the love 
 and esteem of her dear old friends, and she cried a 
 little as this possibility came over her. And then 
 she hardened her heart a Uttle at the thought that 
 she could not help it if they chose to misunder- 
 stand her and change. 
 
 Carmen was calling from the stairs that it was 
 time to dress for the drive. She dashed off a note. 
 It contained messages of love for everybody, but 
 it was the first one in her life written to her aunt 
 not from her heart. 
 
XVII. 
 
 Shall we never have done with this Carping at 
 people who succeed ? Are those who start and don't 
 arrive any better than those who do arrive ? Did 
 not men always make all the money they had an 
 opportunity to make ? Must we always have the 
 old slow-coach merchants and planters thrown up 
 to us ? Talk of George "Washington and the men 
 of his day ! "Were thtags any better because they 
 were on a small scale ? "Wasn't the thrifty George 
 "Washington always adding to his plantations, and 
 squeezing aU he could out of his land and his 
 slaves ? "What are the negro traditions about it ? 
 "Were they aU patriots in the Eevolutionary "War ? 
 "Were there no contractors who amassed fortunes 
 then ? And how was it in the late war ? The pub- 
 lic has a great spasm of virtue all of a sudden. 
 But we have got past the day of stage-coaches. 
 
 Something like this Henderson was flinging out 
 to Carmen as he paced back and forth in her par- 
 lor. It was very unlike him, this outburst, and 
 Carmen knew that he would indulge in it to no 
 one else, not even to Uncle Jerry. She was coiled 
 up in a comer of the sofa, her eyes sparkling with 
 
294 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 admiration of Ms indignation and force. I confess 
 that lie had been irritated by the comments of the 
 newspapers, and by the prodding of the lawyers in 
 the suit then on trial over the South-western con- 
 solidation. 
 
 " Why, there was old Mansfield saying in his ar- 
 gument that he had had some little experience in 
 life, but he never had known a man to get rich 
 rapidly, barring some piece of luck, except by 
 means that it would make him writhe to have 
 made public. I don't know but that Uncle Jerry 
 was right, that we made a mistake in not retaining 
 him for the corporation." 
 
 "Not if you win," said Carmen, softly. "The 
 public won't care for the remark unless you faU." 
 
 " And he tried to prejudice the Court by quoting 
 the remark attributed to Uncle Jerry, ' The public 
 
 be d d !' as if, said Mansfield, the public has 
 
 no rights as against the railroad wreckers. Uncle 
 Jerry laughed, and interrupted : ' That's nonsense, 
 reporters' nonsense. What I said was that if the 
 public thought I was fool enough to make it our 
 
 enemy, the public might be d d (begging your 
 
 honor's pardon).' Then everybody laughed. ' It's 
 the bondholders, who want big dividends, that 
 stand in the way of the development of the coun- 
 try, that's what it is,' said he, as he sat down, to 
 those around him, but loud enough to be heard all 
 over the room. Mansfield asked the protection of 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 295 
 
 the Court against these clap -trap interruptions. 
 The judge said it was altogether irregular, and 
 Uncle Jerry begged pardon. The reporters made 
 this incident the one prominent thing in the case 
 that day." 
 
 "What a delightful Uncle Jerry it is !" said Car- 
 men. " You'd better keep an eye on him, Kodney ; 
 he'll be giving your money to that theological sem- 
 inary in Alabama." 
 
 "That reminds me," Henderson said, cooling 
 down, "of a paragraph in The Plcmet, the other 
 day, about the amount of my gifts unknown to 
 the public. I showed it to Uncle Jerrj'-, and he 
 said, 'Yes, I mentioned it to the editor; such 
 things don't do any harm.' " 
 
 " I saw it, and wondered who started it," Carmen 
 repUed, wrinkling her brows as if she had been a 
 good deal perplexed about it. 
 
 " I thought," said Henderson, with a smile, "that 
 it ought to be explained to you." 
 
 "No," she said, reflectively; "you are liberal 
 enough, goodness knows — too liberal — ^but you are 
 not a flat." 
 
 Henderson was in the habit of dropping in at the 
 Eschelles' occasionally, when he wanted to talk free- 
 ly. He had no need to wear a mask with Carmen. 
 Her moral sense was tolerant and elastic, and fem- 
 inine sympathy of this sort is a grateful cushion. 
 She admired Henderson, without thinking any too 
 
296 A LitUe Journey in the World. 
 
 ■well of the world in general, and she admired him 
 for the qualities that were most conformable to his 
 inclination. It was no case of hero-worship, to be 
 sure, nor for tragedy ; but then what a satisfaction 
 it must be to sweet Lady Macbeth, coiled up on her 
 sofa, to feel that the thane of Cawdor has some 
 nerve ! 
 
 The^'Hendersons had come back to Washington 
 Square late in the autumn. It is a merciful pro- 
 vision that one has an orderly and weU-appointed 
 home to return to from the fatigues of the country. 
 Margaret, at any rate, was a little tired with the 
 multiform excitements of her summer, and experi- 
 enced a feehng of relief when she crossed her own 
 threshold and entered into the freedom and quiet 
 of her home. She was able to shut the door there 
 even against the solicitations of nature and against 
 the weariness of it also. How quiet it was in the 
 square in those late autumn days, and yet not Ufe- 
 less by any means ! Indeed, it seemed all the more 
 a haven because the roar of the great city environ- 
 ed it, and one could feel, without being disturbed by, 
 the active pulsation of human life. And then, if 
 one has sentiment, is there anywhere that it is more 
 ministered to than in the city at the close of the 
 year ? The trees in the httle park grow red and 
 yellow and brown, the leaves faU and swirl and 
 drift in windrows by the paths, the flower-beds 
 flame forth in the last dying splendor of their 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 297 
 
 color ; the children, chasing each other with hoop 
 and ball about the walks, are more subdued than 
 in the spring-time ; the old men, seeking now the 
 benches where the sunshine falls, sit in dreamy rem- 
 iniscence of the days that are gone ; the wandering 
 minstrel of Italy turns the crank of his wailing ma- 
 chine, ! hella, hella, as in the spring, but the notes 
 seem to come from far off and to be full of memory 
 rather than of promise ; and at early morning, or 
 when the shadows lengthen at evening, the south 
 wind that stirs the trees has a salt smeU, and sends a 
 premonitory shiver of change to the fading foliage. 
 But how bright are the squares and the streets, for 
 all this note of melancholy ! Life is to begin again. 
 But the social season opened languidly. It takes 
 some time to recover from the invigoration of the 
 summer gayety — to pick up again the threads and 
 weave them into that brilliant pattern, which scarce- 
 ly shows all its loveliness of combination and color 
 before the weavers begin to work in the subdued 
 tints of Lent. How delightful it is to see this knit- 
 ting and unravelhng of the social fabric year af- 
 ter year ! and how untiring are the senders of the 
 shuttles, the dyers, the hatchellers, the spinners, 
 the ever-busy makers and destroyers of the intri- 
 cate web we call society! After one campaign, 
 must there not be time given to organize for an- 
 other? Who has fallen out, who are the new re- 
 cruits, who are engaged, who wiU marry, who have 
 
298 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 separated, who has lost his money ? Before we can 
 safely reorganize we must not only examine the 
 hearts but the stock-list. No matter how many 
 brilliant alliances have been arranged, no matter 
 how many husbands and wives have drifted apart 
 in the local whirlpools of the summer's current, the 
 season will be duU if Wall Street is torpid and dis- 
 couraged. We cannot any of us, you see, live to our- 
 selves alone. Does not the preacher say that ? And 
 do we not all look about us in the pews, when he thus 
 moralizes, to see who has prospered ? The B's have 
 taken a back seat, the C's have moved up nearer the 
 pulpit. There is a reason for th ese things, my friends. 
 I am sorry to say that Margaret was usually 
 obliged to go alone to the little church where she 
 said her prayers ; for however restful her life might 
 have been while that season was getting under way, 
 Henderson was involved in the most serious strug- 
 gle of his life — a shameful kind of conspiracy, Mar- 
 garet told Carmen, against him. I have hinted at 
 his annoyance in the courts. Ever since September 
 he had been pestered with injunctions, threatened 
 with attachments. And now December had come 
 and Congress Avas in session ; in the very first days 
 an investigation had been ordered into the land 
 grants involved in the South-western operations. 
 Uncle Jerry was in Washington to explain matters 
 there, and Henderson, with the ablest counsel in 
 the city, was fighting in the courts. The affair 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 299 
 
 made a tremendous stir. Some of the bondholders 
 of the A. and B. happened to be men of prominence, 
 and able to make a noise about their injury. As 
 several millions were involved in this one branch of 
 the case — the suit of the bondholders — the newspa- 
 pers treated it with the consideration and dignity- 
 it deserved. It was a vast financial operation, some 
 said, scathingly, a " deal," but the magnitude of it 
 prevented it from falling into the reports of petty 
 swindling that appear in the police-court column. 
 It was a public affair, and not to be judged by one's 
 private standard. I know that there were remarks 
 made about Henderson that would have pained 
 Margaret if she had heard them, but I never heard 
 that he lost standing in the street. Still, in justice 
 to the street it must be said that it charitably waits 
 for things to be proven, and that if Henderson had 
 failed, he might have had little more lenient judg- 
 ment in the street than elsewhere. 
 
 In fact, those were very trying days for him — 
 days when he needed all the private sympathy 
 he could get, and to be shielded, in his great fight 
 with the conspiracy, from petty private annoyances. 
 It needed all his courage and good -temper and 
 bonhomie to carry him through. That he went 
 through was evidence not only of his adroitness 
 and ability, but it was proof also that he was a 
 good -fellow. If there were people who thought 
 otherwise, I never heard that they turned their 
 
300 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 backs on him, or failed in that civility which he 
 never laid aside in his intercourse with others. 
 
 If a man present a smiling front to the world 
 under extreme trial, is not that all that can be ex- 
 pected of him ? Shall he not be excused for show- 
 ing a little irritation at home when things go badly ? 
 Henderson was as good-humored a man as I ever 
 knew, and he loved Margaret, he was proud of her, 
 he trusted her. Since when did the truest love pre- 
 vent a man from being petulant, even to the extent 
 of wounding those he best loves, especially if the 
 loved one shows scruples when sympathy is need- 
 ed ? The reader knows that the present writer has 
 no great confidence in the principle of Carmen; 
 but if she had been married, and her husband had 
 wrecked an insurance company and appropriated 
 aU the surplus belonging to the policy-holders, I 
 don't believe she would have nagged him about it. 
 
 And yet Margaret loved Henderson with her 
 whole soul. And in this stage of her progress in 
 the world she showed that she did, though not in 
 the way Carmen would have showed her love, if 
 she had loved, and if she had a soul capable of love. 
 
 It may have been inferred from Henderson's ex- 
 hibition of temper that his case had gone against 
 him. It is true ; an injunction had been granted in 
 the lower court, and public opinion went with the 
 decree, and was in a great measure satisfied by it. 
 But this fight had really only just begun ; it would 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 301 
 
 go on in the higher courts, with new resources and 
 infinite devices, which the public would be unable 
 to fathom or follow, until by-and-by it would come 
 out that a compromise had been made, and the 
 easy public would not understand that this com- 
 promise gave the looters of the railway substan- 
 tially all they ever expected to get. 
 
 The morning after the granting of the injunction 
 Henderson had been silent and very much absorbed 
 at breakfast, hardly polite, Margaret thought, and 
 so inattentive to her remarks that she asked him 
 twice whether they should accept the Brandon in- 
 vitation to Christmas. 
 
 " Christmas ! I don't know. I've got other 
 things to think of than Christmas," he said, scarce- 
 ly looking at her, and rising abruptly and going 
 away to his library. 
 
 "When the postman brought Margaret's mail 
 there was a letter in it from her aunt, which she 
 opened leisurely after the other notes had been 
 glanced through, on the principle that a family 
 letter can wait, or from the fancy that some have 
 of keeping the letter likely to be most interest- 
 ing till the last. But almost the first line enchain- 
 ed her attention, and as she read, her heart beat 
 faster, and her face became scarlet. It was very 
 short, and I am able to print it, because all Mar- 
 garet's correspondence ultimately came into pos- 
 session of her aunt : 
 
302 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 " Brahdon, 2)«cem6cr \1th. 
 
 " Dearest Maegaeet, — You do not say whether 
 you will come for Christmas, but we infer from 
 your silence that you will. You know how pained 
 we shall all be if you do not. Yet I fear the day 
 will not be as pleasant as we could wish. In fact, 
 we are in a good deal of trouble. You know, dear, 
 that poor Mrs. Fletcher had nearly every dollar of 
 her little fortune invested in the A. and B. bonds, 
 and for ten months she has not had a cent of in- 
 come, and no prospect of any. Indeed, Morgan 
 says that she will be lucky if she ultimately saves 
 half her principal. "We try to cheer her up, but she 
 is so cast down and mortified to have to live, as she 
 says, on charity. And it does make rather close 
 house-keeping, though I'm sure I couldn't live alone 
 without her. It does not make so much difference 
 with Mr. Fairchild and Mr. Morgan, for they have 
 plenty of other resources. Mr. Fairchild tells her 
 that she is in very good company, for lots" of the 
 bonds are held in Brandon, and she is not the only 
 widow who suffers ; but this is poor consolation. 
 "We had great hopes, the other day, of the trial, but 
 Morgan says it may be years before any final set- 
 tlement. I don't believe Mr. Henderson knows. But 
 there, dearest, I won't find fault. "We are aU weU, 
 and eager to see you. Do come. 
 
 " Your affectionate aunt, 
 
 " Geoegiana." 
 
A lAtUe Journey in the World. 303 
 
 Margaret's hand that held the letter trembled, 
 and the eyes that read these words were hot with 
 indignation ; but she controlled herself into an ap- 
 pearance of calmness as she marched away with it 
 straight to the Ubrary. 
 
 As she entered, Henderson was seated at his desk, 
 with bowed head and perplexed brows, sorting a pile 
 of papers before him, and making notes. He did not 
 look up until she came close to him and stood at the 
 end of his desk. Then, turning his eyes for a mo- 
 ment, and putting out his left hand to her, he said, 
 "WeU, what is it, dear ?" 
 
 " Will you read that ?" said Margaret, in a voice 
 that sounded strange in her own ears. 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " A letter from Aunt Forsythe." 
 
 " Family matter. Can't it wait ?" said Hender- 
 son,, going on with his figuring. 
 
 "If it can, I cannot," Margaret answered, in a 
 tone that caused him to turn abruptly and look at 
 her. He was so impatient and occupied that even 
 yet he did not comprehend the new expression in 
 her face. 
 
 " Don't you see I am busy, child ? I have an en- 
 gagement in twenty minutes in my office." 
 
 " You can read it in a moment," said Margaret, 
 still calm. 
 
 Henderson took the letter with a gesture of ex- 
 treme annoyance, ran his eye through it, flung it 
 
304 A Ijittle Jov/rney in the World. 
 
 from him on the table, and turned squarely round 
 in his chair. 
 
 "WeU,whatof it?" 
 
 " To ruin poor Mrs. Fletcher and a hundred hke 
 her !" cried Margaret, with rising indignation. 
 
 " "What have I to do with it % Did I make their 
 investments ? Do you think I have time to attend 
 to every poor duck ? Why don't people look where 
 they put their money ?" 
 
 " It's a shame, a burning shame !" she cried, re- 
 garding him steadily. 
 
 " Oh yes ; no doubt. I lost a hundred thousand 
 yesterday ; did I whine about it ? If I want to buy 
 anything in the market, have I got to look into 
 every tuppenny interest concerned in it ? If Mrs. 
 Fletcher or anybody else has any complaint against 
 me, the courts are open. I defy the whole pack !" 
 Henderson thundered out, rising and buttoning his 
 coat — " the whole pack !" 
 
 "And you have nothing else to say, Eodney?" 
 Margaret ;^ersisted, not quailing in the least before 
 his indignation. He had never seen her so before, 
 and he was now too much in a passion to fully 
 heed her. 
 
 " Oh, women, women !" he said, taking up his 
 hat, " you have sympathy enough for anybody but 
 your husbands." He pushed past her, and was gone 
 without another word or look. 
 
 Margaret turned to follow him. She would have 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 305 
 
 cried " Stop !" but the word stuck in her throat. 
 She was half beside herself with rage for a mo- 
 ment. But he had gone. She heard the outer 
 door close. Shame and grief overcame her. She 
 sat down in the chair he had just occupied. It 
 was infamous the way Mrs. Fletcher was treated. 
 And her husband — her husband was so regardless 
 of it. If he was not to blame for it, why didn't 
 he tell her — why didn't he explain ? And he had 
 gone away without looking at her. He had left 
 her for the first time since they were married with- 
 out kissing her ! She put her head down on the 
 desk and sobbed ; it seemed as if her heart would 
 break. Perhaps he was angry, and wouldn't come 
 back, not for ever so long. 
 
