the fortunes of oliver horn-第53部分

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n　studying　it　all　out　in　these　coals。　I　know　all　about　itit　is　about　the　mountain　girl；　thiswhat　do　you　call　her？〃

〃Miss　Grant。〃

〃Nonsense！　What　do　YOU　call　her？〃

〃Madge。〃

〃Ah；　that's　something　like　it。　And　you　love　her？〃

〃Yes。〃　（Pianissimo。）

〃And　she　loves　you？〃

〃YES。〃　（Forte。）

〃And　you　have　told　her　so？〃

〃YES！〃　（Fortissimo。）

〃Whew！〃　Miss　Clendenning　caught　her　breath　and　gave　a　little　gasp。　〃Well；　upon　my　word！　You　don't　seem　to　have　lost　any　time；　my　young　Romeo。　What　does　her　father　say？〃

〃He　doesn't　know　anything　about　it。〃

〃Does　anybody　except　you　two　babes　in　the　wood？〃

〃Yes；　her　mother。〃

〃And　yours？　You　told　her　last　night。　I　knew　you　would。〃

〃Not　everything；　but　she　is　all　upset。〃

〃Of　course　she　is。　So　am　I。　Now　tell　meis　she　a　LADY？〃

〃She　is　the　dearest；　sweetest　girl　you〃

〃Come　now；　come　now；　answer　me。　They　are　all　the　dearest　and　sweetest　things　in　the　world。　What　I　want　to　know　is；　is　she　a　lady？〃

〃Yes。〃

〃True　now；　Olliehonest？〃

〃Yes；　in　every　sense　of　the　word。　A　woman　you　would　love　and　be　proud　of　the　moment　you　saw　her。〃

Miss　Clendenning　took　his　face　in　her　hands　and　looked　down　into　his　eyes。　〃I　believe　you。　Now　what　do　you　want　me　to　do？〃

〃I　want　her　to　come　down　here　so　everybody　can　see　her。　If　I　had　a　sister　she　could　invite　her；　and　it　would　be　all　right；　and　maybe　then　her　mother　would　let　her　come。〃

〃And　you　want　me　to　play　the　sister　and　have　her　come　here？〃

Oliver's　fingers　closed　tight　over　Miss　Clendenning's　　hand。　〃Oh；　Midget；　if　you　only　would；　that　would　fix　everything。　Mother　would　understand　then　why　I　love　her；　and　Madge　could　go　back　and　tell　her　people　about　us。　Her　father　is　very　bitter　against　everybody　at　the　South。　They　would　feel　differently　if　Madge　could　stay　a　week　with　us。〃

〃Why　won't　her　father　bring　her？〃

〃He　never　leaves　home。　He　would　not　even　take　her　to　the　mountains；　fifteen　miles　away。　She　could　never　paint　as　she　does　if　she　had　relied　upon　him。　Mother　and　Mr。　Grant　are　both　alike　in　their　hatred　of　art　as　a　fitting　profession　for　anybody；　and　I　tell　you　that　they　are　both　wrong。〃

Miss　Clendenning　looked　up　in　surprise。　She　had　never　seen　the　boy　take　a　stand　of　this　kind　against　one　of　his　mother's　opinions。　Oliver　saw　the　expression　　on　the　little　lady's　face　and　kept　on；　his　cheeks　flushed　and　a　set　look　about　his　eyes。

〃Yes；　wrong。　I　have　never　believed　mother　could　be　wrong　in　anything　before；　and　when　she　wanted　me　to　give　up　painting　I　did　so　because　I　thought　she　knew　best。　But　I　know　she's　not　right　about　Madge；　and　if　she　is　wrong　about　her；　how　do　I　know　she　was　not　wrong　about　my　working　with　Mr。　Crocker？〃

Margaret's　words　that　day　in　the　bark　slant　were　now　ringing　in　his　ears。　He　had　never　forgotten　them〃Your　mother　cannot　coddle　you　up　forever。〃

