Chapter X: Part 10

In the afternoon, Clover walked to the Park, and entering back of Texas walked down the northern avenue of State buildings. The usual crowd was flocking in and out of Mount Vernon, but she crossed the street to New Jersey's charming home, and entered. It was entertaining a large number of sightseers, note-book in hand, who jotted down their inventories. Clover wished she might look over the shoulder of one woman, with a harassed but determined countenance, whom she met in the cosy west room downstairs. She wondered how this anxious one would be able to transfer to paper the charm of its quiet comfort, with the breezy foliage waving near its half-closed green blinds and casting shadows on the dainty white curtains.

It was all familiar ground to Clover, so she went upstairs and seated herself in a corner of the deep, luxurious sofa which commanded a view, down through the open gallery, of the front door.

People came, looked, commented, passed into the dainty blue chintz bedroom, emerged smiling, and went away.

Many had appeared, climbing the stairway with various degrees of toil, before the figure she awaited came into view. This one sprang up the steps alertly, with a serious expression, which brightened to pleasure at sight of her.

"Have I kept you waiting?" he asked eagerly. "I came around from the Cliff Dwellers by the Intramural road, and we had a stoppage of several minutes. I have been very anxious."

"I am sorry for that," answered Clover, as Page seated himself beside her. "I thought you knew that I am always content in this house. I should move down here and live, if they would let me. I have been fancying that I was holding a reception as the visitors came and went. I wonder if any pilgrim to the Fair has a soul so dead as not to covet this house."

"I didn't know you liked it so much," said Gorham, as though the fact were of serious importance. "Perhaps you would enjoy having tea here."

"Tea in the New Jersey Building? What a pleasure! But why do you tantalize me?"

"I think we can. The lady manager from New Jersey is a near relative of mine. Excuse me a minute and I will try the magic of her name."

Page went downstairs, and in five minutes returned.

"The house is mine, practically," he declared, smiling. "I herewith present it to you."

"How delightful! And the tea?"

"Is near by." Gorham went to one of the locked doors on the east side of the hall and knocked. Presently he ushered Clover into this exclusive nook, and the door closed behind them.

It was an appetizing little supper that was shortly set before them on the daintily clothed round table.

"You have gratified one of my pet ambitions," said Clover. "Now I shall always feel a small proprietorship as well as a great affection for this house. I am really breaking bread at its board."

"You spoil your friends by the pleasure you make it to contribute a little to your happiness," returned Gorham, his eyes resting upon her with the utmost satisfaction.

"This room is as charming as the rest," remarked Clover, looking about at its ruddy decorations; "and the remoteness one feels from everything confusing, or noisy, or soiling, can only be appreciated by those who do not live in the midst of a large, well-kept park. I amused myself while waiting for you by searching for the fewest words that will describe the faces of Fair visitors. I decided upon 'tired' and 'pleased.' Not 'delighted;' they are too weary for that,--but just 'pleased.'"

Page looked away and considered the idea, as Clover had intended he should.

"Do you know Mildred gives us the opportunity to find good places at parade under Mr. Eames' wing?" she suggested after a minute.

"Oh, I am glad to hear that. I don't quite understand what makes the cadets such a fad. No; one can't call it a fad either, for there is no sudden interest in them, they are always lionized. Since they have been here, I notice that people go hours before the time for parade for the sake of securing good places, and then wait patiently; so I have been wondering this afternoon how I could fix it for you to get a view of the ceremonies. It will be very pleasant to have Mr. Eames' assistance."

"Then comes in that awful word again," laughed Clover. "We shall have to hurry a little."

Page sighed unconsciously. "Is this very good tea?" he asked, as they finally rose from the table. "I am not a connoisseur."

"Very nice indeed."

"I thought it must be. I never enjoyed any tea so much in my life."

"Then we are very much obliged to each other, aren't we?" said Clover gayly, and consuming her watch, she reminded her companion again of the hour of the appointment, and they hastened away.

They arrived at the hospital steps just as the others were leaving.

"Oh, you loiterers," was Mildred's greeting.

"Don't you see our breathless condition?" returned Clover. "How can you have the heart to reproach us? How do you do, Mr. Eames? We are very grateful to you. What a hopeless throng that looks like!"

"Let me take some of those camp chairs," said Gorham, suiting the action to the word.

Mr. Eames led his party towards the officers' tents. They had to force their way through serried ranks of gazers, who were held back with difficulty by the blue-coated sentinels from the camp of "regulars" near by. The sentinel saluted Eames as he passed, and the lieutenant stood still and allowed his friends to file before him to the reserved places before the officers' tents. There they found Helen Eames, who welcomed them radiantly, fixing cordial eyes on Jack in a manner not lost upon Mildred. The latter did not enjoy this effusiveness. She did not wish to marry anybody, but at the same time she did not like to have any other girl try to appropriate her especial friends.

However, her attention was soon momentarily distracted by the novel sights before her, and the usual questions began to flow.

Eames was most willing to answer them. Before long the band marched out upon the plain, and the evening's ceremonies had begun. The cadets, a shining assembly, marched forth from the company-streets and fell into line.