 How cruel to say that she did not sympathize 
 with her husband ! How could he be angry with 
 her for her natural anxiety about her old friend ? 
 He was unjust. There must be something wrong 
 in these schemes, these great operations that made 
 so many confiding people suffer. Was everybody 
 grasping and selfish? She got up and walked 
 about the dear room, which recalled to her only 
 the sweetest memories ; she wandered aimlessly 
 about the lower part of the house. She was 
 wretchedly unhappy. Was her husband capable 
 of such conduct ? Would he cease to love her for 
 what she had done — for what she must do ? How 
 lovely this home was ! Everything spoke of his 
 20 
 
306 A Little Jov/rney in the World. 
 
 care, his tenderness, his quickness to anticipate her 
 slightest wish or whim. It had been all created 
 for her. She looked listlessly at the pictures, the 
 painted ceiling, where the loves garlanded with 
 flowers chased each other ; she lifted and let drop 
 wearily the rich hangings. He had said that it 
 was all hers. How pretty was this vista through 
 the luxurious rooms down to the green and sunny 
 conservatory ! And she shrank instinctively from 
 it all. "Was it hers ? No ; it was his. And was 
 she only a part of it ? Was she his ? How cold 
 his look as he went away ! 
 
 What is this love, this divine passion, of which 
 we hear so much ? Is it, then, such a discerner of 
 right and wrong ? Is it better than anything else ? 
 Does it take the place of duty, of conscience % And 
 yet what an unbearable desert, what a den of wild 
 beasts it would be, this world, without love, the 
 passionate, aU - surrendering love of the man and 
 the woman ! 
 
 In the chambers, in her own apartments, into 
 which she dragged her steps, it was worse than 
 below. Everything here was personal. Mrs. Fair- 
 child had said that it was too rich, too luxurious ; 
 but her husband would have it so. Nothing was 
 too costly, too good, for the woman he loved. 
 How happy she had been in this boudoir, this 
 room, her very own, with her books, the souvenirs 
 of all her happy life ! It seemed alien now, exter- 
 
A Little Jov/rney in the World. 307 
 
 nal, unsympathetic. Here, least of all places, could 
 she escape from herself, from her hateful thoughts. 
 It was a chilly day, and a bright fire crackled 
 on the hearth. The square was almost deserted, 
 though the sun illuminated it, and showed all the 
 delicate tracery of the branches and twigs. It was 
 a December sun. Her easy-chair was drawn to the 
 fire and her book-stand by it, with the novel turned 
 down that she had been reading the night before. 
 She sat down and took up the book. She had lost 
 her interest in the characters. Fiction ! "What 
 stuff it was compared to the reaUty of her own 
 life ! K'o, it was impossible. She must do some- 
 thing. She went to her dressing-room and se- 
 lected a street dress. She took pleasure in putting 
 on the plainest costume she could find, rejecting 
 every ornament, everything but the necessary and 
 the simple. She wanted to get back to herself. 
 Her maid appeared in response to the beU. 
 
 " I am going out, Marie." 
 
 " Win madame have the carriage ?" 
 
 " ISTo, I will walk ; I need exercise. Tell Jack- 
 son not to serve lunch." Yes, she would walk ; for 
 it was his carriage, after aU. 
 
 It was after mid-day. In the keen air and the 
 bright sunshine the streets were brUliant. Marga- 
 ret walked on up the avenue. How gay was the 
 city, what a zest of life in the animated scene! 
 The throng increased as she approached Twenty- 
 
308 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 third Street. In the place where three or four cur- 
 rents meet there was the usual jam of carriages, 
 furniture wagons, carts, cars, and hurried, timid, 
 half-bewildered passengers trying to make their 
 way through it. It was all such a whirl and con- 
 fusion. A policeman aided Margaret to gain the 
 side of the square. Children were playing there ; 
 white-capped maids were pushing about baby-car- 
 riages ; the sparrows chattered and fought with as 
 much vivacity as if they were natives of the city 
 instead of foreigners in possession. It seemed all 
 so empty and unreal. What was she, one woman 
 with an aching heart, in the midst of it aU ? What 
 had she done ? How could she have acted other- 
 wise? Was he still angry with her? The city 
 was so vast and cruel. On the avenue again there 
 was the same unceasing roar of carts and car- 
 riages ; business, pleasure, fashion, idleness, the 
 stream always went by. From one and another 
 carriage Margaret received a bow, a cool nod, or 
 a smile of greeting. Perhaps the occupants won- 
 dered to see her on foot and alone. What did it 
 matter ? How heartless it aU was ! what an empty 
 pageant ! If he was alienated, there was nothing. 
 And yet she was right. For a moment she thought 
 of the Arbusers. She thought of Carmen. She 
 must see somebody. ISTo, she couldn't talk. She 
 couldn't trust herself. She must bear it alone. 
 And how weary it was, walking, walking, with 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 309 
 
 such a burden! House after house, street after 
 street, closed doors, repellent fronts, staring at her. 
 Suppose she were poor and hungry, a woman wan- 
 dering forlorn, how stony and pitiless these insolent 
 mansions ! And was she not burdened and friend- 
 less and forlorn ! Tired, she reached at last, and 
 with no purpose, the great white cathedral. The 
 door was open. In all this street of churches and 
 palaces there was no other door open. Perhaps 
 here for a moment she could find shelter from the 
 world, a quiet corner where she could rest and 
 think and pray. 
 
 She entered. It was almost empty, but down 
 the vista of the great columns hospitable lights 
 gleamed, and he're and there a man or a woman — 
 more women than men — was kneeling in the great 
 aisle, before a picture, at the side of a confessional, 
 at the steps of the altar. How hushed and calm 
 and sweet it was ! She crept into a pew in a side 
 aisle in the shelter of a pillar, and sat down. Pres- 
 ently, in the far apse, an organ began to play, its 
 notes stealing softly out through the great spaces 
 like a benediction. She fancied that the saints, the 
 glorified martyrs in the painted windows illumined 
 by the sunlight, could feel, could hear, were touched 
 by human sympathy in their beatitude. There was 
 peace here at any rate, and perhaps strength. "What 
 a dizzy whirl it all was in which she had been 
 borne along ! The tones of the organ rose fuller 
 
310 A lAtUe Journey in the World. 
 
 and fuller, and now at the side entrances came 
 pouring in children, the boys on one side, the girls 
 on another — school children with their books and 
 satchels, the poor children of the parish, long Unes 
 of girls and of boys, marshalled by priests and nuns, 
 streaming in— =-in frolicsome mood, and filling all 
 the pews of the nave at. the front. They had their 
 books out, their singing-books ; at a signal they all 
 stood up; a young priest with his baton stepped 
 into the centre aisle ; he waved his stick, Margaret 
 heard his sweet tenor voice, and 'then the whole 
 chorus of children's voices rising and fiUing all the 
 house with the innocent concord, but always above 
 aU the penetrating, soaring notes of the priest — 
 strong, clear, persuading. "Was it not almost an- 
 gelic there at the moment? And how inspired the 
 beautiful face of the singer leading the children ! 
 
 Ah, me ! it is not all of the world worldly, then. 
 I don't know that the singing was very good : it 
 was not classical, I fear ; not a voice, maybe, that 
 priest's, not a chorus, probably, that, for the Metro- 
 politan. I hear the organ is played better else- 
 where. Song after song, chorus after chorus, re- 
 peated, stopped, begun again : it was only drilling 
 the little urchins of the parochial schools — ^little 
 ragamuffins, I dare say, many of them. "What was 
 there in this to touch a woman of fashion, sitting 
 there crying in her corner ? Was it because they 
 were children's voices, and innocent ? Margaret 
 
A. Little Journey in the World. 311 
 
 did not care to check her tears. She was thinking 
 of her old home, of her own childhood, nay, of her 
 girlhood — it was not so long ago — of her ideals 
 then, of her notion of the world and what it would 
 bring her, of the dear, affectionate life, the simple 
 life, the school, the little church, her room in the 
 cottage — the chamber where first the realization 
 of love came to her with the odors of May. Was 
 it gone, that life ? — gone or going out of her heart ? 
 And — great heavens! — if her husband should be 
 cold to her ! Was she very worldly ? Would he 
 love her if she were as unworldly as she once was ? 
 Why should this childish singing raise these con- 
 trasts, and put her at odds so with her own life ? 
 For a moment I doubt not this dear girl saw her- 
 self as we were beginning to see her. Who says 
 that the rich and the prosperous and the successful 
 do not need pity ? 
 
 Was this a comforting hour, do you think, for 
 Margaret in the cathedral? Did she get any 
 strength, I wonder? When the singing was over 
 and the organ ceased, and the children had filed 
 out, she stole away also, wearily and humbly 
 enough, and took the stage down the avenue. It 
 was near the dinner -hour, and Henderson, if he 
 came, would be at home any moment. It seemed 
 as if she could not wait — only to see him ! 
 
XVIII. - 
 
 Do you suppose that Henderson had never spoken 
 impatiently and sharply to his wife before, that 
 Margaret had never resented it and replied with 
 spirit, and been hurt and grieved, and that there 
 had never been reconciliations? In writing any 
 biography there are some things that are taken for 
 granted with an intelligent public. Are men al- 
 ways gentle and considerate, and women always 
 even-tempered and consistent, simply by virtue of 
 a few words said to the priest ? 
 
 But this was a more serious affair. Margaret 
 waited in a tumult of emotion. She felt that she 
 would die if she did not see him soon, and she 
 dreaded his coming. A horrible suspicion had en- 
 tered her mind that respect for her husband, confi- 
 dence in him, might be lowered, and a more horrible 
 doubt that she might lose his love. That she could 
 not bear. 
 
 And was Henderson unconscious of all this ? I 
 dare say that in the perplexing excitement of the 
 day he did recall for a moment with a keen thrust 
 of regret the scene of the morning — his wife stand- 
 ing there flushed, wounded, indignant. " I might 
 
A IdtUe Journey in the World. 313 
 
 have turned back, and taken her in my arms, and 
 told her it was all right," he thought. He wished 
 he had done so. But what nonsense it was to think 
 that she could be seriously troubled ! Besides, he 
 couldn't have women interfering with him every 
 moment. How inconsiderate men are ! They drop 
 a word or a phrase — they do not know how cru- 
 el it is — or give a look — they do not know how 
 cold it is — and are gone without a second thought 
 about it ; but it sinks into the woman's heart and 
 rankles there. For the instant it is like a mortal 
 blow, it hurts so, and in the brooding spirit it is 
 exaggerated into a hopeless disaster. The wound 
 will heal with a kind word, with kisses. Yes, but 
 never, never without a little scar. But woe to the 
 woman's love when she becomes insensible to these 
 httle stabs ! 
 
 Henderson hurried home, then, more eagerly 
 than usual, with reparation in his heart, but still 
 with no conception of the seriousness of the breach. 
 Margaret heard the key in the door, heard his hasty 
 step in the hall, heard him call, as he always did 
 on entering, " Margaret ! where is Margaret ?" and 
 she, sitting there in the deep window looking on 
 the square, longed to run to him, as usual also, and 
 be lifted up in his strong arms ; but she could not 
 stir. Only when he found her did she rise up 
 with a wistful look and a faint smile. " Have you 
 had a good day, child ?" And he kissed her. But 
 
314 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 her kiss was on her lips only, for her heart was 
 heavy. 
 
 " Dinner will be served as soon as you dress," 
 she said. "What a greeting was this ! Who says 
 that a woman cannot be as cruel as a man ? 
 
 The dinner was not very cheerful, though Mar- 
 garet did her best not to appear constrained, and 
 Henderson rattled on about the events of the day. 
 It had been a deuce of a day, but it was coming 
 right ; he felt sure that the upper court would dis- 
 solve the injunction ; the best counsel said so ; and 
 the criminal proceedings — " Had there been crim- 
 inal proceedings ?" asked Margaret, with a stricture 
 at her heart — had broken down completely, hadn't 
 a leg to stand on, never had, were only begun 
 to bluff the company. It was a purely malicious 
 prosecution. And Henderson did not think it nec- 
 essary to tell Margaret that only Uncle Jerry's dex- 
 terity had spared both of them the experience of a 
 night in the Ludlow Street jail. 
 
 " Come," said Henderson — " come into the libra- 
 ry. I have something to tell you." He put his 
 arm round her as they walked, and seating himself 
 in his chair by his desk in front of the fire, he tried 
 to draw Margaret to sit on his knee. 
 
 "liTo; I'll sit here, so that I can see you," she 
 said, composed and unyielding. 
 
 He took out his pocket-book, selected a slip of 
 paper, and laid it on the table before him. " There, 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 315 
 
 that is a check for seven hundred dollars. I looked 
 in the books. That is the interest for a year on the 
 Fletcher bonds. Might as well make it an even 
 year ; it will be that soon." 
 
 " Do you mean to say — " asked Margaret, leaning 
 forward. 
 
 " Yes ; to brighten up the Christmas up there a 
 little." 
 
 " — ^that you are going to send that to Mrs. 
 Fletcher ?" Margaret had risen. 
 
 " Oh no ; that wouldn't do. I cannot send it, nor 
 know anything about it. It would raise the — ^well, 
 it would — if the other bondholders knew anything 
 about it. But you can change that for your check, 
 and nobody the wiser." 
 
 " Oh, Eodney !" She was on his knee now. He 
 was good, after all. Her head was on his shoulder, 
 and she was crying a httle. " I've been so unhap- 
 py, so unhappy, all day ! And I can send that ?" 
 She sprang up. " I'll do it this minute — I'U run 
 and get my check-book !" But before she reached 
 the door she turned back, and came and stood by 
 him and kissed him again and again, and tumbled 
 up his hair, and looked at him. There is, after aU, 
 nothing in the world like a woman. 
 
 " Time enough in the morning," said Henderson, 
 detaining her. " I want to tell you all about it." 
 
 What he told her was, in fact, the case as it had 
 been presented by his lawyers, and it seemed a very 
 
316 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 large, a constitutional, kind of case. " Of course," 
 lie said, "in the rivalry and competition of busi- 
 ness somebody must go to the wall, and in a great 
 scheme of development and reorganization of the 
 transportation of a region as big as an empire some 
 individual interests will suffer. You can't help 
 these changes. I'm sorry for some of them — very 
 sorry ; but nothing would ever be done if we wait- 
 ed to consider every little interest. And that the 
 men who create these great works, and organize 
 these schemes for the benefit of the whole public, 
 shouldn't make anything by their superior enter- 
 prise and courage is all nonsense. The world is not 
 made that way." 
 
 The explanation, I am bound to say, was one 
 that half the Avorld considers valid; it was one 
 that squeezed through the courts. And when it 
 was done, and the whole thing had- blown over, 
 who cared? There were some bondholders who 
 said that it was rascally, that they had been boldly 
 swindled. In the clubs, long after, you would hear 
 it saidvthat Hollo well and Henderson were awfully 
 sharp, and hard to beat. It is a very bad business, 
 said the Brandon parliament, and it just shows thai 
 the whole country is losing its moral sense, its ca- 
 pacity to judge what is right and what is wrong. 
 
 I do not say that this explanation, the nature of 
 which I have only indicated, would have satisfied 
 the clear mind of Margaret a year or two before. 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 317 
 
 But it was made by the man she loved, the mau 
 who had brought her out into a world that was full 
 of sunlight and prosperity and satisfied desire ; and 
 more and more, day by day, she saw the world 
 through his eyes, and accepted his estimate of the 
 motives of people — and a low estimate I fear it was. 
 Who would not be rich if he could ? Do you mean 
 to tell me that a man who is getting fat dividends ' 
 out of a stock does not regard more leniently the 
 manner in which that stock is manipulated than 
 one who does not own any of it ? I dare say, if 
 Carmen had heard that explanation, and seen Mar- 
 garet's tearful, happy acceptance of it, she would 
 have shaken her pretty head and said, " They are 
 getting too worldly for me." 
 
 In the morning the letter was despatched to Miss 
 Forsythe, enclosing the check for Mrs. Fletcher — a 
 joyful note, fuU of affection. "We cannot come," 
 Margaret wrote. " My husband cannot leave, and 
 he does not want to spare me " — the little hypo- 
 crite ! he had told her that she could easily go for 
 a day — "but we shall think of you dear ones all 
 day, and I do hope that now there will not be the 
 least cloud on your Christmas." 
 
 It seems a great pity, in view of the scientific or- 
 ganization of society, that there are so many sensi- 
 bilities unclassified and unprovided for in the oth- 
 erwise perfect machinery. Why should the beggar 
 to whom you toss a silver dollar from your carriage 
 
318 A LitUe Jmimey in the World. 
 
 feel a little grudge against you? Perhaps he 
 wouldn't like to earn the dollar, but if it had been 
 accompanied by a word of sympathy, his sensibili- 
 ty might have been soothed by your recognition 
 of human partnership in the goods of this world. 
 People not paupers are all eager to take what is 
 theirs of right ; but anything in the semblance of 
 charity is a bitter piU to swallow until self-respect 
 is a little broken down. Probably the resentment 
 lies in the recognition of the truth that it is much 
 easier to be charitable than to be just. If Marga- 
 ret had seen the effect produced by her letter she 
 might have thought of this ; she might have gone 
 further, and reflected upon what would have been 
 her own state of mind two years earlier if she had 
 received such a letter. Miss Forsythe read it with 
 a very heavy heart. She hesitated about showing 
 it to Mrs. Fletcher, and when she did, and gave her 
 the check, it was with a sense of shame. 
 