Miss　Clendenning　held　her　peace。　She　was　not　astonished　at　the　revolt　in　the　boy's　mind。　She　had　seen　for　months　past　in　his　letters　that　Oliver's　　individuality　was　asserting　itself。　It　was　the　new　girl　whom　he　was　defendingthe　woman　he　loved。　This　had　given　him　strength。　She　knew　something　of　what　he　felt；　and　she　knew　what　blind　obedience　had　done　for　her。　With　a　half…smothered　sigh；　she　reached　over　Oliver's　head；　dipped　a　quill　pen　in　her　inkstand；　and　at　Oliver's　dictation；　wrote　Margaret's　address。

〃I　will　invite　her　at　once；〃　she　said。

Long　after　Oliver　had　gone　Miss　Clendenning　sat　looking　into　the　fire。　The　palaces　of　rose　and　amber　that　the　busy　fingers　of　the　fire　fairies　had　built　up　in　the　white　heat　of　their　enthusiasm　were　in　ruins。　The　light　had　gone　out。　Only　gray　ashes　remained；　with　here　and　there　a　dead　cinder。

Miss　Clendenning　rose　from　her　chair；　stood　a　moment　in　deep　thought；　and　said；　aloud：

〃If　she　loves　him；　she　shall　have　him。　There　shall　be　no　more　desolate　firesides　if　I　can　help　it。〃


Early　the　next　morning；　she　mailed　by　the　first　post　a　letter　so　dainty　in　form　and　so　delicate　in　color　that　only　a　turtle…dove　should　have　carried　it　to　Brookfleld　Farm；　and　have　dropped　it　into　Margaret's　　hand。　This　billet…doux　began　by　inviting　Miss　Margaret　Grant　of　Brookfield　Farm　to　pass　a　week　with　Miss　Lavinia　Clendenning；　of　Kennedy　Square；　she；　Miss　Lavinia；　desiring　to　know　the　better　one　who　had　so　charmed　and　delighted　〃our　dear　Oliver；〃　　and　ended　with　〃Please　say　to　your　good　mother；　that　I　am　twice　your　age；　and　will　take　as　much　care　of　you　as　if　you　were　my　own　daughter。　I　feel　assured　she　will　waive　all　ceremony　when　she　thinks　of　how　warm　a　greeting　awaits　you。〃

Margaret　looked　at　the　post…mark；　and　then　at　the　little　oval　of　violet　wax　bearing　the　crest　of　the　　Clendenningsgranted　in　the　time　of　Queen　Elizabeth　for　distinguished　services　to　the　Throneand　after　she　had　read　it　to　her　mother；　and　had　shown　the　seal　to　her　father；　who　had　put　on　his　glasses；　scanned　it　closely；　and　tossed　it　back　to　her　with　a　dry　laugh；　and　after　she　had　talked　it　all　over　with　John；　who　said　it　was　certainly　very　kind　of　the　woman；　and　that　Oliver's　people　were　evidently　〃nobs；〃　but；　of　course；　Madge　couldn't　go；　not　knowing　any　of　them；　Margaret　took　a　sheet　of　plain　white　paper　from　her　desk；　thanked　Miss　Clendenning　for　her　kind　thought　of　her；　and　declined　the　honor　in　a　firm；　round　hand。　This　she　closed　with　a　red　wafer；　and　then；　with　a　little　bridling　of　her　head　and　a　determined　look　in　her　face；　she　laid　the　letter　on　the　gate…post；　ready　for　the　early　stage　in　the　morning。

This　missive　was　duly　received　by　Miss　Clendenning；　　and　read　at　once　to　Mrs。　Horn；　who　raised　her　eyebrows　and　pursed　her　lips　in　deep　thought。　After　some　moments　she　looked　over　her　glasses　at　Miss　Lavinia　and　said：

〃I　must　say；　Lavinia；　I　am　very　greatly　astonished。　Won't　come？　She　has　done　perfectly　right。　I　think　all　the　better　of　her　for　it。　Really；　there　may　be　something　in　the　girl　after　all。　Let　me　look　at　her　handwriting　againwrites　like　a　woman　of　some　force。　Won't　come？　What　do　you　think；　Lavinia？〃