The band, playing The Thunderer, marched up and down the plain before the motionless ranks, and one to whom the West Point forms were familiar asked himself if it must not all be a dream. Here were the same camp, the same cadets, the same band; but where were the mountains, the huge old elms, the river?--instead, the Government Building, the Fisheries, the Battle-Ship, and Lake Michigan.

To Mildred the very sight of the band was not thrilling from all it implied, but she soon found herself absorbed in interest and admiration.

Once she turned around to Jack, who stood behind her.

"I think I must go to West Point, after all."

"Indeed, you must. It is perfectly lovely," exclaimed Miss Eames. "There, you see, that is the adjutant now, advancing to the officer-in-charge;" and she proceeded volubly to explain the tactics which followed.

"I think I shall have to know some cadets," remarked Mildred, turning to Eames.

"That will be very easy; and when you know one, you will know all. They can talk only on one subject," was the rather stiff reply.

Mildred was perfectly aware that the young lieutenant admired her. She saw that her proposition was displeasing to him; but what she did not know was that he had not yet recovered from that profound fall which results from exchanging the chevrons of a first-class man for the shoulder-straps of a second lieutenant. That young officer must indeed have a seared conscience who can lay his hand on his heart and declare that he entertains only cordial sentiments for a cadet of the first class when their ways chance to cross.

"You refused to attend the cadet ball with me at the New York Building to-night," added Eames reproachfully.

"Why, of course; in my ignorance. Wasn't it stupid of me? Oh, what are they running for? Isn't that pretty? Wouldn't you like to be a cadet again, Mr. Eames?"

"Heaven forbid!" ejaculated that officer devoutly. "I am waked up by reveille yet. Hope I shall get over it some time."

"Mildred is contracting cadet fever, Mr. Van Tassel," declared Helen, looking up at Jack in a way which Miss Bryant noted resentfully, in spite of her preoccupation.

"I never before noticed how objectionable Helen's ways with men are," she thought. "I know Jack wishes she wouldn't look at him like that."

"I suppose so, Miss Eames," replied Van Tassel. "I am trying to find out what it is that is so fetching about those all-conquering youngsters."

But Jack need not have tried. No male civilian under forty was ever known to discover.

"What is cadet fever?" asked Mildred, "and what is the microbe; a bell-button? I haven't one yet."

The "double-timing" companies had retreated down the streets of camp, and the cheering crowds of spectators quieted. Many of them moved toward the lake shore; for in a short time it had been learned that the cadets would next march to supper preceded by the drum corps; and any ceremony which they performed, no matter how simple, drew a curious throng.

"What is the matter? What are they going to do now?" asked Mildred.

"Going to the Clambake to supper," replied Eames.

"Then I am going to the Clambake to supper," announced Miss Bryant.

"I think you would not enjoy it," said Eames shortly.

"I know I shall," responded Mildred, with her glorious smile.

"I am so sorry I shall have to leave you," remarked Helen. "I have a number of friends among the first class. They were yearlings when I was at the post. I have promised to attend the festivities with one of them to-night. Do come and see me, Mr. Van Tassel," holding out her hand. "Remember you owe me a game of tennis. I assure you, you would not beat all the time. Are you coming with me, Fred?"

"I believe not, unless you want me. If these people are determined to go to the Clambake, I think I shall have to go too; but remember, you are to save a two-step for me to-night."

"_Au revoir_, then;" and Miss Eames, her last glance for Jack, moved away.

"We won't go with Mildred," said Clover, "for we have had tea recently, and aren't hungry yet. You would never guess where, either. Good-by, Mr. Eames. We are all greatly indebted to you."

"Indeed we are," said Gorham, shaking hands cordially with the lieutenant. "That was a most interesting sight. I congratulate you on being one fit to survive that tremendous training. This is the show side, but I know something of the other."

"Where did you have tea; where?" demanded Mildred, smiling into Gorham's serious face. He instantly smiled back. Those cold, abstracted eyes of Page's had learned a new look recently, as though so much sunshine had warmed his heart that there was an overflow.

"It would make you so discontented with the Clambake, dear," suggested Clover with mischievous deprecation.

"Why, I _will_ know."

"The New Jersey house."

"You selfish creatures! Aren't they?" exclaimed Mildred, calling upon Eames and Van Tassel to witness.

"Yes, we are," laughed Gorham, as he and Clover turned away. "We know it."

Mildred, her companions on either side of her, began her walk northward. Eames wished cordially that Jack would remember an engagement. Jack wished sincerely that he knew what Mildred wanted him to do. Unconsciously fulfilling the lieutenant's desire, he spoke:--

"I suppose I really ought to be at home attending to some correspondence I have been putting off, instead of loitering at the Clambake."

Eames answered without giving Mildred time to speak. "I shall be most happy to take Miss Bryant home after her curiosity is satisfied." Van Tassel's jealous ears detected the eagerness in his polite tone.

"But supposing my curiosity is not gratified by the time you are obliged to go and array yourself gorgeously for the evening? No, Jack, I am sorry for you, but Mr. Eames is engaged elsewhere."

"It need not be for some hours yet," protested the lieutenant.

Mildred shook her head firmly. "I couldn't think of allowing you to assume the care of me in addition to all your other responsibilities this evening."

"Very well," said Jack. "When it comes to a matter of letter-writing, my conscience never requires very much soothing."