 " The insolence of the thing !" cried Mrs. Fletch- 
 er, as soon as she comprehended it. 
 
 " Not insolence," pleaded Miss Forsythe, softly ; 
 " it is out of the kindness of her heart. She would 
 be dreadfully wounded to know that you took it 
 so." 
 
 "Well," said Mrs. Fletcher, hotly, "I like that 
 kind of sensibility. Does she think I have no feel- 
 ing ? Does she think I would take from her as a 
 charity what her husband knows is mine by right ?" 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 319 
 
 " Perhaps her husband — " 
 
 " No," Mrs. Fletcher interrupted. " "Why didn't 
 he send it, then ? why didn't the company send it ? 
 They owe it. I'm not a pauper. And all the other 
 bondholders who need the money as much as I do ! 
 I'm not saying that if the company sent it I should 
 refuse it because the others had been treated un- 
 justly ; but to take it as a favor, like a beggar !" 
 
 " Of course you cannot take it from Margaret," 
 said Miss Forsythe, sadly. " How dreadful it is !" 
 
 Mrs. Fletcher would have shared her last crust 
 with Miss Forsythe, and if her own fortune were 
 absolutely lost, she would not hesitate to accept 
 the shelter of her present home, using her energies 
 to add to their limited income, serving and being 
 served in all love and trust. But this is different 
 from taking a bounty from the rich. 
 
 The check had to go back. Even my wife, who 
 saw no insolence in Margaret's attempt, applauded 
 Mrs. Fletcher's spirit. She told Miss Forsythe that 
 if things did not mend they might get a few little 
 pupils for Mrs. Fletcher from the neighborhood, 
 and Miss Forsythe knew that she was thinking 
 that her own boy might have been one of them 
 if he had lived. Mr. Morgan was a little satiri- 
 cal, as usual. He thought it would be a pity to 
 check Margaret's growing notion that there was no 
 wrong that money could not heal — a remark that 
 my wife thought unjust to the girl. Mrs. Fletcher 
 
320 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 was for re-enclosing the check without a word of 
 comment, but that Miss Forsythe would not do. 
 
 " My dearest Margaret," she wrote, " I know the 
 kindness of heart that moved you to do this, and I 
 love you more than ever, and am crying as I think 
 of it. But you must see yourself, when you reflect, 
 that Mrs. Fletcher could not take this from you. 
 Her self-respect would not permit it. Somebody 
 has done a great wrong, and only those who have 
 done it can undo it. I don't know much about such 
 things, my dear, and I don't believe all that the 
 newspapers have been saying, but there would be 
 no need for charity if there had not been dishon- 
 esty somewhere. I cannot help thinking that. "We 
 do not blame you. And you must not take it to 
 heart that I am compelled to send this back. I 
 understand why you sent it, and you must try to 
 understand why it cannot be kept." 
 
 There was more of this sort in the letter. It was 
 full of a kind of sorrowful yearning, as if there was 
 fear that Margaret's love were slipping away and 
 aU the old relations were being broken up, but yet 
 it had in it a certain moral condemnation that the 
 New England spinster could not conceal. Softened 
 as it was by affectionate words, and aU the loving 
 messages of the season, it was like a slap in the 
 face to Margaret. She read it in the first place 
 with intense mortification, and then with indigna- 
 tion. This was the way her loving spirit was flung 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 321 
 
 back upon her ! They did not blame her ! They 
 blamed her husband, then. They condemned him. 
 It was his generosity that was spurned. 
 
 Is there a particular moment when we choose 
 our path in life, when we take the right or the left ? 
 At this instant, when Margaret arose with the 
 crumpled letter in her hand, and marched towards 
 her husband's library, did she choose, or had she 
 been choosing for the two years past, and was this 
 only a publication of her election ? Why had she 
 secretly been a httle relieved from restraint when 
 her Brandon visit ended in the spring ? They were 
 against her husband; they disapproved of him, 
 that was clear. Was it not a wife's duty to stand 
 by her husband ? She was indignant with the Bran- 
 don scrupulousness ; it chafed her. Was this sim- 
 ply because she loved her husband, or was this in- 
 dignation a little due also to her liking for the 
 world which so fell in with her inclinations ? The 
 motives in life are so mixed that it seems impos- 
 sible wholly to condemn or wholly to approve. If 
 Margaret's destiny had been united with such a 
 man as John Lyon, what would have been her dis- 
 cernment in such a case as this ? It is such a pity 
 that for most people there is only one chance in life. 
 
 She laid the letter and the check upon her hus- 
 band's desk. He read it with a slight frown, which 
 changed to a smile of amusement as he looked up 
 and saw Margaret's excitement.. 
 21 
 
322 A LitUe Journey in the World. 
 
 "Well, it was a miss-go. Those folks up there 
 are too good for this world. You'd better send it 
 to the hospital." 
 
 " But you see that they say they do not blame 
 me" Margaret said, with warmth. 
 
 " Oh, I can stand it. People usually don't try to 
 hurt my feelings that way. Don't mind it, child. 
 They will come to their senses, and see what non- 
 sense it all is." 
 
 Yes, it was nonsense. And how generous and 
 kind at heart her husband was ! In his skilful mak- 
 ing little of it she was very much comforted, and at 
 the same time drawn into more perfect sympathy 
 with him. She was glad she was not going to 
 Brandon for Christmas ; she would not submit her- 
 self to its censorship. The note of acknowledg- 
 ment she wrote to her aunt was short and almost 
 formal. She was very sorry they looked at the 
 matter in that way. She thought she was doing 
 right, and they might blame her or not, but her 
 aunt would see that she could not permit any dis- 
 tinction to be set up between her and her hus- 
 band, etc. 
 
 "Was this little note a severance of her present 
 from her old life ? I do not suppose she regarded 
 it so. If she had fully realized that it was a step 
 in that direction, would she have penned it with so 
 little regret as she felt ? Or did she think that cir^ 
 cumstances and not her own choice were responsi- 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 323 
 
 ble for her state of feeling ? She was mortified, as 
 has been said, but she wrote with more indignation 
 than pain. 
 
 A year ago Carmen would have been the last 
 person to whom Margaret would have spoken about 
 a family affair of this kind. Nor would she have 
 done so now, notwithstanding the intimacy estab- 
 lished at Newport, if Carmen had not happened in 
 that day, when Margaret was still hurt and excited, 
 and skilfully and most sympathetically extracted 
 from her the cause of the mood she found her in. 
 But even with all these allowances, that Margaret 
 should confide such a matter to Carmen was the 
 most startling sign of the change that had taken 
 place in her. 
 
 ""Well," said this wise person, after she had 
 wormed out the whole story, and expressed her 
 profound sympathy, and then fallen into an atti- 
 tude of deep reflection — " well, I wish I could cast 
 my bread upon the waters in that way. "What are 
 you going to do with the money?" 
 
 " I've sent it to the hospital." 
 
 ""What extravagance! And did you tell your 
 aunt that ?" 
 
 " Of course not." 
 
 ""Why not? I couldn't have resisted such a 
 righteous chance of making her feel bad." 
 
 " But I don't want to make her feel bad." 
 
 " Just a little ? You wiU never convince people 
 
324 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 that you are unworldly this way. Even Uncle 
 Jerry wouldn't do that." 
 
 "You and Uncle Jerry are very much alike," 
 cried Margaret, laughing in spite of herself — " both 
 of you as bad as you can be." 
 
 " But, dear, we don't pretend, do we?" asked Car- 
 men, innocently. 
 
 To some of us at Brandon, Margaret's letter was 
 scarcely a surprise, though it emphasized a diver- 
 gence we had been conscious of. But with Miss 
 Forsythe it was far otherwise. The coolness of 
 Margaret's tone filled her with alarm ; it was the 
 premonition of a future which she did not dare to 
 face. There was a passage in the letter which she 
 did not show ; not that it was unfeeling, she told 
 my wife afterwards, but that it exhibited a world- 
 ly-mindedness that she could not have conceived of 
 in Margaret. She could bear separation from the 
 girl on whom she had bestowed her tenderest afPec- 
 tion, that she had schooled herself to expect upon 
 her marriage — that, indeed, was only a part of her 
 life of willing self-sacrifice — their paths must lie 
 apart, and she could hope to see little of her. But 
 what she could not bear was the separation in 
 spirit, the wrenching apart of sympathy, the loss 
 of her heart, and the thought of her going farther 
 and farther away into that world whose cynical 
 and materialistic view of life made her shudder. 
 I think there are few tragedies in life comparable 
 
A lAttU Jowrney in the World. 325 
 
 to this to a sensitive, trusting soul — not death itself, 
 with its gracious heaUng and oblivion and pathos. 
 Family quarrels have something sustaining in them, 
 something of a sense of wrong and even indigna- 
 tion to keep up the spirits. There was no family 
 quarrel here, no indignation, just simple, helpless 
 grief and sense of loss. In one sense it seemed to 
 the gentle spinster that her own life was ended, 
 she had lived so in this girl — ever since she came 
 to her a child, in long curls and short frocks, the 
 sweetest, most trustful, mischievous, affectionate 
 thing. These two then never had had any secrets, 
 never any pleasure, never any griefs they did not 
 share. She had seen the child's mind unfold, the 
 girl's grace and intelligence, the woman's charac- 
 ter. Oh, Margaret, she cried, to herself, if you only 
 knew what you are to me ! 
 
 Margaret's little chamber in the cottage was 
 always kept ready for her, much in the condition 
 she had left it. She might come back at any time, 
 and be a girl' again. Here were many of the things 
 which she had cherished ; indeed everything in the 
 room spoke of the simple days of her maidenhood. 
 It was here that Miss Forsythe sat in her loneli- 
 ness the morning after she received the letter, by 
 the window with the muslin curtain, looking out 
 through the shrubbery to the blue hills. She must 
 be here ; she could stay nowhere else in the house, 
 for here the little Margaret came back to her. Ah, 
 
326 A Little Jov/mey in the World. 
 
 and -when she turned, would slie hear the quick 
 steps and see the smiling face, and would she put 
 back the tangled hair and lift her up and kiss her ? 
 There in that closet still hung articles of her cloth- 
 ing — dresses that had been laid aside when she be- 
 came a woman — kept with the sacred sentiment of 
 'Sew England thrift. How each one, as Miss For- 
 sythe took them down, recalled the girl ! In the 
 inner closet was a pile of paper boxes. I do not 
 know what impulse it was that led the heavy- 
 hearted woman to take them down one by one, 
 and indulge her grief in the memories enshrined 
 in them. In one was a little bonnet, a spring bon- 
 net ; Margaret had worn it on the Easter Sunday 
 when she took her first communion. The little 
 thing was out of fashion now ; the ribbons were 
 all faded, but the spray of moss rose-buds on the 
 side was almost as fresh as ever. How well she 
 remembered it, and the girl's dehght in the nod- 
 ding roses ! 
 
 When Mrs. Fletcher had called again and again, 
 with no response, and finally opened the door and 
 peeped in, there the spinster sat by the window, 
 the pitiful little bonnet in her hand, and the tears 
 roUing down her cheeks. God help her ! 
 
XIX. 
 
 The medical faculty are of the opinion that a 
 sprain is often worse than a broken limb ; a purely 
 scientific view of the matter, in which the patient 
 usually does not coincide. Well-bred people shrink 
 from the vulgarity of violence, and avoid the pub- 
 licity of any open rupture in domestic and social 
 relations. And yet, perhaps, a lively quarrel would 
 be less lamentable than the withering away of 
 friendship while appearances are kept up. Noth- 
 ing, indeed, is more pitiable than the gradual drift- 
 ing apart of people who have been dear to each 
 other — a severance produced by change of views 
 and of principle, and the substitution of indiffer- 
 ence for sympathy. This disintegration is certain 
 to take the spring and taste out of life, and com- 
 monly to habituate one to a lower view of human 
 nature. 
 
 There was no rupture between the Hendersons 
 and the Brandon circle, but there was little inter- 
 course of the kind that had existed before. There 
 was with us a profound sense of loss and sorrow, 
 due partly to the growing knowledge, not pleasing 
 to our vanity, that Margaret could get on very well 
 
328 A LitUe Jov/rney in the Wwld. 
 
 without us, that we were not necessary to her life. 
 Miss Forsythe recovered promptly her cheerful 
 serenity, but not the elasticity of hope ; she was 
 irretrievably hurt ; it was as if life was now to be 
 endured. That Margaret herself was apparently 
 unconscious of this, and that it did not affect much 
 her own enjoyment, made it the harder to bear. 
 The absolute truth probably was that she regretted 
 it, and had moments of sentimental unhappiness ; 
 but there is great compensation for such loss in the 
 feeling of freedom to pursue a career that is more 
 and more agreeable. And I had to confess, when 
 occasionally I saw Margaret during that winter, 
 that she did not need us. Why should she ? Did 
 not the city offer her everything that she desired ? 
 And where in the world are beauty, and gayety 
 with a touch of daring, and a magnificent estab- 
 lishment better appreciated ? I do not know what 
 criterion newspaper notoriety is of social prestige, 
 but Mrs. Eodney Henderson's movements were as 
 faithfully chronicled as if she had been a visiting 
 princess or an actress of eccentric proclivities. Her 
 name appeared as patroness of all the charities, the 
 balls, the soirees, musical and literary, and if it did 
 not appear in a list of the persons at any entertain-, 
 ment, one might suspect that the affair lacked the 
 cachet of the best society. I suppose the final test 
 of one's importance is to have all the details of 
 one's wardrobe spread before the public. Judged 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 329 
 
 by this, Margaret's career in N'ew York was phe- 
 nomenal. Even our interested household could not 
 foUow her in all the changing splendor of her rai- 
 ment. In time even Miss Forsythe ceased to read 
 all these details, but she cut them out, deposited 
 them with other relics in a sort of mortuary box of 
 the child and the maiden. I used to wonder if, in 
 the Brandon attitude of mind at this period, there 
 were not just a little envy of such unclouded pros- 
 perity. It is so much easier to forgive a failure 
 than a success. 
 
 In the spring the Hendersons went abroad. The 
 resolution to go may have been sudden, for Mar- 
 garet wrote of it briefly, and had not time to run 
 up and say good-bye. The newspapers said that 
 the trip was taken on account of Mrs. Henderson's 
 health ; that it was because Henderson needed rest 
 from overwork ; that he found it convenient to be 
 away for a time, pending the settlement of certain 
 complications. There were ugly stories afloat, but 
 they were put in so many forms, and followed by 
 so many different sorts of denial, and so much im- 
 portance was attached to every word Henderson 
 uttered, and every step he took, that the general 
 impression of his far-reaching sagacity and IN'apo- 
 leonic command of fortune was immensely raised. 
 Nothing is more significant of our progress than 
 the good-humored deference of the world to this 
 sort of success. It is said that the attraction of 
 
330 ji Little Journey in the World. 
 
 gravitation lessens according to the distance from 
 the earth, and there seems to be a region of aerial 
 freedom, if one can attain it, where the moral forces 
 cease to be operative. 
 
 They remained in Europe a year, although Mr. 
 Henderson in the interim made two or three hasty 
 trips to this country, always, so far as it was made 
 public, upon errands of great importance, and in 
 connection with names of well-known foreign capi- 
 tahsts and enterprises of dignity. Margaret wrote 
 seldom, but always with evident enjoyment of her 
 experiences, which were mainly social, for wherever 
 they went they commanded the consideration that 
 is accorded to fortune. What most impressed me 
 in these hasty notes was that the woman was so 
 little interested in the persons and places which in 
 the old days she expressed such a lively desire to 
 see. If she saw them at all, it was from a different 
 point of view than that she formerly had. She did 
 indeed express her admiration of some charming 
 literary friends of ours in London, to whom I had 
 written to call on her — people in very moderate 
 circumstances, I am ashamed to say — but she had 
 not time to see much of them. She and tier hus- 
 band had spent a couple of days at Chisholm — de- 
 lightful days. Of the earl she had literally nothing 
 to say, except that he was very kind, and that his 
 family received them with the most engaging and 
 simple cordiahty. " It makes me laugh," she wrote 
 
A Ziittle Journey in the World. 331 
 
 from Chisholm, "when I think what we considered 
 fine at Lenox and Newport. I've got some ideas 
 for our new house." A note came from "John 
 Lyon" to Miss Forsythe, expressing the great pleas- 
 ure it was to return, even in so poor a way, the hos- 
 pitality he had received at Brandon. I did not see 
 it, but Miss Forsythe said it was a sad little note. 
 