〃Merely　a　question　of　grandmothers；　my　dear；　she　seems　to　have　had　one；　too；〃　answered　the　little　old　maid；　with　a　quizzical　smile　in　her　eye；　as　she　folded　the　letter　and　slipped　it　in　her　pocket。




CHAPTER　XVIII

THE　LAST　HOURS　OF　A　CIVILIZATION



Margaret's　decision　saddened　Oliver's　last　days　at　home；　and　he　returned　to　New　York　with　none　of　his　former　buoyancy。　Here　other　troubles　began　to　multiply。　Before　the　autumn　was　gone；　Morton；　Slade　&　Co。；　unable　longer　to　make　headway　against　the　financial　difficulties　that　beset　them；　went　to　the　wall；　involving　many　of　their　fellow…merchants。　Oliver　　lost　his　situation；　in　consequence；　and　was　forced　to　support　himself　during　the　long　dreary　winter　by　making　lithographic　drawings　for　Bianchi；　at　prices　that　barely　paid　his　board。　His　loneliness　in　the　garret　room　became　more　intense；　Fred　being　much　away　and　the　occupants　of　the　other　rooms　being　either　strangers　to　him　or　so　uncongenial　that　he　would　not　make　their　acquaintance。

To　his　own　troubles　were　added　other　anxieties。　The　political　outlook　had　become　even　more　gloomy　than　the　financial。　The　roar　of　Sumter's　guns　had　　reverberated　throughout　the　land；　and　men　of　all　minds　were　holding　their　breath　and　listening；　with　ears　to　the　ground；　for　the　sound　of　the　next　shot。　Even　Margaret's　letters　were　full　of　foreboding。　〃Father　is　more　bitter　against　the　South　than　ever；〃　she　wrote。　〃He　says　if　he　had　ten　sons　each　should　shoulder　a　musket。　We　must　wait；　Ollie　dear。　I　can　only　talk　to　mother　about　you。　Father　won't　listen；　and　I　never　mention　your　name　before　him。　Not　because　it　is　you；　Ollie；　but　because　you　represent　　a　class　whom　he　hates。　Dear　John　would　listen；　but　he　is　still　in　Boston。　Even　his　fellow…classmen　want　to　fight；　he　says。　I　fear　all　this　will　hurt　my　work；　and　keep　me　from　painting。〃

These　letters　of　Margaret's；　sad　as　they　were；　were　his　greatest　and　sometimes　his　only　comfort。　She　knew　his　ups　and　downs　and　they　must　have　no　secrets　from　each　other。　From　his　mother；　however；　he　kept　all　records　of　his　privations　during　these　troublous　months。　Neither　his　father　nor　his　dear　mother　must　deprive　themselves　for　his　benefit。

During　these　dreary　days　he　often　longed　for　Kennedy　　Square　and　for　those　whom　he　loved；　but　it　was　not　until　one　warm　spring　day；　when　the　grass　was　struggling　into　life；　and　the　twigs　on　the　scraggy　trees　in　Union　Square　were　growing　pink　and　green　with　impatient　buds　and　leaves　that　he　had　his　wish。　Then　a　startling　telegram　summoned　him。　It　read　as　follows：

〃Father　ill。　Come　at　once。

〃Mother〃

Instinctively　Oliver　felt　in　his　pockets　for　his　purse。　There　was　just　money　enough　to　take　him　to　Kennedy　Square　and　back。

His　mother　met　him　at　the　door。

〃It　was　only　a　fainting　turn；　my　son；〃　were　her　first　words。　〃I　am　sorry　I　sent　for　you。　Your　father　is　himself　again；　so　Dr。　Wallace　says。　He　has　been　working　too　hard　latelysometimes　far　into　the　night。　I　could　have　stopped　you　from　coming；　but；　somehow；　I　wanted　you〃　and　she　held　him　close　in　her　arms；　and　laid　her　cheek　against　his。　〃I　get　so　lonely；　my　boy；　and　feel　so　helpless　sometimes。〃

The　weak　and　strong　were　changing　places。　She　felt　the　man　in　him　now。

Nathan　was　in