When they reached the Clambake, two cadets were just issuing therefrom. Their hands went up in an instant salute to Eames, who had for the moment preceded his friends.

"I suppose there is a great deal of eating and running being done to-night," remarked Jack.

"But where are they?" asked Mildred aggrievedly, as they entered the busy, noisy eating-room.

"The cadets mess upstairs," returned Eames, with latent satisfaction. "Did you suppose they fell in here with the general company? You don't know much of military discipline, Miss Bryant."

"Never mind; if they are going to run up and down that staircase all the time, as they are doing now, I shall see a great deal of them."

"There isn't much order to-night," remarked the lieutenant. "The cadets own the Fair for the moment, and permits have been issued _ad libitum_."

But supper had scarcely been brought to the three friends when, with a grand clatter on the bare staircase, the remainder of the corps came hurrying down, walked out the door, and quickly forming in ranks marched back to camp.

"Now, does that pay for mingling in this drove of people and getting half-served?" asked Jack, with disdain.

"Fully," exclaimed Miss Bryant, with enthusiasm. "Without those absurd straps around their faces, one can see what beautiful creatures they are."

"Well, I'm glad," returned Van Tassel shortly.

"I am resigned to your interest in the cadets," said Eames, "if it brings you to West Point, for I am likely to get a detail there next year."

Jack took no part in the animated discussion that followed.

"Don't look bored, Jack," said Mildred at last. "Ask Mr. Eames questions, as I do."

"There isn't any need. You have covered the ground. You are mistaken about my being bored. This is my expression when I am absorbing stimulating information."

"Then he should abstain from stimulants. Don't you think so, Mr. Eames?"

They arose from the table, and going out into the arc-lighted street, walked slowly west.

When they reached Brazil, Mildred declared her desire to go into the building.

"I suppose I ought to leave you," said Eames reluctantly, "but perhaps if you remain in the grounds I may meet you again."

"What is going on?" asked Van Tassel.

"Several things. A procession of illuminated boats in honor of the cadets, a concert by the West Point band outside the Michigan house, illumination of all the State buildings and dancing in many of them, but notably New York, all for the cadets. You will be likely to hear enough of those young men and see enough of them if you remain, Van Tassel."

"Oh, we can't," smiled Mildred demurely, as she gave her hand to the lieutenant. "We have important letters to write."

The "we," even in jest, was music to Jack. He turned to her as they ascended Brazil's steps. "Well, are you ready to come back to civil life?"

"Haven't I been civil all the time? And you," reproachfully, "were going to leave me."

"Only out of regard to Eames."

"I think you might have more regard for me than for him."

"I have. I thought you knew it."

Mildred did not answer. They had reached the large salon which was the second floor of Brazil's home, and from thence ascended the spiral iron staircase leading to the roof. Mounting another short flight of steps, they entered one of the four towers, and standing between its white pillars looked down on the enchanting vision of early evening in the White City,--the sum of imaginable loveliness.

The imposing facades of its palaces were now pure but not dazzling; the green trees and flowering shrubs of Wooded Island were hung with thousands of fairy lights; the long, bridge-spanned canals wound away into distant mysterious vistas, where tower on tower still rose far as the eye could discern; and, queen above all, stood the flamy curves of the coronet of Administration.

The columns of the Art Palace were mirrored in the lagoon, and near and far upon the water's breast lay little boats, gay with lights, in readiness for the procession soon to take place; their chains of colored globes faithfully reflected in the depths below.

Distant bells were chiming; from one of the boats the tinkling melody of a mandolin floated up to the watchers in the lofty tower; all else was still, as though the peerless scene were indeed something supernatural, evoked for a moment's breathless rapture, and fated to disappear forever.

Neither Mildred nor her companion spoke for a time.

"Once you gave me your hand when we lived such an experience as this together," said Jack at last, withdrawing his gaze and looking at Mildred in the twilight.

She hesitated, then extended her hand frankly. "So I will again," she answered, with an effort at her old air of good-comradeship. "I am a great believer in handshaking."

Van Tassel only looked at her without accepting the favor, and shook his head slowly. "No," he said, as though to himself, "I cannot be satisfied with it."

Mildred blushed as her hand dropped. "You said," she returned low and swiftly, "that everything should be as it was before."

"Yes, I did, because I was inexperienced. I have never been in love with any one else, and I didn't know how it was going to be. I have become better acquainted with myself since that night and can speak with more intelligence. I find myself hoping, even though I say over every day that there cannot be the slightest hope for me, because you know me well, and by this time the truth would be evident to you. If it were in my favor you would tell me, wouldn't you?"

The girl gave him one fearful glance, and looked away.

"You would, of course?" he said, with sudden excitement, seizing the hand he had refused. "Mildred, I love you! I love you! I do not say it to you every hour, but I think it with every breath. You would not make me wait one moment if"--

"Oh, how can you, Jack? Why must you love a girl so unworthy?" She shrank closer to the railing. "I told you,--I tried to warn you,--I told you that I do not love anybody but Mildred Bryant."

Before she ceased speaking, Van Tassel had released her and recovered himself.

"And the Peristyle," he added steadily, "you are forgetting that."

She did not smile, and her lips quivered.

"So long as my only rivals are your sweet self and the Indians, Helmsmen, _et. al._, who view the country from the top of the Peristyle, I cannot despair. Perhaps I ought to, dear, but I can't."