 In Paris Margaret was iU — very ill; and this 
 misfortune caused for a time a revival of all the 
 old affection, in sympathy with a disappointment 
 which awoke in our womankind aU the tenderness 
 of their natures. She was indeed a little delicate 
 for some time, but all our apprehensions were re- 
 lieved by the reports from Eome of a succession 
 of gayeties little interfered with by arch^ologi- 
 cal studies. They returned in June. Of the year 
 abroad there was nothing to chronicle, and there 
 would be nothing to note except that when Mar- 
 garet passed a day with us on her return, we felt, 
 as never before, that our interests in hfe were more 
 and more divergent. 
 
 How could it be otherwise? There were so many 
 topics of conversation that we had to avoid. Even 
 Hght remarks on current news, comments that we 
 used to make freely on the conduct of conspicuous 
 persons, now carried condemnation that took a per- 
 sonal color. The doubtful means of making money, 
 the pace of fashionable life, the wasteful prodigality 
 of the time, we instinctively shraiik from speaking 
 
332 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 of before Margaret. Perhaps we did her injustice. 
 She was never more gracious, never more anxious 
 to please. I fancied that there was at times some- 
 thing pathetic in her wistful desire for our affection 
 and esteem. She was always a generous girl, and 
 I have no doubt she felt repelled at the quiet re- 
 jection of her well-meant efforts to play the Lady 
 Bountiful. There were moments during her brief 
 visit when her face was very sad, but no doubt her 
 predominant feeling escaped her in regard to the 
 criticism quoted from somebody on Jerry Hollo-, 
 well's methods and motives. " People are becom- 
 ing very self-righteous," she said. My wife said to 
 me that she was reminded of the gentle observa- 
 tion of Carmen Eschelle, " The people I cannot 
 stand are those who pretend they are not wicked." 
 If one does not believe in anybody his cynicism has 
 usually a quality of contemptuous bitterness in it. 
 One brought up as Margaret had been could not 
 very well come to her present view of life without 
 a touch of this quality, but her disposition was so 
 lovely — perhaps there is no moral quality in a good 
 temper — that change of principle could not much 
 affect it. And then she was never more winning ; 
 perhaps her beauty had taken on a more refined 
 quality from her illness abroad ; perhaps it was that 
 indefinable knowledge of the world, which is recog- 
 nized as well in dress as in manner, which increased 
 her attractiveness. This was quite apart from the 
 
A JJittle Journey in the World. 333 
 
 fact that she was not so sympathetically compan- 
 ionable to us as she once was, and it was this very 
 attractiveness of the worldly sort, I fancied, that 
 pained her aunt, and marked the separateness of 
 their sympathies. 
 
 How could it be otherwise than that our inter- 
 ests should diverge ? It was a very busy summer 
 with the Hendersons. They were planning the 
 !New Tork house, which had been one of the objects 
 of Henderson's early ambition. The sea -air had 
 been prescribed for Margaret, and Henderson had 
 built a steam-yacht, the equipment and furnishing 
 of which had been a prolific newspaper topic. It 
 was greatly admired by yachtsmen for the beauty 
 of its lines and its speed, and pages were written 
 about its sumptuous and comfortable interior. I 
 never saw it, having little faith in the comfort of 
 any structure that is not immovably reposeful, but 
 from the descriptions it was a boudoir afloat. In 
 it short voyages were made during the summer aU 
 along the coast from New York to Maine, and the 
 arrival and departure of the Henderson yacht was 
 one of the telegraphic items we always looked for. 
 Carmen Eschelle was usually of the party on board, 
 sometimes the Misses Arbuser ; it was always a gay 
 company, and in whatever harbor it dropped anch- 
 or there was a new impetus given to the some- 
 what languid pleasure of the summer season. We 
 read of the diimers and lunches on board, the en- 
 
334 A Little Jowrney in the World. 
 
 * 
 
 tertainments where there were wine and dancing 
 and moonlight, and all that. I always thought 
 of it as a fairy sort of ship, saihng on summer 
 seas, freighted with youth and beauty, and carry- 
 ing pleasure and good -fortune wherever it went. 
 What more pleasing spectacle than this in a 
 world that has such a bad name for want and 
 misery ? 
 
 Henderson was master of the situation. The 
 sudden accumulation of millions of money is a 
 mystery to most people. If Henderson had been 
 asked about it, he would have said that he had not 
 a dollar which he had not earned by hard work. 
 None worked harder. If simple industry is a virt- 
 ue, he would have been an example for Sunday- 
 school children. The object of life being to make 
 money, he would have been a perfect example. 
 "What an inspiration, indeed, for aH poor boys 
 were the names of HoUowell and Henderson, 
 which were as famihar as the name of the Presi- 
 dent! There was much speculation as to the 
 amount of Henderson's fortune, and many wild 
 estimajtes of it, but by common consent he was 
 one of the three or four great capitalists. The 
 gauge of this was his power, and the amounts he 
 could command in an emergency. There was a 
 mystery in the very fact that the amount he could 
 command was unknown. I have said that his ac- 
 cumulation was sudden ; it was probably so only 
 
A LitUe Journey in the World. 336 
 
 in appearance. For a dozen years, by operations, 
 various, secret, untiring, he had been laying the 
 foundations for his success, and in the maturing of 
 his schemes it became apparent how vast his trans- 
 actions had been. For years he had been known 
 as a rising man, and suddenly he became an 
 important man. The telegraph, the newspapers, 
 chronicled his every movement ; whatever he said 
 was construed hke a Delphic oracle. The smile 
 or the frown of Jay Hawker himself had not a 
 greater effect upon the market. 
 
 The South-west operation, which made so much 
 noise in the courts, was merely an incident. In 
 the lives of many successful men there are such 
 incidents, which they do not care to have inquired 
 into, turning-points that one slides over in the sub- 
 sequent gilded biography, or, as it is called, the 
 nickel - plated biography. The uncomfortable A. 
 and B. bondholders had been settled with and 
 silenced, after a fashion. In the end, Mrs. Fletch- 
 er had received from the company nearly the full 
 amount of her investment. I always thought this 
 was due to Margaret, but I made no inquiries. 
 There were many people who had no confidence 
 in Henderson, but generally his popularity was 
 not much affected, and whatever was said of him 
 in private, his social position was almost as unchal- 
 lenged as his financial. It was a great point in his 
 favor that he was very generous to his family and 
 
336 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 his friends, and his public charities began to be 
 talked of. Nothing could have been more admi- 
 rable than a paper which appeared about this time 
 in one of the leading magazines, written by a great 
 capitalist during a strike in his " system," on the 
 uses of wealth and the responsibilities of rich men. 
 It amused Henderson and Uncle Jerry, and Mar- 
 garet sent it, marked, to her aunt. Uncle Jerry 
 said it was very timely, for at the moment there 
 was a report that Hollowell and Henderson had 
 obtained possession of one of the great steamship 
 lines in connection with their trans-continental sys- 
 tem. I thought at the time that I should like to 
 have heard Carmen's comments on the paper. 
 
 The continued friendly alliance of Rodney Hen- 
 derson and Jerry Hollowell was a marvel to the 
 public, which expected to read any morning that 
 the one had sold out the other, or unloaded in a 
 sly deal. The Stock Exchange couldn't under- 
 stand it; it was so against all experience that it 
 was considered something outside of human nat- 
 ure. But the explanation was simple enough. 
 The two kept a sharp eye on each other, and, as 
 Uncle Jerry would say, never dropped a stitch; 
 but the simple fact was that they were necessary 
 to each other, and there had been no opportunity 
 when the one could handsomely swallow the other. 
 So it was beautiful to see their accord, and the 
 familiar understanding between them. 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 337 
 
 One day in Henderson's office — ^it was at the 
 time they were arranging the steamship " scoop " 
 — while they were waiting for the drafting of 
 some papers, Uncle Jerry suddenly asked, 
 
 " By the way, old man, what's aU this about a 
 quarter of a million for a colored college down 
 South ?" 
 
 " Oh, that's Mrs. Henderson's affair. They say 
 it's the most magnificent college building south of 
 Washington. It's big enough. I've seen the plan 
 of it. Henderson Hall, they are going to caU it. 
 I suggested Margaret Henderson HaU, but she 
 wouldn't have it." 
 
 "What is it for?" 
 
 " One end of it is scientific, geological, chemical, 
 electric, biological, and all that ; and the other end 
 is theological. Miss Eschelle says it's to reconcile 
 science and religion." 
 
 " She's a daisy — ^that girl. Seems to me, though, 
 that you are pducating the colored brother all on 
 top. I suppose, however, it wouldn't have been so 
 philanthropic to build a hall for a white college." 
 
 Henderson laughed. " You keep your eye on the 
 religious sentiment of the North, Uncle Jerry. I 
 told Mrs. Henderson that we had gone long on the 
 colored brother a good while. She said this was 
 nothing. We could endow a Henderson University 
 by-and-by in the South-west white as alabaster, and 
 I suppose we shall." 
 22 
 
338 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 "Yes, probably we've got to do sometbing in 
 tbat region to keep 'em quiet. Tbe public is a cu- 
 rious fish. It wants plenty of bait." 
 
 "And something to talk about," continued Hen- 
 derson. " We are going down next week to dedi- 
 cate Henderson Hall. I couldn't get out of it." 
 
 " Oh, it will pay," said Uncle Jerry, as he turned 
 again to business. 
 
 The trip was made in Henderson's private car ; 
 in fact, in a special train, vestibuled ; a neat bag- 
 gage car with library and reading-room in one end, 
 a dining-room car, a private car for invited guests, 
 and his own car — a luxurious structure, with draw- 
 ing-room, sleeping-room, bath-room, and office for 
 his telegrapher and type-writer. The whole was a 
 most commodious house of one story on wheels. 
 The cost of it would have built and furnished an 
 industrial school and workshop for a hundred ne- 
 groes ; but this train was, I dare say, a much more 
 inspiring example of what they might attain by the 
 higher education. There were half a dozen in the 
 party besides the Hendersons — Carmen, of course ; 
 Mr. Ponsonby, the English attach^ ; and Mrs. La- 
 flamme, to matronize three New York young ladies. 
 Margaret and Carmen had never been so far South 
 before. 
 
 Is it not agreeable to have sweet charity silver 
 shod? This sumptuous special train caused as 
 much comment as the errand on which it went. 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 339 
 
 Its coming was telegraphed from station to station, 
 and crowds everywliere collected to see it. Brisk 
 reporters boarded it ; the newspapers devoted col- 
 umns to descriptions of it ; editorials glorified it as 
 a signal example of the progress of the great repub- 
 lic, or moralized on it as a sign of the luxurious de- 
 cadence of morals, pointing to Carthage and Eome 
 and Alexandria in withering sarcasm that made 
 those places sink into insignificance as corrupters 
 of the world. There were covert allusions to Cleo- 
 patra ensconced in the silken hangings of the bou- 
 doir car, and one reporter went so far as to refer 
 to the luxury of Capua and Baise, to their dispar- 
 agement. AU this, however, was felt to add to the 
 glory of the repubUc, and it all increased the im- 
 portance of Henderson. To hear the exclamations, 
 "That's he !" " That's him !" " That's Henderson !" 
 was to Margaret in some degree a realization of her 
 ambition ; and Carmen declared that it was for her 
 a sweet thought to be identified with Cleopatra. 
 
 So the Catachoobee University had its splendid 
 new building — as great a contrast to the shanties 
 from which its pupils came as is the Capitol at 
 "Washington to the huts of a third of its population. 
 If the reader is curious he may read in the local 
 newspapers of the time glowing accounts of its " in- 
 augural dedication ;" but universities are so com- 
 mon in this country that it has become a Mttle 
 wearisome to read of ceremonies of this sort. Mr. 
 
34:0 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 Henderson made a modest reply to the barefaced 
 eulogy on himself, which the president pronounced 
 in the presence of six hundred young men and 
 women of various colors and invited guests— a eu- 
 logy which no one more thoroughly enjoyed than 
 Carmen. I am sorry to say that she refused to 
 take the affair seriously. 
 
 " I felt for you, Mr. Henderson," she said, after 
 the exercises were over. " I blushed for you. I 
 almost felt ashamed, after all the president said, 
 that you had given so little." 
 
 " You seem, Miss Eschelle," remarked Mr. Pon- 
 sonby, " to be enthusiastic about the education and 
 elevation of the colored people." 
 
 " Yes, I am ; I quite share Mr. Henderson's feel- 
 ing about it. I'm for the elevation of everything." 
 
 " There is a capital chance for you," said Hen- 
 derson ; " the university wants some scholarships." 
 
 "And I've half a mind to found one — ^the Eschelle 
 Scholarship of Washing and Clear-starching. You 
 ought to have seen my clothes that came back to 
 the car. Probably they were not done by your 
 students. The things looked as if they had been 
 dragged through the Cat-a-what-do-you-call-it Elv- 
 er, and ironed with a pine chip." 
 
 " Could you do them any better, with all your 
 cultivation ?" asked Margaret. 
 
 "I think I could, if I was obhged to. But I 
 couldn't get through that university, Avith all its 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 341 
 
 ologies and laboratories and Greek and queer bot- 
 tles and machines. You have neglected my educa- 
 tion, Mr. Henderson." 
 
 " It is not too late to begin now ; you might see 
 if you could pass the examination here. It is part 
 of our plan gradually to elevate the whites," said 
 Henderson. " 
 
 " Yes, I know ; and did you see that some of the 
 scholars had red hair and blue eyes, quite in the 
 present style? And how nice the girls looked," 
 she rattled on ; " and what a lot of intelligent 
 faces, and how they kindled up when the president 
 talked about the children of Israel in the wilder- 
 ness forty years, and Caesar crossing the Rubicon ! 
 And you, sir" — she turned to the Englishman — 
 "I've heard, were against all this emancipation 
 during the war." 
 
 " Bless my soul !" exclaimed Ponsonby, " we 
 never were against emancipation, and wanted the 
 best side to win." 
 
 " You had a mighty queer way of showing it, 
 then." 
 
 " WeU, honestly, Miss Eschelle, do you think the 
 negroes are any better off V 
 
 " You'd better ask them. My opinion is that 
 everybody should do what he likes in this world." 
 
 " Then what are you girding Mr. Henderson for 
 about his university ?" 
 
 " Because these philanthropists, like Mr. Hender- 
 
342 A Little Journey m the World. 
 
 son and Uncle Jerry Hollowell, are aH building on 
 top ; putting on the frosting before the cake rises." 
 
 " Haven't you found out, Mr. Ponsonby," Mar- 
 garet interrupted, "that if there were eight sides 
 to a question. Miss EscheUe would be on every one 
 of them?" 
 
 "And right, too. There are eight sides to every 
 question, and generally more. I think the negro 
 question has a hundred. But there is only one side 
 to Henderson Hall. It is a noble institution. I Uke 
 to think about it, and Uncle Caesar Hollowell cross- 
 ing the Eubioon in his theological seminary. It is 
 all so beautiful !" 
 
 "You are a bad child," said Margaret. "We 
 should have left you at home." 
 
 " No, not bad, dear ; only confused with such a 
 lot of good deeds in a naughty world." 
 
 That this junketing party was deeply interested 
 in the cause of education for whites or blacks, no 
 one would have gathered from the conversation. 
 Margaret felt that Carmen had exactly hit the 
 motives of this sort of philanthropy, and she^ was 
 both amused and provoked by the girl's mockery. 
 By force of old habit she defended, as well she 
 might, these schools. 
 
 " You must have a high standard," she said. 
 "You cannot have good lower schools without 
 good higher schools. And these colleges, which 
 you think above the colored people, will stimulate 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 343 
 
 them and gradually raise the whole mass. You 
 cannot do anything until you educate teachers." 
 
 " So I have always heard," replied the incor- 
 rigible. " I have always been a philanthropist 
 about the negro till I came down here, and I in- 
 tend to be again when I go back." 
 
 Mrs. Laflamme was not a very eager apostle ei- 
 ther, and the young ladies devoted themselves to 
 the picturesque aspects of the population, without 
 any concern for the moral problems. They all 
 declared that they liked the negro. But Margaret 
 was not to be moved from her good-humor by any 
 amount of badgering. She liked Henderson Hall ; 
 she was proud of the consideration it brought her 
 husband; she had a comfortable sense of doing 
 something that was demanded by her opportunity. 
 It is so difficult to analyze motives, and in Mar- 
 garet's case so hard to define the change that had 
 taken place in her. That her heart was not en- 
 listed in this affair, as it would have been a few 
 years before, she herself knew. Insensibly she had 
 come to look at the world, at men and women, 
 through her husband's eyes, to take the worldly 
 view, which is not inconsistent with much good 
 feeling and easy-going charity. She also felt the 
 necessity — a necessity totally unknown to such a 
 nature as Carmen's — of making compensation, of 
 compounding for her pleasures. Gradually she was 
 learning to play her husband's game in life, and to 
 
344 A IdtUe Journey in the World. 
 
 see no harm in it. "What, then, is this thing we call 
 conscience ? Is it made of India-rubber 'i I once 
 knew a clever Southern woman, who said that New 
 England women seemed to her all conscience — 
 Southern women all soul and impulse. If it were 
 possible to generalize in this way, we might say 
 that Carmen had neither conscience nor soul, sim- 
 ply very clever reason. Uncle Jerry had no more 
 conscience than Carmen, but he had a great deal 
 of natural affection. Henderson, with an abun- 
 dance of good-nature, was simply a man of his time, 
 troubled with no scruples that stood in the way of 
 his success. Margaret, with a finer nature than 
 either of them, stifling her scruples in an atmos- 
 phere of worldly-mindedness, was likely to go fur- 
 ther than either of them. Even such a worldhng 
 as Carmen understood this. " I do things," she said 
 to Mrs. Laflamme — she made anybody her confi- 
 dant when the fit was on her — "I do things be- 
 cause I don't care. Mrs. Henderson does the sanie, 
 but she does care." 
 