Mildred wondered if her companion were really so pale as the shadows made him appear.

"Hope springs eternal in the human breast, and I am going to hope until you announce your engagement to me. Then, until I receive your wedding cards, I shall look to see you find that engagement a mistake. And if you are married," Jack paused; "I don't know. My mind turns blank when it occurs to me that you might marry another man."

"I am not worth it. I am not worth it," repeated the girl.

"Have I made you unhappy? Shall I go away? Will my presence be a burden to you now?"

"No." Mildred looked at him piteously. "I think I have a stone in here instead of a heart," she said, pressing her side, "but stay with me and--and keep the others away. I don't need to tell you how much I like you, Jack. If only it were safe to say what you want me to when I only like you, and value you, and respect you more than any other man"-- She paused, unable to proceed.

He turned to her, tender consideration in his tone.

"That is a great deal, Mildred. I must try not to forfeit it."

*CHAPTER XXV.*

*IN THE PERISTYLE.*

The next morning, before seven o'clock, Miss Berry, while busy arranging matters in the dining-room preparatory to breakfast, was summoned by a maid to the back door with the word that a gentleman wished to see her.

To her great surprise, it was Gorham Page who stood waiting on the path.

"Well, well, Mr. Gorham, ain't the days long enough for you?" she asked, smiling, as she came out of the door. "This is new manners for you. Go 'way, Blitzen. Look out, Mr. Gorham, his paws must be wet."

"I didn't want to disturb the house by ringing the bell," explained Page, "and I knew you would be likely to be about by this time. A very unfortunate thing has occurred;" he looked annoyed as he spoke. "I have received a sudden call to St. Louis by a client I cannot neglect, and the business requires that I should spend the whole day in town before I go. Mrs. Van Tassel has promised to go down to the Fair with me this morning on the Whaleback. I want you to explain to her how seriously I regret breaking the engagement. I am really very much put out by the necessity."

Miss Lovina smiled as she broke a twig from the maple under which they were standing. "Ain't you comin' back at all?" she asked.

"Why, certainly I am coming back," replied the other severely.

"Oh," remarked Miss Berry innocently. "I thought perhaps you wanted me to say good-by to 'em for you."

"No, indeed; nothing of that kind. I may be detained a week or ten days, but I wanted Mrs. Van Tassel to understand that no trivial circumstance would deter me from taking the boat trip with her and Miss Bryant as we planned. I would--I would give a great deal not to be obliged to leave."

"Mrs. Van Tassel won't lay it up against you," remarked Miss Berry.

"No, I dare say not," said Page abstractedly. "I mustn't wait," he exclaimed, after a moment's reverie. "Tell her, Aunt Love, how sorry I am; put it strong. I thought I would see you instead of leaving a note, for writing is so formal; and oh, by the way, tell her if she forgives me and understands the situation, how glad it would make me to receive a word from her to that effect. This is my address," thrusting a card into Miss Berry's hand.

"What's the use?" asked Miss Lovina, her shoulders shaking in a laugh. "You know you're always forgettin' girls. If you should get a letter signed Mrs. Van Tassel, you'd scratch your head and say 'Van Tassel? Van Tassel? Where have I heard that name before?'"

"This is no time to joke," he returned hurriedly. "I trust you to deliver my messages faithfully. Don't make light of the matter. Good-by;" and with a hasty bow Page moved briskly away.

Miss Berry looked after his departing figure with some exasperation.

"I hope I do him an injustice," she murmured, "but it's my opinion he hasn't found out yet that he's lovin' a woman instead o' worshipin' a saint. I don't want to be profane, but I must say I'm reminded of Ann Getchell's brother. He used to say that he liked a fool, but a darned fool he never could stand."

Clover and Miss Berry sometimes began breakfast before the other and sleepier members of the family appeared on the scene. This was one of the mornings; and while Clover poured the coffee, Aunt Love embraced her opportunity.

"You can't guess who's been here already," she began.

"No; tell me. Don't make me guess. The day is too new."

"Now you look just fresh and bright enough to guess anything." Miss Berry gazed affectionately at her as she spoke.

"I saw Mr. Page going down the street," said Clover, as she set a steaming cup on the waitress' tray. "Could it have been he?"

"Yes; but you'd never 'a' guessed him, would you? He come over to get me to tell you that he's called away on important business, and regrets very much breakin' his engagement with you this mornin' about goin' on the Christopher Columbus."

Clover's transparent skin flushed, but she looked coolly into her informant's eyes. "He does not see us again, then?"

"Law yes, in a few days he does"--

"Lena," said Clover to the maid, "please tell Katie to keep the other things hot for a while. Miss Bryant and Mr. Van Tassel are both a little late. I will ring when I want you."

The moment the door had closed behind the girl, Clover's face changed. "Tell me all about it," she said.

"Ain't it a pity that gump can't see her this minute?" thought Aunt Love. "Even if he's a darned one, I guess he'd get a glimmer o' sense."

"Why, he was the most distressed bein' you'd want to look at," she returned, "just 'cause he couldn't stay and go with you on that boat. You'd think he'd never seen a sign o' the Fair,--not that he said a word about that, he was all taken up with the disappointment o' not goin' with you." Aunt Love was determined to make the most of Gorham's behest to "put it strong."

Clover's face had quieted, and she was occupied in stirring her coffee.

"I told him I guessed you wouldn't be overly hard on him, and he told me to ask you, pervided you did forgive him, to write and tell him so to this address."

Clover looked up quickly as she accepted the card.

"How long will he be gone?"

"A week or ten days, I think he said. Law, if I've forgotten anything he told me, I shall need the prayers o' the con'regation. Strange," continued Miss Berry slyly, "that I haven't ever seen anything so severe about you that Mr. Gorham should look all beside himself at breakin' a light, triflin' promise to you through no fault or his."

"I will write in three or four days," said Clover musingly. "That will divide the time." Then she looked up, and met Aunt Love's eyes fixed on her with an expression that made her glance away.

"He's a none-such," said Miss Berry. "I guess you better let him off easy, Mrs. Van Tassel."

"Oh yes," returned Clover with some confusion. "I will ring for the breakfast now, Aunt Love. We will not wait any longer."

Gorham Page came home to his hotel in St. Louis a few days afterward, tired and enervated by the excessive heat, and requiring to remember all his philosophy not to anathematize the fate which had snatched him from the feast spread upon the shores of Lake Michigan. A little later in the season, during the Congress of Religions, the gentle Dharmapala was riding upon the lagoon one evening, where his snowy silken robes seemed more in place than the close-fitting black of his companions. Looking about him in the waning light where all was melody, harmony, and beauty, he said:--

"All the joys of heaven are in Chicago."

This sentiment of the lovable Singhalese Page would have echoed, had the anachronism been possible. A sort of chronic yearning and dissatisfaction possessed him, and the heat in St. Louis being a tangible discomfort, he dwelt to himself upon the superior vitality in the air of the lake region, and laid his discomfort at the door of the weather. It was his custom, as soon as he entered the hotel, to inquire for letters; and to-day he received one in a feminine handwriting.

The clerk noticed the expression of his face as the missive was handed him.

"That fellow can't sing 'The letter I looked for never came,'" was his comment.

Gorham's sensations, as in his room he opened the square envelope with religious care, were of a chaotic nature, which required analysis. He even went so far as to hold the folded sheet a moment and look at the opposite wall with an effort at introspection; but the insistent desire to possess himself of those written words engulfed all other considerations.

The letter was gentle and friendly like the writer herself. It compassionated him on the fact which Chicago papers reported, of a hot wave in St. Louis; and described her sight of a great Maharajah, the nabob then visiting the Fair, who, resplendent in cloth-of-gold robes and pale green turban, passed in state with his suite about the grounds. Jack had surveyed him, and with democratic audacity dubbed His Highness "that chocolate duffer."

The little letter closed with these words:--

"I am alone in the house; even the servants are away. It is rather a desolate sensation; and yet some people profess to feel more keenly the loneliness of being in a crowd of strangers, than that of being entirely by themselves. The former is your sort of loneliness at present. I wonder if you dislike it? I wonder--you always seem so sufficient unto yourself, so much more a man of intellect than of heart--I wonder if you ever feel, as I do more and more strongly every day, our dependence on each other?"

There was nothing more save the conventional ending. Page scarcely glanced at the signature. Something seemed to mount to his head, as his eyes dwelt fascinated upon the last sentence recorded. The sweetness of his instant interpretation of it so possessed and intoxicated him that no other thought could obtain entrance. All the processes of his system seemed arrested for one overwhelming moment, then the pulses, reacting, sent the blood boiling through his veins.

Mechanically he rose, and going to the bureau began throwing articles of clothing into an open valise near by.

Recollecting himself, and duties still undone, he stopped these premature preparations and, the valise happening to be the object under his vision, he gave it the most prolonged amorous gaze that ever fell to the lot of insensate leather. Then catching up the letter again, he read it over and over.

That evening a messenger boy ran up the Van Tassel steps, and five minutes afterward Clover was smiling and frowning in perplexity over a telegram addressed to her.

I shall come back at the first possible moment.

GORHAM PAGE.

Aunt Love had brought her the message, and she in her mystification read it aloud. Something in Miss Berry's glance, as she met her eyes, made her color rise finely.

"You need not speak of this to Mildred," she said after a pause, with dignity. "I--I do not quite understand it."

"I don't either," thought Miss Berry, discreetly moving away. "Either he's even more kinds of a gump than I thought, or else he's come to his senses with a crash. I always knew when Gorham Page did start out to love a woman somethin' had got to break; and it ain't goin' to be his heart now, thank the Lord. What a pair they will make! My, my!"

Page returned on the second day toward evening. He hoped fate would favor him by sending Mildred and Jack to the illumination that night. It did not occur to him that Clover might have gone too until he neared the house. Then the thought brought dismay. He had schooled himself for days to work and conquer among dry-as-dust details of his profession. Now, it seemed impossible to wait a matter of hours.

There was no one on the piazza when he ascended the steps, and the evening being fine the fact appeared sinister. Miss Berry answered his ring at the bell.

"Oh, it's you, is it?" was her greeting. "Glad to see you back, Mr. Gorham. It hasn't seemed right not to have you runnin' in every day."

"It is good to be here again; but I am afraid you are alone to-night."