 Margaret would be a sadder woman, but not a 
 better woman, when the time came that she did 
 not care. She had come to the point of accepting 
 Henderson's methods of overreaching the world, 
 and was tempering the result with private liber- 
 aUty. Those were hypocrites who criticised him ; 
 those were envious who disparaged him ; the suf- 
 ficient ethics of the world she lived in was to be 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 345 
 
 successful and be agreeable. And it is difficult to 
 condemn a person who goes with the general opin- 
 ion of his generation. Carmen was under no illu- 
 sions about Henderson, or the methods and man- 
 ners of which she was a part. " Why pretend ?" 
 she said. " "We are all bad together, and I hke it. 
 TJncle Jerry is the easiest person to get on with." 
 I remember a delightful, wicked old baroness whom 
 I met in my youth stranded in Geneva on short al- 
 lowance — European resorts are full of such charac- 
 ters. " My dear," she said, " why shouldn't I re- 
 nege ? Why shouldn't men cheat at cards % It's 
 all in the game. Don't we aU know we are trying 
 to deceive each other and get the best of each oth- 
 er ? I stopped pretending after Waterloo. Fight- 
 ing for the peace of Europe ! Bah ! We are aU 
 fighting for what we can get." 
 
 So the Catachoobee Henderson HaU was dedi- 
 cated, and Mr. Henderson got great credit out of it. 
 
 " It's a noble deed, Mr. Henderson," Carmen re- 
 marked, when they were at dinner on the car the 
 day of their departure. "But" — in an aside to 
 her host — " I advise the lambs in Wall Street to 
 look alive at your next deal." 
 
XX. 
 
 We can get used to anything. Morgan says that 
 even the New England summer is endurable when 
 you learn to dress warmly enough. We come to 
 endure pain and loss with equanimity; one thing 
 and another drops out of our lives — ^youth, for in- 
 stance, and sometimes enthusiasm — and still we go 
 on with a good degree of enjoyment. I do not say 
 that Miss Forsythe was quite the same, or that a 
 certain zest of life and spring had not gone out of 
 the little Brandon neighborhood. 
 
 As the months and the years went by we saw 
 less and less of Margaret — less and less, that is, in 
 the old way. Her rare visits were perfunctory, 
 and gave little satisfaction to any of us ; not that 
 she was ungracious or unkindly, but simply because 
 the things we valued in life were not the same. 
 There was no doubt that any of us were welcome 
 at the Hendersons' when they were in the city, 
 genuinely, though in an exterior way, but gradually 
 we almost ceased to keep up an intercourse which 
 was a little effort on both sides. Miss Forsythe 
 came back from her infrequent city visits weary 
 and sad. 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 347 
 
 Was Margaret content ? I suppose so. She was 
 gay ; she was admired ; she was alwaj'-s on view in 
 that semi-public world in which Henderson moved ; 
 she attained a newspaper notoriety which many 
 people envied. If she journeyed anywhere, if she 
 tarried anywhere, if she had a slight illness, the 
 fact was a matter of public concern. 'We knew 
 where she worshipped ; we knew the houses she fre- 
 quented, the charities she patronized, the fetes she 
 adorned, every new costume that her wearing made 
 the fashion. Was she content ? She could perhaps 
 express no desire that an attempt was not made to 
 gratify it. But it seems impossible to get enough 
 things — enough money, enough pleasure. They 
 had a magnificent place in Newport; it was not 
 large enough; they were always adding to it — a 
 wing, a ball-room, some architectural whim or an- 
 other. Margaret had a fancy for a cottage at Bar 
 Harbor, but they rarely went there. They had an 
 interest in Tuxedo ; they belonged to an exclusive 
 club on Jekyl Island. They passed one winter 
 yachting among the islands in the eastern Mediter- 
 ranean; a part of another sailing from one trop- 
 ical paradise to another in the West Indies. If 
 there was anything that money could not obtain, it 
 seemed to be a place where they could rest in serene 
 peace with themselves. 
 
 I used to wonder whether Margaret was satisfied 
 with her husband's reputation. Perhaps she mis- 
 
348 A lAttle Journey in the World. 
 
 took the newspaper homage, the notoriety, for pub- 
 lic respect. She saw his influence and his power. 
 She saw that he was feared, and of course hated, 
 by some — the unsuccessful — but she saw the terms 
 he was on with his intimates, due to the fact that 
 everybody admitted that whatever Henderson was 
 in " a deal," privately he was a deuced good fellow. 
 
 Was this an ideal married life? Henderson's self- 
 ishness was fully developed, and I could see that he 
 was growing more and more hard. Would Mar- 
 garet not have felt it, if she also had not been 
 growing hard, and accustomed to regard the world 
 in his unbelieving way ? No, there was sharpness 
 occasionally between them, tiffs and disagreements. 
 He was a great deal away from home, and she 
 plunged into a life of her own, which had all the 
 external signs of enjoyment. I doubt if he was 
 ever very selfish where she was concerned, and 
 love can forgive almost any conduct where there 
 is personal indulgence. I had a glimpse of the 
 real state of things in a roundabout way. Hen- 
 derson loved his wife and was proud of her, and 
 he was not unkind, but he might have been a brute 
 and tied her up to the bedpost, and she never 
 would have shown by the least sign to the world 
 that she was not the most happy of wives. 
 
 When the Earl of Chisholm was in this country 
 — it was four years after Margaret's marriage — we 
 naturally saw a great deal of him. The young 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 349 
 
 fellow wlLom we liked so much had become a man, 
 with a graver demeanor, and I thought a trace of 
 permanent sadness in his face ; perhaps it was only 
 the responsibility of his position, or, as Morgan 
 said, the modern weight that must press upon an 
 eai-l who is conscientious. He was stiU unmarried. 
 The friendship between him and Miss Forsythe, 
 which had been kept alive by occasional corre- 
 spondence, became more cordial and confidential. 
 In ISTew York he had seen much of Margaret, not 
 at all to his peace of mind in many ways, though 
 the generous feUow would have been less hurt if he 
 had not estimated at its real value the life she was 
 leading. It did not need Margaret's introduction 
 for the earl to be sought for by the novelty and 
 pleasure-loving society of the city ; but he got, as 
 he confessed, small satisfaction out of the whirl of 
 it, although we knew that he met Mrs. Henderson 
 everywhere, and in a manner assisted in her social 
 triumphs. But he renewed his acquaintance with 
 Miss EscheUe, and it was the prattle of this ingen- 
 uous creature that made him more heavy-hearted 
 than anything else. 
 
 " How nice it is of you, Mr. Lyon — may I call 
 you so, to bring back the old relations ? — ^to come 
 here and revive the memory of the dear old days 
 when we were all innocent and happy ! Dear me, 
 I used to think I could patronize that little coun- 
 try girl from Brandon ! I was so worldly — don't 
 
350 A. I/ittle Journey in the World. 
 
 you remember? — and she was so good. And now 
 she is such a splendid woman, it is difficult for the 
 rest of us to keep pace with her. The nerve she 
 has, and the things she will do ! I just envy her. 
 I sometimes think she Avill drive me into a con- 
 vent. And don't you think she is more beautiful 
 than ever ? Of course her face is a little careworn, 
 but nobody makes up as she does ; she was just rav- 
 ishing the other night. Do you know I think she 
 takes her husband too seriously." 
 
 " I trust she is happy," the earl had said. 
 
 "Why shouldn't she be?" Carmen asked in return. 
 " She has everything she wants. They both have a 
 little temper ; life would be flat without that ; she 
 is a little irritable sometimes ; she didn't use to be ; 
 and when they don't agree they let each other alone 
 for a little. I think she is as happy as anybody can 
 be who is married. Now you are shocked ! Well, I 
 don't know any one who is more in love than she 
 is, and that may be happiness. She is becoming ex- 
 actly like Mr. Henderson. You couldn't ask any- 
 thing more than that." 
 
 If Margaret were reaUy happy, the earl told 
 Miss Forsythe, he was glad, but it was scarcely the 
 career he would have thought would have suited 
 her. 
 
 Meantime, the great house was approaching com- 
 pletion. Henderson's palace, in the upper part of 
 the city, had long been a topic for the correspond- 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 351 
 
 ents of the country press. It occupied half a 
 square. Many critics were discontented with it 
 because it did not occupy the whole square. 
 Everybody was interested in having it the finest 
 residence on the continent. Why didn't Hender- 
 son take the whole block of ground, build his 
 palace on three sides, with the oflBces and stables 
 on the fourth, throw a glass roof over the vast in- 
 terior court, plant it with tropical trees and plants, 
 adorn it with flower-beds and fountains, and make 
 a veritable winter-garden, giving the inhabitants a 
 temperate chmate all the cold months ? He might 
 easily have summer in the centre of the city from 
 November to April. These rich people never 
 know what to do with their money. Such a place 
 would give distinction to the city, and compel for- 
 eigners to recognize the higlj civilization of Amer- 
 ica. A great deal of fault was found with Hen- 
 derson privately for his parsimony in such a splen- 
 did opportunity. 
 
 Nevertheless it was already one of the sights of 
 the town. Strangers were taken to see it,, as it 
 rose in its simple grandeur. Local reporters made 
 articles on the progress of the interior whenever 
 they could get an entrance. It was not ornate 
 enough to please, generally, but those who admired 
 the old Louvre liked the simphcity of its lines and 
 the dignity of the elevations. They discovered 
 the domestic note in its quiet character, and said 
 
352 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 that the architect had avoided the look of an " in- 
 stitution " in such a great mass. He was not afraid 
 of dignified Avail space, and there was no nervous 
 anxiety manifested, which would have belittled it 
 with trivial ornamentation. 
 
 Perhaps it was not an American structure, al- 
 though one could find in it all the rare woods and 
 stones of the continent. Great numbers of foreign 
 workmen were employed in its finishing and dec- 
 oration. One could wander in it from Pompeii to 
 Japan, from India to Versailles, from Greece to 
 the England of the Tudors, from the Alhambra to 
 colonial Salem. It was so cosmopolitan that a 
 representative of almost any nationality, ancient 
 or modern, could have been suited in it with an 
 apartment to his taste, and if the interior lacked 
 unity it did not laqj£ a display of variety that 
 appealed to the imagination. From time to time 
 paragraphs appeared in English, French, and Ital- 
 ian journals, regarding the work of this and that 
 famous artist who was designing a set of furniture 
 or furnishing the drawings of a room, or carving 
 the panelling and statuary, or painting the ceiling 
 of an apartment in the great Palazzo Henderson 
 in New York — Washington. The United Ameri- 
 can Workers (who were half foreigners by birth) 
 passed resolutions denouncing Henderson for em- 
 ploying foreign pauper labor, and organized more 
 than one strike while the house was building. It 
 
A lAtUe Journey in the World. 353 
 
 was very unpatriotic and un-American to have 
 anything done that could not be done by a mem- 
 ber of the Union. There was a firm of excellent 
 stone-cutters which offered to make all the statu- 
 ary needed in the house, and set it up in good 
 shape, and when the offer was declined, it memo- 
 rialized Congress for protection. 
 
 Although Henderson gave what time he could 
 spare to the design and erection of the building, it 
 pleased him to call it Margaret's house, and to see 
 the eagerness with which she entered into its em- 
 bellishment. There was something humorous in 
 the enlargement of her ideas since the days when 
 she had wondered at the magnificence of the 
 "Washington Square home, and modestly protested 
 against its luxury. Her own boudoir was a cheap 
 affair compared to that in the new house. 
 
 " Don't you think, dear," she said, puzzling over 
 the drawings, " that it would better be all sandal- 
 wood ? I hate mosaics. It looks so cheap to have 
 little bits of precious woods stuck about." 
 
 " I should think so. But what do you do with 
 the ebony ?" 
 
 " Oh, the ebony and gold ? That is the adjoin- 
 ing sitting-room — such a pretty contrast." 
 
 "And the teak?" 
 
 " It has such a beautiful pohsh. That is another 
 room. Carmen says that will be our sober room, 
 where we go when we want to repent of things." 
 23 
 
354 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 " "Well, if you have any sandal-wood left over, 
 you oan work it into your Boys' Lodging-house, 
 you know." 
 
 " Don't be foolish ! And then the ball-room, 
 ninety feet long — it looks small on the paper. And 
 do you think we'd better have those hfe-size figures 
 all round, mediaeval statues, with the incan descents? 
 Carmen says she would prefer a row of monks — 
 something piquant about that in a ball-room. I 
 don't know that I like the figures, after all ; they 
 are too crushing and heavy." 
 
 " It would make a good room for the Common 
 Council," Henderson suggested. 
 
 " Wouldn't it be prettier hung with silken arras 
 figured with a chain of dancing-girls ? Dear me, 
 I don't know what to do. Eodney, you must put 
 your mind on it." 
 
 ' ' Might line it with gold plate. I'll make arrange- 
 ments so that you can draw on the Bank of Eng- 
 land." 
 
 Margaret looked hurt. " But you told me, dear, 
 not to spare anything — that we would have the 
 finest house in the city. I'm sure I sha'n't enjoy it 
 unless you want it." 
 
 " Oh, I want it," resumed Henderson, good-hu- 
 moredly. " Go ahead, little wife. "We shaU pull 
 through." 
 
 " "Women beat me," Henderson confessed to 
 Uncle Jerry next day. " They are the most eco- 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 365 
 
 nomical of beings and the most extravagant. I've 
 got to look round for an extra million somewhere 
 to-day." 
 
 "Yes, there is this good thing about women," 
 Uncle Jerry responded, with a twinkle in his eyes, 
 " they share your riches just as cheerfully as they 
 do your poverty. I tell Maria that if I had the ca- 
 pacity for making money that she has for spending 
 it I could assume the national debt." 
 
 To have the finest house in the city, or rather, in 
 the American newspaper phrase, in the Western 
 world, was a comprehensible ambition for Hender- 
 son, for it was a visible expression of his wealth 
 and his cultivated taste. But why Margaret should 
 wish to exchange her dainty and luxurious home in 
 Washington Square for the care of a vast establish- 
 ment big enough for a royal court, my wife could 
 not comprehend. But why not ? To be the visible 
 leader in her world, to be able to dispense a hospi- 
 tality which should surpass anything heretofore 
 seen, to be the mistress and autocrat of an army of 
 servants, with ample room for their evolution, in a 
 palace whose dimensions and splendor should awak- 
 en envy and astonishment — would this not be an 
 attraction to a woman of imagination and spirit ? 
 
 Besides, they had outgrown the old house. There 
 was no longer room for the display, scarcely for 
 the storage, of the works of art, the pictures, the 
 curiosities, the books, that unlimited money and 
 
356 A Little Journey in tJie World. 
 
 the opportunity of foreign travel had collected in 
 all these years. " "We must either build or send our 
 things to a warehouse," Henderson had long ago 
 said. Among the obligations of wealth is the obli- 
 gation of display. People of small means do not 
 allow for the expansion of mind that goes along 
 with the accumulation of property. It was only 
 natural that Margaret, who might have been con- 
 tented with two rooms and a lean-to as the wife of 
 a country clergyman, should have felt cramped in 
 her old house, which once seemed a world too large 
 for the country girl. 
 
 " I don't see how you could do with less room," 
 Carmen said, with an air of profound conviction. 
 They were looking about the house on its last un- 
 inhabited day, directing the final disposition of its 
 contents. For Carmen, as well as for Margaret, the 
 decoration and the furnishing of the house had 
 been an occupation. The girl had the whim of 
 playing the part of restrainer and economizer in 
 everything ; but Henderson used to say, when Mar- 
 garet told him of Carmen's suggestions, that a little 
 more of her economy would ruin him. 
 
 " Yes," Margaret admitted, " there does not seem 
 to be anything that is not necessary." 
 
 " Not a thing. "When you think of it, two people 
 require as much space as a dozen ; when you go be- 
 yond one room, you must go on. Of course you 
 couldn't get on without a reception-room, drawing- 
 
A lAttle Journey in the World. 357 
 
 rooms, a conservatory, a music -room, a librarj'', a 
 morning -room, a breakfast -room, a smaE dining- 
 room and a state dining-room, Mr. Henderson's 
 snuggery, with his own library, a billiard-room, a 
 picture-gallery — it is full already; you'll have to 
 extend it or sell some pictures^your own suite and 
 Mr. Henderson's suite, and the guest-rooms, and I 
 forgot the theatre in the attic. I don't see but you 
 have scrimped to the last degree." 
 
 " And yet there is room to move about," Mar- 
 garet acknowledged, with a gratified smile, as they 
 wandered around. " Dear me, I used to think the 
 Stotts house was a palace." 
 
 It was the height of the season before Lent. 
 There had been one delay and another, but at last 
 all the workmen had been expelled, and Margaret 
 was mistress of her house. Cards for the house- 
 warming had been out for two weeks, and the 
 event was near. She was in her own apartments 
 this pale, wintry afternoon, putting the finishing 
 touches to her toilet. Nothing seemed to suit. The 
 maid found her in a very bad humor. " Eemem- 
 ber," she had said to her husband, when he ordered 
 his brougham after breakfast, " sharp seven, we are 
 to dine- alone the first time." It lacked two hours 
 yet of dinner-time, but she was dressing for want 
 of other occupation. 
 
 "Was this then the summit of her ambition ? She 
 had indeed looked forward to some such moment 
 
358 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 as this as one of exultation in the satisfaction of all 
 her wishes. She took up a book of apothegms that 
 lay on the table, and opened by chance to this, " Un- 
 happy are they whose desires are all gratified." It 
 was like a sting. Were her desires all gratified ? 
 Why should she think at this moment of her girl- 
 hood; of the ideals indulged in during that quiet 
 time ; of her aunt's cheerful, tender, lonely life ; of 
 her rejection of Mr. Lyon ? She did not love Mr. 
 Lyon; she was not satisfied then. How narrow 
 that little hfe in Brandon had been ! She threw 
 the book from her. She hated all that restraint 
 and censoriousness. If her aunt could see her in 
 all this splendor, she would probably be sadder 
 than ever. What right had she to sit there and 
 mourn — as she knew her aunt did — and sigh over 
 her career ? What right had they to sit in judg- 
 ment oh her ? 
 
 She went out from her room, down the great 
 stair-way, into the spacious house, pausing in the 
 great hall to see opening vista after vista in the 
 magnificent apartments. It was the first time that 
 she had alone reaUy taken the full meaning of it — 
 had possessed it with the eye. It was hers. Wher- 
 ever she went, all hers. No, she had desires yet. It 
 should be filled with life — it should be the most 
 brilhant house in the world. Society should see, 
 should acknowledge the leadership. Yes — as she 
 glanced at herself in a drawing-room mirror — they 
 
A LitUe Jov/mey in the World. 359 
 
 should see that Henderson's wife was capable of a 
 success equal to his own, and she would stop the 
 hateful gossip about him. She set her foot firmly 
 as she thought about it; she would crush those 
 people who had sneered at them as parvenu. She 
 straj'ed into the noble gallery. Some face there 
 touched her, some landscape soothed her. IS.0, she 
 said to herself, I will win them, I do not want hate- 
 ful strife. 
 
 Who knows what is in a woman? how many 
 moods in a quarter of an hour, and which is the 
 characteristic one? "Was this the Margaret who 
 had walked with Lyon that Sunday afternoon of 
 the baptism, and had a heart full of pain for the 
 pitiful suffering of the world? 
 
 As she sat there she grew calmer. Her thoughts 
 went away in a vision of all the social possibilities 
 of this wonderful house. From vaguely admiring 
 what she looked at, she began to be critical ; this 
 and that could be changed to advantage ; this shade 
 of hanging was not harmonious ; this light did not 
 fall right. She smiled to think that her husband 
 thought it all done. How he would laugh to find 
 that she was already planning to rearrange it! 
 Hadn't she been satisfied for almost twenty-four 
 hours ? That was a long time for a woman. Then 
 she thought of the reception; of the guests; of 
 what some of them would wear ; how they would 
 look about ; Avhat they would say. She was already 
 
360 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 in that world -which was so shining and shifting 
 and attractive. She did not hear Henderson come 
 in until his arm was around her. 
 
 " Well, sweet, keeping house alone ? I've had a 
 jolly day ; lucky as old Mr. Luck." 
 
 " Have you ?" she cried, springing up. " I'm so 
 glad. Come, see the house." 
 
 " You look a little pale," he said, as they strolled 
 out to the conservatory together. 
 
 "Just a little tired," she admitted. "Do you 
 know, Kodney, I hated this house at five o'clock — 
 positively hated it ?" 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Oh, I don't know ; I was thinking. But I liked 
 it at half-past six. I love it now. I've got used 
 to it, as if I had always lived here. Isn't it beau- 
 tiful everywhere? But I'm going to make some 
 changes." 
 
 "A hanging garden on the roof?" Henderson 
 asked, with meekness. 
 
 "That would be nice. No, not now. But to 
 make over and take off the new look. Everything 
 looks so new." 
 
 " Well, we wiU try to live that down." 
 
 And so they wandered on, admiring, bantering, 
 planning. Could Etienne Debree have seen his 
 descendant at this moment he would have been 
 more than ever proud of his share in establishing 
 the great republic, and of his appreciation of the 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 361 
 
 promise of its beauty. What satisfies a woman's 
 heart is luxury, thought Henderson, in an admir- 
 ing, cynical moment. 
 
 They had come into his own den and library, 
 and he stood looking at the rows of his favorite 
 collection shining in their new home. For all its 
 newness it had a familiar look. He thought for a 
 moment that he might be in his old bachelor quar- 
 ters. Suddenly Margaret made a rush at him. 
 She shook the great fellow. She feasted her eyes 
 on him. 
 
 " What's got into you to look so splendid ? Do 
 you hear, go this instant and dress, and make your- 
 self ten times as fasciuating." 
 
XXI. 
 
 Lrv^E not unto yourselves! Can any one deny 
 that this blessed sentiment is extending in modern 
 life ? Do "we build houses for ourselves or for oth- 
 ers? Do we make great entertainments for our 
 own comfort? I do not know that anybody re- 
 garded the erection of the Henderson palace as an 
 altruistic performance. The socialistic newspapers 
 said that it was pure ostentation. But had it not 
 been all along in the minds of the builders to ask 
 all the world to see it, to share the delight of it ? 
 Is this a selfish spirit ? When I stroll in the Park 
 am I not pleased with the equipages, with the dis- 
 play of elegance upon which so much money has 
 been lavished for my enjoyment? 
 
 All the world was asked to the Henderson re- 
 ception. The coming event was the talk of the 
 town. I have now cuttings from the great jour- 
 nals, articles describing the house, more beautiful- 
 ly written than Gibbon's stately periods about the 
 luxury of later Home. It makes one smUe to hear 
 that the day of fine writing is over. Everybody 
 was eager to go ; there was some plotting to ob- 
 tain invitations by those who felt that they could 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 363 
 
 not afford to be omitted from the list that would 
 be printed ; by those who did not know the Hen- 
 dersons, and did not care to know them, but 
 who shared the general curiosity ; and everybody 
 vowed that he supposed he must go, but he hated 
 such a crush and jam as it was sure to be. Yet 
 no one would have cared to go if it had not prom- 
 ised to be a crush. I said that all the world was 
 asked, which is our way of saying that a thousand 
 or two had been carefully selected from the mill- 
 ion within reach. Invitations came to Brandon, of 
 course, for old times' sake. The Morgans said that 
 they preferred a private view ; Miss Forsythe de- 
 clared that she hadn't the heart to go ; in short, 
 Mr. and Mrs. Fairchild alone went to represent the 
 worldly element. 
 
 I am sorry to say that the reader must go to the 
 files of the city press for an account of the night's 
 festivity. The pen that has been used in portray- 
 ing Margaret's career is entirely inadequate to it. 
 There is a general impression that an American 
 can do anything that he sets his hand to, but it is 
 not true ; it is true only that he tries everything. 
 The reporter is born, as the poet is ; it cannot be 
 acquired — that astonishing, irresponsible command 
 of the English language ; that warm, lyrical tone ; 
 that color, and bewildering metaphorical brill- 
 iancy ; that picturesqueness ; that use of words as 
 the painter uses pigments, in splashes and blotches 
 
364 A Jyittle Journey in the World. 
 
 whicli are so effective ; that touch of raillery and 
 sarcasm and condescension ; that gay enjoyment of 
 revelling in the illimitable ; that air of superior 
 knowledge and style ; that dash of sentiment ; that 
 calm and somewhat haughty judgment. 
 
 I am always impressed at such an entertainment 
 with the good-humor of the American people, no 
 matter what may be the annoyance and discom- 
 fort. In all the push and thrust and confusion, 
 amid the rending of trains, the tearing of lace, the 
 general crushing of costumes, there was the merri- 
 est persiflage, laughter, and chatter, and men and 
 women entered into and drew out of the fashion- 
 able wreck in the highest spirits. For even in 
 such a spacious mansion there were spots where 
 currents met, and rooms where there was a fight 
 for mere breath. It would have been a tame affair 
 without this struggle. And what an epitome of 
 life it all was ! There were those who gave them- 
 selves up to admiration, who gushed with enthusi* 
 asm ; there were those who had the weary air of 
 surfeit with splendor of this sort ; there were the 
 bustling and volatile, who made facetious remarks, 
 and treated the affair like a Fourth of July; and 
 there were also groups dark and haughty, like the 
 Stotts, who held a little aloof, and coldly admitted 
 that it was most successful ; it lacked je ne sais 
 quoi, but it was in much better taste than they 
 had expected. Is there something in the very 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 365 
 
 nature of a crowd to bring out the inherent vul- 
 garity of the best-bred people, so that some have 
 doubted whether the highest civilization wiU tol- 
 erate these crushing and hilarious assemblies ? 
 
 At any rate, one could enjoy the general effect. 
 There might be vulgar units, and one caught notes 
 of talk that disenchanted, but there were so many 
 women of rare and stately beauty, of exquisite love- 
 liness, of charm in manner and figure — so many 
 men of fine presence, with such an air of power 
 and manly prosperity and self-reliance — I doubt if 
 any other assembly in the world, undecorated by 
 orders and uniforms, with no blazon of rank, would 
 have a greater air of distinction. Looking over it 
 from a landing in the great stair-way that com- 
 manded vistas and ranges of the lofty, brilliant 
 apartments, vivified by the throng, which seemed 
 ennobled by the spacious splendor in which it 
 moved, one would be pardoned a feeling of national 
 pride in the spectacle. I drew aside to let a state- 
 ly train of beauty and of fashion descend, and saw 
 it sweep through the haU, and enter the drawing- 
 rooms, until it was lost in a sea of shifting color. 
 It was like a dream. 
 
 And the centre of all this charming plutocratic 
 graciousness and beauty was Margaret — Margaret 
 and her handsome husband. Where did the New 
 Hampshire boy learn this simple dignity of bear- 
 ing, this good-humored cordiality without conde- 
 
366 A lAMle Journey in the World. 
 
 scension, this easy air of the man of the world ? 
 "Was this the railway wrecker, the insurance ma- 
 nipulator, the familiar of Uncle Jerry, the king of 
 the lobby, the pride and the bugaboo of Wall 
 Street ? Margaret was regnant. And how charm- 
 ingly she received her guests! How well I knew 
 that half -imperious toss of the head, and the glance 
 of those level, large gray eyes, softened instantly, 
 on recognition, into the sweetest smile of welcome 
 playing about the dimple and the expressive mouth! 
 What woman would not feel a little thrill of tri- 
 umph ? The world was at her feet. Why was it, 
 I wonder, as I stood there watching the throng 
 which saluted this queenly woman of the world, in 
 an hour of supreme social triumph, while the notes 
 of the distant orchestra came softly on the air, and 
 the overpowering perfume of banks of flowers and 
 tropical plants^why was it that I thought of a 
 fair, simple girl, stirred with noble ideals, eager 
 for the intellectual life, tender, sympathetic, cou- 
 rageous? It was Margaret Debree — how often I 
 had seen her thus ! — sitting on her little veranda, 
 swinging her chip hat by the string, glowing from 
 some errand in which her heart had played a much 
 more important part than her purse. I caught the 
 odor of the honeysuckle that climbed on the porch, 
 and I heard the note of the robin that nested 
 there. 
 
 " You seem to be in a brown-study," said Car- 
 
^ Little Journey in the World. 367 
 
 men, who came up, leaning on the arm of the E^rl 
 of Chisholm. 
 
 "I'm lost in admiration. You must make al- 
 lowance. Miss EscheUe, for a person from the coun- 
 try." 
 
 " Oh, we are all from the country. That is the 
 beauty of it. There is Mr. Hollowell, used to drive 
 a peddler's cart, or something of that sort, up in 
 Maine, talking with Mr. Stott, whose father came 
 in on the towpath of the Erie Canal. You don't 
 dance? The earl has just been giving me a whirl 
 in the baU-room, and I've been trying to make him 
 understand about democracy." 
 
 " Yes," the earl rejoined ; " Miss EscheUe has 
 been interpreting to me repubUcan simplicity." 
 
 "And he cannot point out, Mr. Fairchild, why 
 this is not as good as a reception at St. James.* I 
 suppose it's his pohteness." 
 
 " Indeed, it is all very charming. It must be a 
 great thing to be the architect of your own fort- 
 une." 
 
 " Yes ; we are all self-made," Carmen confessed. 
 " I am, and I get dreadfully tired of it sometimes. 
 I have to read over the Declaration and look at 
 the map of the "Western country at such times. A 
 body has to have something to hold on to." 
 
 " Why, this seems pretty substantial," I said, 
 wondering what the girl was driving at. 
 
 " Oh yes ; I suppose the world looks soUd from 
 
368 A Little Journey in the Wovld. 
 
 a balloon. I heard one man say to another just 
 now, ' How long do you suppose Henderson will 
 last?' Probably we shall all come down by the 
 run together by-and-by." 
 
 " You seem to be on a high plane," I suggested. 
 
 " I guess it's the influence of the earl. But I am 
 the most misunderstood of women. "What I really 
 hke is simplicity. Can you have that without the 
 social traditions," she appealed to the earl, " such 
 as you have in England ?" 
 
 " I really cannot say," the earl replied, laughing. 
 " I fancied there was simplicity in Erandon ; per- 
 haps that was traditional." 
 
 " Oh, Brandon !" Carmen cried, " see what Bran- 
 don does when it gets a chance. I assure your lord- 
 ship that we used to be very simple people in New 
 York. Come, let us go and tell Mrs. Henderson 
 how delightful it all is. I'm so sorry for her." 
 
 As I moved about afterwards with my wife we 
 heard not many comments, a word here and there 
 about Henderson's wonderful success, a remark 
 about Margaret's beauty, some sympathy for her 
 in such a wearisome ordeal — the world is full of 
 kindness — the house duly admired, and the ordina- 
 ry compliments paid ; the people assembled were, 
 as usual, absorbed in their own affairs. From all 
 we could gather, all those present were used to 
 living in a palace, and took all the splendor quite 
 as a matter of course. Was there no envy ? Was 
 
A Idttle Journey in the World. 369 
 
 there nothing said about the airs of a country- 
 school-ma'am, the aplomh of an adventurer ? "Were 
 there no criticisms afterwards as the guests rolled 
 home in their carriages, surfeited and exhausted? 
 "What would you have? Do you expect the mil- 
 lennium to iegin in New York ? 
 
 The newspapers said that it was the most brill- 
 iant affair the metropohs had ever seen. I have 
 no doubt it was. And I do not judge, either, by 
 the newspaper estimates of the expense. I take 
 the simple words addressed by the earl to Mar- 
 garet, when he said good-night, at their fuU value. 
 She flushed with pleasure at his modest commen- 
 dation. Perhaps it was to her the seal of her 
 night's triumph. 
 
 The house was opened. The world had seen it. 
 The world had gone. If sleep did not come that 
 night to her tired head on the piUow, what won- 
 der ? She had a position in the great world. In 
 imagination it opened wider and wider. Could 
 not the infinite possibQities of it fill the hunger of 
 any soul ? 
 
 The echoes of the Henderson reception con- 
 tinued long in the country press. Items multi- 
 plied as to the cost. It was said that the sum ex- 
 pended in flowers alone, which withered in a night, 
 would have endowed a ward in a charity hospital. 
 Some wag said that the price of the supper would 
 have changed the result of the Presidential election. 
 24 
 
370 ^ Little Journey in the World. 
 