"Yes, the young folks are down to the Fair, as usual." Miss Berry's keen eyes saw the disappointment in the earnest face. "I s'pose like as not you wouldn't feel like goin' down any way, wore out as you must be with all that heat."

"I would go gladly, if there were any chance of meeting them; but the people you want to meet are the ones you do not happen upon at the Fair."

Miss Lovina looked at him with a shrewd smile. "Then I guess you'll give me a good mark for once; for it happened to come over me that you might get home to-night, and I said as much to Miss Mildred. I asked her where they'd be, and she agreed to stay by one o' the big horses till the illumination was over."

"What time is it?" asked Page with sudden haste, wringing Miss Lovina's hand cordially.

"Oh, you've got time, I guess," observed Aunt Love, with a comfortable chuckle. "Now haven't I got a head for somethin' more 'n cookies, Mr. Gorham?"

"If I should stop to compliment you as you deserve, I should miss the appointment," was the hearty response, as the young man lifted his hat and hurried down the steps.

The boy in the driver's seat of the Beach wagon just passing did not bear even a faint resemblance to any conventional idea of Cupid; yet surely no power less than that of the little god could have sent that conveyance exactly at the moment it was needed. Page felicitated himself on the occurrence; and in the whole history of the Fair it is doubtful whether better time was made by a pedestrian than his record to-night between the Sixtieth Street entrance and the Court of Honor.

But for all his haste, when he reached the giant horses his friends were not there. He rushed from one to the other with frantic energy, but in vain. No familiar face and form rewarded his search.

The Grand Court was lighted. The first playing of the electric fountains was over; perhaps had been over for some time. Page was too dispirited to look at his watch. For him the surroundings were stale, flat, and unprofitable,--another proof that the Kingdom of Heaven is a condition rather than a place. He was just about moving away with a sense of disappointment which he condemned as unreasonably keen, when there loomed up before him a vision more beautiful to his eyes than the most lovely sculptured angel in the neighborhood.

"Well, Jack," he exclaimed, taking his cousin's hand, "here you are! I was just looking for you."

Van Tassel smiled at the eager reception.

"Thought we had flown, did you? So we have, a little way. The girls are sitting over yonder. Mildred has been sending me on periodical scouting expeditions, lest you might come down. Glad to see you back. Business go all right?"

"Yes, I'm all right, thanks. Didn't quite get a sunstroke."

Van Tassel was striding along to keep pace with Gorham, who had instantly started in the direction Jack indicated. The latter smiled, and did not make a further attempt at conversation until the settee was reached where Clover and Mildred were waiting.

"You did come," said the latter pleasantly. "We thought you might hunt for us."

"It was so kind of you," exclaimed Page gratefully, as he greeted them both. "Now I can draw a long breath."

The four exchanged a few commonplaces concerning his trip, and then Mildred changed the subject.

"We have cards for a reception at the Woman's Building to-night, and we have been in a dozen minds about going: but I think it would be pleasant to look in."

Gorham glanced tentatively at Clover. He had not been gazing at her this evening as was his wont, and Mildred observed the change. "It would be pleasant," he said, without enthusiasm. "Don't let me detain you, of course. I haven't been here for what seems to me a very long time, and I don't feel inclined to go indoors. Do you especially wish to attend the reception, Mrs. Van Tassel?"

"No--in fact"--

Mildred spoke quickly, for she felt her quiet sister's embarrassment. "The truth may as well be told, Mr. Page. Just previous to your appearance she had flatly refused even to approach the Woman's Building; so she cannot put on airs about relinquishing a pleasure."

"Then we might divide," suggested Page, with so much alacrity that Mildred smiled; but the smile was fleeting. She had risen, and was standing behind her sister. Now she placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Oh, my friends, look!" she cried suddenly, lifting her hand toward the east. The moon was rising behind the Peristyle. Deep in the soft sky it shone between the lofty white columns and cast a silver sheen across the summer lake.

"This is Greece, and that is the Mediterranean!" exclaimed Jack.

Mildred, after a moment of gazing, stooped and dropped a light kiss on her sister's cheek.

"Good-by, Clover." Then, with a loving pressure of the other's shoulder, she added in a jealous whisper: "My Clover."

As the other two moved away, Clover and Gorham rose simultaneously. "I believe we had the same thought," he said, looking at her with happy eyes.

"Mine was to go to the Peristyle," she answered.

"And mine."

She took his offered arm; they started down the half-deserted walk, and quickly came one of the magic changes of the place. The lights vanished, and the colossal moonlit gateway of the Peristyle gained new majesty.

"At last I can thank you for your letter," said Page.

"Were you glad to get it? I am afraid it was not much of an epistle."

"As if any word you would write could be anything but precious! It breathed of you in every line. All things are made new since I read it. My whole life, all my powers, every worthy thing I may ever attain, are yours. Is it possible that you are really going to accept them, that you can care for me, Clover?"

She felt his strong arm tremble under her hand, and it thrilled her; but she was silent, and his impetuous speech rushed on.

"I have had to hold under with an iron will all my thoughts, the contradictions, the hopes and fears, of the last few days. Last night I dreamed of this. We were walking together somewhere, and the moon shone on the water. I asked you to marry me, and you looked at me pityingly and said--No. I reminded you of your letter, but still you shook your head. Clover!"