 Views of the mansion were given in the illustrated 
 papers, and portraits of Mr. and Mrs. Henderson. 
 In country villages, in remote farm-houses, this 
 great social event was talked of, Henderson's wealth 
 was the subject of conjecture, Margaret's toilet 
 was an object of interests It was a shining exam- 
 ple of success. Preachers, whose sensational ser- 
 mons are as widely read as descriptions of great 
 crimes, morahzed on Henderson's career and Hen- 
 derson's palace, and raised up everywhere an en- 
 vied image of worldly prosperity. "When he first 
 arrived in New York, with only fifty cents in his 
 pocket — so the story ran — and walked up Broad- 
 way and Fifth Avenue, he had nearly been run 
 over at the corner of Twenty-sixth Street by a car- 
 riage, the occupants of which, a lady and gentle- 
 man, had stared insolently at the country youth. 
 Never mind, said the lad to himself, the day will 
 come when you will cringe to me. And the day 
 did come when the gentleman begged Henderson 
 to spare him in "Wall Street, and his wife intrigued 
 for an invitation to Mrs. Henderson's ball. The 
 reader knows there is not a word of truth in this. 
 Alas ! said the preacher, if he had only devoted 
 his great talents to the service of the Good and 
 the True ! Behold how vain are all the triumphs 
 of this world ! see the result of the worship of 
 Mammon ! My friends, the age is materialized, a 
 spirit of worldliness is abroad ; be vigilant, lest the 
 
A lAttle Jov/rney in the World. 371 
 
 deceitfulness of riches send your souls to perdition. 
 And the plain country people thanked God for 
 such a warning, and the country girl dreamed of 
 Margaret's career, and the country boy studied the 
 ■ways of Henderson's success, and resolved that he, 
 too, would seek his fortune in this bad metropoKs. 
 The Hendersons were important people. It was 
 impossible that a knowledge of their importance 
 should not have a reflex influence upon Margaret. 
 Could it be otherwise than that gradually the flne- 
 ness of her discrimination should be dulled by the 
 almost universal public consent in the methods by 
 which Henderson had achieved his position, and 
 that in time she should come to regard adverse 
 judgment as the result of envy ? Henderson him- 
 self was under less illusion ; the world was about 
 what he had taken it for, only a little worse — 
 more gullible, and with less principle. Carmen had 
 mocked at Margaret's belief in Henderson. It is 
 certainly a pitiful outcome that Margaret, with her 
 naturally believing nature, should in the end have 
 had a less clear perception of what was right and 
 wrong than Henderson himself. Yet Henderson 
 would not have shrunk, any more than Carmen 
 would, from any course necessary to his ends, 
 while Margaret would have shrunk from many 
 things ; but in absolute worldliness, in devotion to 
 it, the time had come when Henderson felt that 
 his Puritan wife was no restraint upon him. It 
 
372 A Little Journey m the World. 
 
 was this that broke gentle Miss Forsythe's heart 
 when she came fully to reahze it. 
 
 I said that the world was at Margaret's feet. 
 "Was it? How many worlds are there, and does 
 one ever, except by birth (in a repubhc), conquer 
 them all ? Truth to say, there were penefy-alia in 
 New York society concerning which this success- 
 ful woman was uneasy in her heart. There were 
 people who had accepted her invitations, to whose 
 houses she had been, who had a dozen ways of mak- 
 ing her feel that she was not of them. These peo- 
 ple — I suppose that if two castaways landed naked 
 on a desert island, one of them would instantly be 
 the ancien regime — had spoken of Mrs. Henderson 
 and her ambition to the Earl of Chisholm in a way 
 that pained him. They graciously assumed that 
 he, as one of the elect, would understand them. It 
 was therefore with a heavy heart that he came to 
 say good-bye to Margaret before his return. 
 
 I cannot imagine anything more uncomfortable 
 for an old lover than a meeting of this sort ; but 
 I suppose the honest feUow could not resist the in- 
 clination to see Margaret once more. I dare say 
 she had a little flutter of pride in receiving him, 
 in her consciousness of the change in herself into 
 a wider experience of the world. And she may 
 have been a little chagrined that he was not ap- 
 parently more impressed by her surroundings, nor 
 noticed the change in herself, but met her upon the 
 
A Little Jowrney in the World. 373 
 
 ground of simple sincerity where they had once 
 stood. "What he tried to see, what she felt he was 
 trying to see, was not the beautiful woman about 
 whose charm and hospitahty the town talked, but 
 the girl he had loved in the old days. 
 
 He talked a Mttle, a very little, about himself and 
 his work in England, and a great deal about what 
 had interested him here on his second visit, the so- 
 cial drift, the pohtics, the organized charities ; and 
 as he talked, Margaret was conscious how little the 
 world in which she lived seemed to interest him ; 
 how Mttle importance he attached to it. And she 
 saw, as in a momentary vision of herself, that the 
 things that once absorbed her and stirred her sym- 
 pathies were now measurably indifferent to her. 
 Book after book which he casually mentioned, as 
 showing the drift of the age, and profoundly af- 
 fecting modern thought, she knew only by name. 
 "I guess," said Carmen, afterwards, when Margaret 
 spoke of the earl's conversation, " that he is one of 
 those who are trying to live in the spirit — what do 
 they caU it ? — care for things of the mind." 
 
 " You are doing a noble work," he said, " in your 
 Palace of Industry." 
 
 " Yes, it is very weU managed," Margaret rephed ; 
 " but it is uphiU work, the poor are so ungrateful for 
 charity." 
 
 "Perhaps nobody, Mrs. Henderson, likes to be 
 treated as an object of charity." 
 
374 A Little Journey m the World. 
 
 ""Well, work isn't -what they want when we give 
 it, and they'd rather hve in the dirt than in clean 
 apartments." 
 
 " Many of them don't know any better, and a 
 good many of our poor resent condescension." 
 
 " Yes," said Margaret, with warmth ; " they are 
 getting to demand things as their right, and they 
 are insolent. The last time I drove down in that 
 quarter I was insulted by their manner. "What are 
 you going to do with such people ? One big fel- 
 low who was leaning against a lamp-post growled, 
 ' You'd better stay in your own palace, miss, and 
 not come prying round here.' And a brazen girl 
 cried out : ' Shut yer mouth, Dick ; the lady's got 
 to have some pleasure. Don't yer see, she's a-slum- 
 min' ?' " 
 
 " It's very hard, I know," said the earl ; " perhaps 
 we are aU on the wrong track." 
 
 "Maybe. Mr. Henderson says that the world 
 would get on better if everybody minded his own 
 business." 
 
 " I wish it were possible," the earl remarked, with 
 an air of finishing the topic. " I have just been up 
 to Brandon, Mrs. Henderson. I fear that I have 
 seen the dear place for the last time." 
 
 " You don't mean that you are tired of Amer- 
 ica?" 
 
 " Not that. I shall never, even in thought, tire 
 of Brandon." 
 
A lAtUe Journey in the World. 375 
 
 " Yes, they are dear, good people." 
 
 " I thought Miss Forsythe — what a sweet, brave 
 woman she is ! — was looking sad and weary." 
 
 " Oh, aunt won't do anything, or take an inter- 
 est in anything. She just stays there. I've tried 
 in vain to get her here. Do you know" — and she 
 turned upon the earl a look of the old playfulness 
 — " she doesn't quite approve of me." 
 
 "Oh," he replied, hesitating a Uttle — "I think, 
 Mrs. Henderson, that her heart is bound up in you. 
 It isn't for me to say that you haven't a truer 
 friend in the world." 
 
 " Yes, I know. If I'd only " — and she stopped, 
 with a petulant look on her fair face — " well, it 
 doesn't matter. She is a dear soul." 
 
 " I suppose," said the earl, rising, " we shall see 
 you again on the other side ?" 
 
 "Perhaps," with a smile. Could anything be 
 more commonplace than such a parting? Good- 
 bye, I shaU see you to-morrow or next year, or in 
 the next world. Hail and farewell ! That is the 
 common experience. But, oh, the bitterness of it 
 to many a soul ! 
 
 It is quite possible that when the Earl of Chis- 
 hohn said good-bye, with an air of finality, Mar- 
 garet felt that another part of her life was closed. 
 He was not in any way an extraordinary person, 
 he was not a very rich peer, probably with his 
 modesty and conscientiousness, and devotion to the 
 
376 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 ordinary duties of his station, he would never at- 
 tain high rank in the government. Yet no one 
 could be long with him without apprehending that 
 his life was on a high plane. It was with a little 
 irritation that Margaret recognized this, and re- 
 membered, with a twinge of conscience, that it was 
 upon that plane that her hfe once travelled. The 
 time had been when the more important thing to 
 her was the world of ideas, of books, of intellect- 
 ual life, of passionate sympathy with the fortunes 
 of humanity, of deepest interest in aU the new 
 thoughts struck out by the leaders who studied 
 the profound problems of life and destiny. 
 
 That peace of mind which is found only in the 
 highest activity for the noblest ends she once had, 
 though she thought it then unrest and striving — 
 what Carmen, who was under no illusions about 
 Henderson, or Uncle Jerry, or the world of fash- 
 ion, and had an intuitive perception of cant that is 
 sometimes denied to the children of light, called 
 " taking pleasure in the things of the mind." To 
 do Margaret justice, there entered into her reflec- 
 tions no thought of the title and position of the 
 Earl of Chisholm. They had never been alluring 
 to her. If one could take any satisfaction in this 
 phase of her character, her worldhness was purely 
 American. 
 
 " I hardly know which I should prefer," Carmen 
 was saying when they were talking over the ball 
 
A iMtle Journey m the World. 377 
 
 and the earl's departure, " to be an English count- 
 ess or the wife of an American millionaire." 
 
 " It might depend upon the man," replied Mar- 
 garet, with a smUe. 
 
 " The American," continued Carmen, not heed- 
 ing this suggestion, " has the greater opportunities, 
 and is not hindered bj traditions. If you were a 
 countess you would have to act Uke a countess. If 
 you are an American you can act — ^like anything — 
 you can do what you please. That is nicer. Now, 
 an earl must do what an earl has always done. 
 What could you do with such a husband? Mind ! 
 Yes, I know, dear, about things of the mind. First, 
 you know, he wiU be a gentleman socialist (in the 
 magazines), and maybe a Christian socialist, or a 
 Christian scientist, or something of that sort, inter- 
 ested in the Mind Cure." 
 
 "I should think that would suit you. Last I 
 knew, you were deep in the Mind Cure." 
 
 " So I was. That was last week. Now I'm in 
 the Faith Cure ; I've found out about both. The 
 difference is, in the Mind Cure you don't require 
 any faith; in the Faith Cure you don't require 
 any mind. The Faith Cure just suits me." 
 
 " So you put your faith in an American million- 
 aire 1" 
 
 " Yes, I think I should, until an American mill- 
 ionaire put faith in me. That might shake me. 
 It is such a queer world. No, I'm in doubt. If 
 
378 A JLitUe Journey in the World. 
 
 you loved an earl he would stay an earl. If you 
 loved an American millionaire, ten to one he would 
 fail." 
 
 Margaret did not escape the responsibility of 
 her success. "Who does ? My dear Charmian, who 
 wrote the successful novel of last year, do you not 
 already repent your rash act ? If you do not write 
 a better novel this year, will not the public flout 
 you and jeer you for a pretender ? Did the public 
 overpraise you at first? Its mistaken partiahty 
 becomes now your presumption. Last year the 
 press said you were the rival of Hawthorne. This 
 year it is, " that Miss Charmian who set herself up 
 as a second Hawthorne." When the new house 
 was opened, it might be said that socially Mrs. 
 Henderson had " arrived." Had she ? When one 
 enters on the path of worldliness is there any rest- 
 ing-place? Is not eternal vigilance the price of 
 position ? 
 
 Henderson was apparently on good terms with 
 the world. Many envied him, many paid him the 
 sincerest flattery, that of imitation. He was a king 
 in the street, great enterprises sought his aid, all 
 the charities knocked at his door, his word could 
 organize a syndicate or a trust, his nod could 
 smash a " corner." There were fabulous stories 
 about his wealth, about his luck. This also was 
 Margaret's world. Her ambition expanded in it 
 with his. The things he set his heart on she cov- 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 379 
 
 eted. Alas ! there is always another round to the 
 ladder. 
 
 Seeing the means by which he gained his ends, 
 and the public condonation of them, would not his 
 cynicism harden into utter unbelief in general virt- 
 ue and goodness ? I don't know that Henderson 
 changed much, accented as his grasping selfishness 
 was on occasion ; prosperity had not impaired that 
 indifferent good-fellowship and toleration which 
 had early gained him popularity. His presence 
 was nowhere a rebuke to whatever was going 
 on. He was always accessible, often jocular. The 
 younger members in the club said Henderson was 
 a devilish good fellow, whatever people said. The 
 President of the United States used to send for 
 him and consult him, because he wanted no office ; 
 he knew men, and it was a relief to talk with a lib- 
 eral rich man of so much honJmnie who wanted 
 nothing. 
 
 And Margaret, what view of the world did all 
 this give her ? Did she come in contact with any 
 one who had not his price, who was not going or 
 wanting to go in the general current? Was it 
 not natural that she should take Henderson's view ? 
 Dear me, I am not preaching about her. We did 
 not see much of her in those days, and for one or 
 two years of what I suppose was her greatest en- 
 joyment of her social triumphs. So far as we heard, 
 she was liked, admired, followed, envied. It could 
 
380 A Little Jowrney in the World. 
 
 not be otherwise, for she did not lose her beauty 
 nor her charm, and she tried to please. Once "when 
 I saw her in the city and we f eU into talk — and the 
 talk was gay enough and unconstrained — I was 
 struck with a certain hardness of tone, a little bit- 
 terness quite unlike her old self. It is a very hard 
 thing to say, and I did not say it even to my wife, 
 but I had a painful impression that she was valuing 
 people by the money they had, by the social posi- 
 tion they had attained. 
 
 "Was she content in that great world in which 
 she moved ? I had heard stories of slights, of stabs, 
 of rebuffSj of spiteful remarks. Had she not come 
 to know how success even in social life is sometimes 
 attained — the meannesses, the jealousies, the cring- 
 ing? Even with all her money at command, did 
 she not know that her position was at the price of in- 
 cessant effort ? Because she had taken a bold step 
 to-day, she must take a bolder one to-morrow — 
 more display, more servants, some new invention 
 of luxury and extravagance. And seeing, as I say, 
 the inside of this life and what it required, and 
 how triumphs and notoriety were gained, was it a 
 wonder that she gradually became in her gayety 
 cynical, in her judgments bitter ? 
 
 I am not criticising her. "What are we, who 
 have had no opportunities, to sit in judgment on 
 her ! I beheve that it is' true that it was at her 
 soHoitation that Henderson at last did endow a 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 381 
 
 university in the South-west. I know that her name 
 was on all the leading charities of the city. I know 
 that of all the patronesses of the charity ball her 
 costume was the most exquisite, and her liberal- 
 ity was most spoken of. I know that in the most 
 fashionable house of worship (the newspapers call 
 it that) she was a constant attendant ; that in her 
 modest garb she never missed a Lenten service ; 
 and we heard that she performed a novena during 
 this penitential season. 
 
 Why protract the story of how Margaret was 
 lost to us? Could this interest any but us — we who 
 felt the loss because we stUl loved her ? And why 
 should we presume to set up our standard of what 
 is valuable in life, of what is a successful career ? 
 She had not become what we hoped, and little by 
 little all the pleasure of intercourse on both sides, I 
 dare say, disappeared. Could we say that life, after 
 all, had not given her what she most desired ? Eath- 
 er than write on in this strain about her, I would 
 like to read her story as it appeared to the com- 
 panions whose pleasures were her pleasures, whose 
 successes were her successes — her story written by 
 one who appreciated her worldly advantages, and 
 saw all the delight there was in this attractive 
 worldliness. 
 
 What comfort there was in it we had in knowing 
 that she was a favorite in the society of which we 
 read such glowing descriptions, and that no one 
 
382 A Little Jov/rney in the World. 
 
 else bore its honors more winningly. It was not 
 an easy life, with aH its exactions and incessant 
 movement. It demanded more physical strength 
 than most women possess, and we were not sur- 
 prised to hear from time to time that she was deli- 
 cate, and that she went through her season with 
 feverish excitement. But she chose it ; it had be- 
 come necessary to her. Can women stop in such 
 a career, even if they wish to stop ? 
 
 Yes, she chose it. I, for one, never grudged her 
 any pleasure she had in life, and I do not know but 
 she was as happy as it is possible for human being 
 to be in a full experiment of worldliness. "Who 
 is the judge ? But we, I say, who loved her, and 
 knew so well the noble possibilities of her royal 
 nature under circumstances favorable to its devel- 
 opment, felt more and more her departure from 
 her own ideals. Her life in its spreading prosper- 
 ity seemed more and more shallow. I do not say 
 she was heartless, I do not say she was uncharita- 
 ble, I do not say that in all the externals of world- 
 ly and religious observance she was wanting ; I do 
 not say that the more she was assimilated to the 
 serenely worldly nature of her husband she did not 
 love him, or that she was unlovely in the worldli- 
 ness that ingulfed her and bore her onward. I do 
 not know that there is anything singular in her 
 history. But the pain of it to us was in the cer- 
 tainty — and it seemed so near — that in the decay 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 383 
 
 of her higher life, in the hardening process of a 
 material existence, in the transfer of all her inter- 
 ests to the trivial and sensuous gratifications — time, 
 mind, heart, ambition, all fixed on them — we should 
 never regain our Margaret. "What I saw in a vision 
 of her future was a dead soul — a beautiful woman 
 in all the success of envied prosperity, with a dead 
 soul. 
 
XXII. 
 
 It is difficult not to convey a false impression of 
 Margaret at this time. Habits, manners, outward 
 conduct — nay, the superficial kindliness in human 
 intercourse, the exterior graceful quahties, may all 
 remain when the character has subtly changed, 
 when the real aims have changed, when the ideals 
 are lowered. The fair exterior may be only a shell. 
 I can imagine the heart retaining much tender- 
 ness and sympathy with suffering when the soul 
 itself has ceased to struggle for the higher life, 
 when the mind has lost, in regard to hfe, the final 
 discrimination of what is right and wrong. 
 
 Perhaps it is fairer to Margaret to consider the 
 general opinion of the world regarding her. No 
 doubt, if we had now known her for the first time, 
 we should have admired her exceedingly, and prob- 
 ably have accounted her thrice happy in filling so 
 well her brilliant position. That her loss of inter- 
 est in things intellectual, in a wide range of topics 
 of human welfare, which is in the individual soul a 
 sign of warmth and growth, made her less compan- 
 ionable to some is true, but her very absorption in 
 the life of her world made her much more attract- 
 
A Idttle Journey in the World. 385 
 
 ive to others. I well remember a dinner one day 
 at the Hendersons', when Mr. Morgan and I hap- 
 pened to be in town, and the gay chat and persiflage 
 of the society people there assembled. Margaret 
 shone in it. The light and daring touch of her 
 raillery Carmen herself might have envied, and the 
 spirit in which she handled the trifles and personal 
 gossip tossed to the surface, like the bubbles on the 
 champagne. 
 
 It was such a pretty picture — the noble dining- 
 room, the table sparkling with glass and silver and 
 glowing with masses of choicest flowers from the 
 conservatory, the animated convives, and Margaret 
 presiding, radiant in a costume of white and gold. 
 
 "After all," Morgan was saying, apropos of the 
 position of women, " men get mighty little out of 
 it in the modern arrangement." 
 
 "I've always said, Mr. Morgan," Margaret re- 
 torted, " that you came into the world a couple of 
 centuries too late ; you ought to have been here in 
 the squaw age." 
 
 "Well, men were of some account then. I ap- 
 peal to Henderson," Morgan persisted, " if he gets 
 more than his board and clothes." 
 
 " Oh, my husband has to make his way ; he's no 
 time for idling and philosophizing round." 
 
 " I should think not. Come, Henderson, speak 
 up ; what do you get out of it ?" 
 
 " Oh," said Henderson, glancing at his wife with 
 25 
 
386 A Little Jowmey in the World. 
 
 an amused expression, " I'm doing very well. I'm 
 very well taken care of, but I often wonder what 
 the fellows did when polygamy was the fashion." 
 
 "Polygamy, indeed!" cried Margaret. " So men 
 only dropped the e pluribus unum method on ac- 
 count of the expense ?" 
 
 " Not at all," rephed Henderson. " "Women are 
 so much better now than formerly that one wife is 
 quite enough." 
 
 " You have got him well in hand, Mrs. Hender- 
 son, but — " Morgan began. 
 
 " But," continued Margaret for him, " you think 
 as things are going that polyandry will have to 
 come in fashion — a woman will need more than one 
 husband to support her ?" 
 
 " And I was born too soon," murmured Carmen. 
 
 "Yes, dear, you'll have to be born again. But, 
 Mr. Morgan, you don't seem to understand what 
 civilization is." 
 
 " I'm beginning to. I've been thinking — this is 
 entirely impersonal — that it costs more to keep 
 one fine lady going than it does a college. Just 
 reckon it up. (Margaret was watching him with 
 sparkling eyes.) The palace in town is for her, the 
 house in the mountains, the house by the sea, are 
 for her, the army of servants is for her, the horses 
 and carriages for aU weathers are for her, the opera 
 box is for her, and then the wardrobe — why, half 
 Paris lives on what women wear. I say nothing 
 
A lAttle Journey in the World. 387 
 
 of what would become of the medical profession 
 but for her." 
 
 " Have you done ?" asked Margaret. 
 
 " 1S.0, but I'm taking- breath." 
 
 "Well, why shouldn't we support the working- 
 ing-people of Paris and elsewhere ? Do you want 
 us to make our own clothes and starve the sewing- 
 women % Suppose there weren't any balls and fine 
 dresses and what you call luxury. What would 
 the poor do without the rich? Isn't it the highest 
 charity to give them work ? Even with it they are 
 ungrateful enough." 
 
 " That is too deep for me," said Morgan, evasive- 
 ly. " I suppose they ought to be contented to see 
 us enjoying ourselves. It's all in the way of civili- 
 zation, I dare say." 
 
 " It's just as I thought," said Margaret, more 
 lightly. " You haven't an inkling of what civiliza- 
 tion is. See that flower before you. It is the 
 most exquisite thing in this room. See the refine- 
 ment of its color and form. That was cultivated. 
 The plant came from South America. I don't know 
 what expense the gardener has been to about it, 
 what material and care have been necessary to 
 bring it to perfection. You may take it to Mrs. 
 Morgan as an object-lesson. It is a thing of beau- 
 ty. You cannot put any of your mercantile value 
 on it. Well, that is woman, the consummate flow- 
 er of civilization. That is what civilization is for." 
 
388 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 " I'm sorry for you, old fellow," said Henderson. 
 
 " I'm sorry for myself," Carmen said, demurely. 
 
 " I admit all that," Morgan replied. " Take Mr. 
 Henderson as a gardener, then." 
 
 " Suppose you take somebody else, and let my 
 husband eat his dinner." 
 
 " Oh, I don't mind preaching ; I've got used to 
 being made to point a moral." 
 
 " But he wiU go on next about the luxury of the 
 age, and the extravagance of women, and goodness 
 knows ^vhat," said Margaret. 
 
 " No, I'm talking about men," Morgan continued. 
 " Consider Henderson — it's entirely impersonal— as 
 a gardener. What does he get out of his occupa- 
 tion? He can look at the jBLower. Perhaps that 
 is enough. He gets a good dinner when he has 
 time for it, an hour at his club now and then, oc- 
 casionally an evening or half a day off at home, a 
 decent wardrobe — " 
 
 " Fifty-two suits," interposed Margaret. 
 
 " — His own brougham — " 
 
 " And a four-in-hand," added Murgaret. 
 
 " — A pass on the elevated road — " 
 
 " And a steam-yacht." 
 
 " Which he never gets time to saU. in ; practically 
 all the time on the road, or besieged by a throng 
 in his office, hustled about from morning till night, 
 begged of, interviewed, a telegraphirs despatch ev- 
 ery five minutes, and — " 
 
A Little Journey in tjie World. 389 
 
 " And me !" cried Margaret, rising. The guests 
 all clapped their hands. 
 
 The Hendersons liked to have thfeir house full, 
 something going on — dinners, musicals, readings, 
 little comedies in the theatre ; there was continual 
 coming and going, calling, dropping in for a cup of 
 tea, late suppers after the opera ; the young fellows 
 of town found no place so agreeable for a half-hour 
 after business as Mrs. Henderson's reception-room. 
 I fancied that life would be duU and hang heav- 
 ily, especially for Margaret, without this perpetual 
 movement and excitement. Henderson, who cer- 
 tainly had excitement enough without seeking it 
 at home, was pleased that his wife should be a 
 leader in society, as he was in the great enterprises 
 in which his fortune waxed to enormous propor- 
 tions. About what we call the home life I do not 
 know. Necessarily, as heretofore, Henderson was 
 often absent, and whether Margaret accompanied 
 him or not, a certain pace of life had to be kept 
 up. 
 
 I suppose there is no delusion more general than 
 that of retiring upon a fortune — as if, when gained, 
 a fortune would let a person retire, or, still more 
 improbable, as if it ever were reaUy attained. It 
 is not at all probable that Henderson had set any 
 limit to that he desired ; the wildest speculations 
 about its amount would no doubt fall short of sat- 
 isfying the love of power which he expected to 
 
390 A Little Journey in the World. 
 
 gratify in immeasurably increasing it. Does not 
 history teach us that to be a great general, or poet, 
 or philanthropist, is not more certain to preserve 
 one's name than to be the richest man, the Croesus, 
 in his age? I could imagine Margaret having a 
 certain growing pride in this distinction, and a 
 glovring ambition to be socially what her husband 
 was financially. 
 
 Heaven often plans more mercifully for us than 
 we plan for ourselves. Had not the Hebrew 
 prophets a vision of the punishment by prosperity? 
 Perhaps it apphed to an old age, gratified to the 
 end by possession of everything that selfishness 
 covets, and hardened into absolute worldliness. I 
 knew once an old lady whose position and wealth 
 had always made her envied, and presumably 
 happy, who was absolutely to be pitied for a soul 
 empty of all noble feeling. 
 
 The sun still shone on Margaret, and life yielded 
 to her its specious sweets. She was still young. 
 If in her great house, in her dazzling career, in the 
 whirl of resplendent prosperity, she had hours of 
 unsatisfied yearning for something unattainable in 
 this direction, the world would not have guessed 
 it. "Whenever we heard of her she was the centre 
 and star of whatever for the moment excited the 
 world of fashion. It was indeed, at last, in the 
 zenith of her gay existence that I became aware of 
 a certain feminine anxiety about her in our neigh- 
 
A Little Journey in the World. 391 
 
 borliood. She had been, years before, very ill in 
 Paris, and the apptehensions for her safety now 
 were based upon the recollection of her peril then. 
 The days came when the tender-hearted Miss 
 Forsythe went about the house restless, impatient, 
 tearful, waiting for a summons that was sure to 
 come when she was needed. She thought only of 
 her child, as she called her, and aU the tenderness 
 of her nature was stirred — these years of cloud 
 and separation and pain were as they had not 
 been. Little Margaret had promised to send for 
 her. She would not obtrude before she was want- 
 ed, but Margaret was certain to send. And she was 
 ready for departure the instant the despatch came 
 from Henderson — "Margaret wants you to come 
 at once." I went with her. 
 
 In calamity, trouble, sorrow, it is wonderful how 
 the ties of blood assert themselves. In this hour I 
 am sure that Margaret longed for no one more 
 than her dear aunt, in whose arms, as a child, she 
 had so often forgotten her griefs. She had been 
 able to live without her — nay, for a long time her 
 presence had been something of a restraint and a 
 rebuke, and her feelings had hardened towards her. 
 "Why is it that the heart hardens in prosperity ? 
 
 When we arrived Margaret was very iU. The 
 house itself had a seriou? air: it was no longer 
 the palace of festivity and gayety, precautions 
 had been taken to secure quiet, the pavement 
 
392 A lAttle Journey in the World. 
 
 was littered, and within the hushed movements 
 and the sombre looks spoke of apprehension and 
 the absence of the spirit that had been the life and 
 light of the house. Our arrival seemed to be a 
 relief to Henderson. Little was said. I had never 
 before seen him nervous, never before so restless 
 and anxious, probably never before in all his career 
 had he been unnerved with a sense of his own 
 helplessness. 
 
 " She has been asking for you this moment," he 
 said, as he accompanied Miss Forsythe to Mar- 
 garet's apartment. 
 
 "Dear, dear aunt, I knew you would come — I 
 love you so ;" she had tried to raise herself a little 
 in her bed, and was sobbing like a child in her 
 aunt's arms. 
 
 " You must have courage, Margaret ; it will all 
 be Well." 
 
 " Yes, but I'm so discouraged ; I'm so tired." 
 
 The vigil began. The nurses were in waiting. 
 The family physician would not leave the house. 
 He was a man of great repute in his profession. 
 Dr. Seftel's name was well known to me, but I had 
 never met him before; a man past middle life, 
 smooth shaven, thin iron-gray hair, grave, usually 
 taciturn, deliberate in all his movements, as if every 
 gesture were important, and significant, but with a 
 kindly face. Knowing that every moment of his 
 waking life was golden, I could not but be im- 
 
A Little Jov/rney in the World. 393 
 
 pressed with the power that could command his 
 exclusive service for an indefinite time. When he 
 came down, we talked together in Henderson's 
 room. 
 
 " It is a question of endurance, of constitution," 
 he said ; " many weak women have this quality of 
 persistence ; many strong women go to pieces at 
 once ; we know little about it. Mrs. Henderson " — ■ 
 glancing about him — " has everything to Uve for ; 
 that's in her favor. I suppose there are not two 
 other men in the country whose fortune equals 
 Henderson's." 
 
 I do not know how it was, probably the patient 
 was not forgotten, but in a moment the grave doc- 
 tor was asking me if I had seen the last bulletin 
 about the yacht regatta. He took the keenest in- 
 terest in the contest, and described to me the build 
 and sailing qualities of the different yachts entered, 
 and expressed his opinion as to which would win, 
 and why. From this he passed to the city govern- 
 ment and the recent election — like a true New 
 Yorker, his chief interest centred in the city poh- 
 tics and not in the national elections. "Without the 
 least unbending from his dignity, he told me many 
 anecdotes about city politicians, which would have 
 been amusing if I had not been anxious about other 
 things. 
 
 The afternoon passed, and the night, and the 
 day, I cannot tell how. But at evening I knew by 
 
394r A Little Journey m the Worlds 
 
 the movements in the house that the crisis had 
 come. I was waiting in Henderson's hbrary. An 
 hour passed, when Henderson came hurrying in, 
 pale, excited, but joyous. 
 
 " Thank God," he cried, " it is a boy !" 
 
 "And Margaret?" I gasped. 
 
 " Is doing very well !" He toviched a bell, and 
 gave an order to the servant. " "We will drink to 
 the dear girl and to the heir of the house." 
 
 He was in great spirits. The doctor joined us, 
 but I noticed that he was anxious, and he did not 
 stay long. Henderson was in and out, talking, ex- 
 cited, restless. But everything was going very 
 well, he thought: At last, as we sat talking, a serv- 
 ant appeared at the door, with a frightened look. 
 
 "The baby, sir!" 
 
 "What?" 
 
 Alas ! there had been an heir of the house of 
 Henderson for just two hours ; and Margaret was 
 not sustaining herself. 
 
 Why go on ? Henderson was beside himself ; 
 stricken with grief, enraged, I beheve, as well, at 
 the thought of his own impotence. Messengers 
 were despatched, a consultation was called. The 
 best skill of the city, at any cost, was at Margaret's 
 bedside. Was there anything, then, that money 
 could not do ? How weak we are ! 
 
 The next day the patient was no better, she was 
 evidently sinking. The news went swiftly round 
 
-f.j. A LitUe Jowrney in the World. 395 
 
 the city. It needed a servant constantly at the 
 door to answer the stream of sympathetic inquirers. 
 Eeporters were watching the closed house from the 
 opposite pavement. I undertook to satisfy some 
 of them who gained the steps and came forward, 
 civil enough, and note-books in hand, when the door 
 was opened. This intrusion of curiosity seemed so 
 dreadful. 
 
 The great house was silent. How vain and 
 empty and pitiful it all seemed as I wandered alone 
 through the gorgeous apartments ! What a mock- 
 ery it all was of the tragedy impending above- 
 stairs — the approach on list-shod feet of the great 
 enemy! Let us not be unjust. He would have 
 come just the same if his prey had lain in a farm- 
 house among the hills, or in a tenement-house in C 
 Street. 
 
 A day and a night, and another day — and then ! 
 It was Miss Forsythe who came down to me, with 
 strained eyes and awe in her face. It needed no 
 words. She put her face upon my shoulder, and 
 sobbed as if her heart were broken. 
 
 I could not stay in the house. I went out into 
 the streets, the streets brilliant in the sun of an 
 autumn day, into the town, gay, bustling, crowded, 
 pulsing with vigorous life. How blue the sky was ! 
 The sparrows twittered in Madison Square, the 
 idlers sat in the sun, the children chased their 
 hoops about the fountain. 
 
896 A Little Jov/rney in the World. 
 
 I wandered into the club. The news had preced- 
 ed me there. More than one member in the read- 
 ing-room grasped my hand, with just a word of 
 sympathy. Two young fellows, whom I had last 
 seen at the Henderson dinner, were seated at a 
 small table. 
 
 " It's rough. Jack " — the speaker paused, with a 
 
 match in his hand — "it's rough. I'll be if she 
 
 was not the finest woman I ever knew#" 
 
 My wife and I were sitting in the orchestra stalls 
 of the Metropolitan. The opera was Siegfried. At 
 the close of the first act, as we turned to the house, 
 we saw Carmen enter a box, radiant, in white. 
 Henderson followed, and took a seat a little in 
 shadow behind her. There were others in the box. 
 There was a little movement and flutter as they 
 came in and glasses were turned that way. 
 
 " Married, and it is only two years," I said. 
 
 " It is only a year and eight months," my wife 
 replied. 
 
 And the world goes on as cheerfully and pros- 
 perously as ever. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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