He spoke her name with tender appeal. They drew near the Peristyle and, stepping within, walked slowly down the wondrous vista of fluted columns beneath the clusters of flower-like lights.

"My letter?" she repeated softly. "How could you value that trivial little letter so much? What was there in it? I do not even remember."

Page stood still, to look in amazement into her face; but even in his surprise it did not occur to him that she might be resorting to subterfuge.

"I have the letter here," he said simply, thrusting his hand into an inside pocket. "We will see."

Clover crimsoned to her throat. She did not wish to see the letter. She suddenly feared it. What trick had been played upon her? Could Mildred-- Oh, impossible!

Gorham unfolded the sheet before her reluctant gaze. Then with sudden haste she took it from him, opened it, and read the closing lines. Her breath came freer.

"Oh yes," she said, smiling in her relief. "I wrote that."

Gorham unconsciously received the paper into his hand. He was scrutinizing her face. "What did you mean by those words?" he asked.

"Why, nothing," she answered, surprised and affected by his agitation,--"nothing except what I said. Let me read it."

"Those last words," said Page briefly, indicating them.

Clover read obediently aloud.

"I wonder--you always seem so sufficient unto yourself, so much more a man of intellect than of heart--I wonder if you ever feel, as I do more and more strongly every day, our--dependence." The voice gradually lowered, then paused; Clover cast one beseeching, troubled glance up into her companion's face. It was as pale as hers was glowing.

"We always have been so impersonal. Of course I meant people in general," she finished, low and quickly.

Page gave her a sad smile. "We have theorized and speculated together a great deal, I know. So this was only one more speculation, was it?"

"Why, Mr. Page!" said Clover, scarcely above the breath that was failing her. "How could you think"--

"I don't know now, myself," he answered with simplicity. "I suppose I was so suffused with love of you that this one hint at reciprocation set my head aflame, and brought on an attack of emotional insanity. I ask your pardon; but all the same, Clover, I am not ashamed, and I cannot regret it. It was my good angel who held your little hand while you wrote that, for it gave me moments of such happiness as I never knew before, and perhaps never shall again."

Clover wanted to speak and could not. She thought if he would move, or take his gaze from her face, her courage might rise. She lifted her eyes, but only far enough to note that the electric fountains were flinging their jets of color aloft; the water taking new shapes each moment with bewildering grace and rapidity.

"I never thought of you before as a woman whom it would be right for a man to ask to come down beside him; I did not know that my heart was reaching out toward yours until that day of the letter. Would you mind telling me, Clover, how long you have known that I loved you?"

Clover drew a long, involuntary breath. "I did not know it," she said at last, looking up at him bravely; and when once her eyes were held in that compelling gaze, she did not wish to escape. "I only--hoped it," she finished.

The fountains fell and vanished. The dainty flame-blossoms in the remote sculptured nooks overhead still added their soft radiance to that of the moon. The lovers were alone in that colossal aisle, that pillared temple, where for one transcendent moment they stood heart to heart. It was the period of shadow in the Court. At the other end of the lagoon, far away through spaces of darkness, the gemmed dome of Administration lifted its cameos and starry crown against the heavens. From the distance of the lighted Peristyle the deep surrounding shadows gave a supernatural effect to this single lighted edifice, whose triumphant angels seemed to move in the waving illumination thrown over them from flaming torches. It was an aerial castle, with no affinity for earth; an exalting vision such as visited the prophets of old.

"Earlier in the evening," said Page, almost too deeply moved to speak, "I would willingly have turned from the Court of Honor. I could not find you, and its company of angels was incomplete. Now, heaven itself lies here. I ought to be a good man, my darling. You will help me. It is a debt I shall owe for ever more."

*CHAPTER XXVI.*

*THE NEW YEAR.*

The reception at the Woman's Building proved attractive. It was late when Mildred and Jack returned home that night. All was still about the house. They parted in the usual friendly fashion, which both sought to make easy, and each felt to be constrained.

Mildred went quietly to her sister's door and listened. All was still. "Then she has been at home some time," thought the girl. "Good! That speaks volumes. Poor fellow, I'm sorry for him." The _frou-frou_ of her dress as she turned away almost drowned the voice that spoke her name. Not quite, however. She turned the handle of the door.

"Did you call me, Clover?"

"Yes; come in."

"I didn't mean to disturb you."

"Oh, I can't go to sleep. I don't want to."

The speaker put out her hand, and drew Mildred down on the side of the bed. The latter's eyes widened in their effort to penetrate the darkness.

"Something did happen, then?"

"Yes, it is all right," answered Clover, and her soft, glad tone pierced to her sister's heart.

"What do you mean by that?"

"He does love me!" What a different voice was this from the one in which she had said the same words to Jack Van Tassel five years ago!

"Of course; but, Clover, surely you don't love him!" exclaimed the other, aghast.

For answer, Clover took the hand she held and pressed it against her breast. "With every throb," she said slowly.

Mildred stared, then threw herself face down on the pillow and wept with abandon.

"Dearest, please don't," exclaimed Clover, shocked.

"I must," sobbed the other. "Oh, why did we ever see him! You are all I have in the world. I hate anybody who takes you away from me."

"Nobody can, dear. You know that," returned Clover, distressed by this rare flood. She slipped her arm around the recumbent form, and interspersed her words with loving pats. "I am so disappointed, Milly. I thought you would be as happy as I am."

"I am never as happy as you are," answered the other. "I know this is abominable, but I've got to be selfish this once. I'm just envious and miserable, Clover. Why should you always be blessing people and I never? My heart is heavy, and it hurts me all the time."

In an instant Clover sank her joy in loving compassion. It was the first admission concerning Jack that Mildred had ever made.

"My poor darling, I am so sorry," she said feelingly, "and I do not see that you have done any wrong. Instead, you have been true to yourself. Anything else would have been a dreadful mistake."

Mildred was so surprised that she stopped crying suddenly. "Then Jack has told you?" she said without lifting her face, a belated sob struggling in her throat.

"Yes. Shouldn't you prefer to have him go away?"

"No, not unless he wishes it. I would rather he stayed."

"Things will come right for you, dearest. They always do when one is trying to live up to her standards, and to do the best she knows how. Perhaps I have made you feel that even I thought you ought to marry him. If I have, please forgive me for adding to the cruelty of your position. I ought to have known that you would be glad, too, if it could have been Jack."

Mildred rose to a sitting position. "Let us forgive mutually," she said, wiping her eyes. "I am mortally ashamed of myself for bothering you at such a time. Wait till to-morrow morning and see me redeem my character by my treatment of that--thief!" She stooped and kissed her sister passionately. "Why should I blame him, when I know that I would not look at any woman but you if I were a man? What a lot of trouble it would have saved me, by the way!"

"I don't know," returned the other with a smile. "You see I should have been forced to refuse you."

"That is just like saying you love him better than me," with quick suspicion.

"No, no; only better than that man you were going to be."

"Well," said Mildred, shrugging her shoulder in a characteristic gesture, "I rather think I should enjoy the refreshing change of being refused once or twice. As for you,--as if I should mind your refusal! I should simply kidnap you." She stooped, and laid her cheek against Clover's once more.

Aunt Love was a happy woman next day. She was quite a heroine in the small family jubilation.

"All my life I shall owe you twelve added hours of happiness," Page said to her, when she gave him a rousing kiss.

"Well, Mr. Gorham, you know I always was good to you," she responded radiantly, and contented herself all day by drawing Mildred off into corners to discuss this and that detail of "his" and "her" behavior during the past weeks; "trifles light as air," but "confirmation strong" to Aunt Love of a good time coming, and which she dwelt upon with such profound delight and secrecy that Mildred had not the heart to refuse her an audience for all the asides she chose to make.

Gorham Page allowed himself a brief period in which to realize his happiness before returning to Boston, but his energies now turned willingly toward his work as the means by which he could soonest carry Clover to his own home and hers; and before he left, it had been arranged that they should be married the following spring.

The day before the one set for his departure, Jack came out to Clover, who was sitting with some fancy work on the piazza. Page was at the hotel, writing business letters.

"Gorham says your cigars are too strong to be good for you," she said, looking up as he struck a match.

"Yes, he has let out from the shoulder lately," returned Jack, puffing his cigar alight.

"Do listen to him, Jack," said the other pleadingly. "Don't injure your health."

"What is my health good for?" asked the young fellow, dropping down on the edge of the piazza, upon which he extended one leg, while he embraced the other knee as he leaned against a pillar.

"Don't talk that way," said Clover. Van Tassel had never heard her use so acute a tone, and he was surprised on looking up to see her eyes swimming. "It is wicked when one has friends who love him as yours do you."

"All right, Clover. Thank you. I am listening to Gorham. This cigar that I have here"--he removed it from his lips, and regarded it through contracted lids--"might have become sauerkraut by a little different process of handling." He smoked a minute in silence, then said: "Mildred has gone away, hasn't she?"

"Yes; she has gone to spend a day or two with Helen Eames. Helen has been urging her all summer."

"I think I'll go back with Gorham to-morrow," added Van Tassel briefly.

"Why, Jack!" Clover dropped her work and gazed at him.

"Yes, I'll go back." The young man flipped the ash from his cigar off into the grass.

"Do you feel that you have seen the Fair?"

"Yes, too many Fairs." Jack smiled rather dolefully as he glanced up toward the blue eyes.

"I can't urge you to stay," said Clover sadly.

"Oh, perhaps I'll come back," remarked the other cheerfully, "when I get my second wind, as it were. The first supply has been about knocked out of me."

"You don't look well."

"Oh yes, I am well enough."

"You have behaved like an angel, Jack."

He laughed. "I feel a little like one of those angels on the side of the Transportation Building,--the sort you can pass under a door without touching their buttons, you know."

"Did you plan to go without saying good-by to Mildred?"

"Oh no."

"I'm glad of that. It would hurt her."

"No. I will run up to the Eameses this evening and kill two birds with one stone. I ought to say good-by to Miss Eames. She has been very kind to me. That is," looking up inquiringly, "if you and Gorham can spare me on your last evening. How is that?"

There was dew again in the violet eyes. "It does not seem right for me to be happy when you are not, Jack," Clover said, unconsciously clasping her hands together. "If I could only say something that would stay with you as a comfort! I am afraid to seem to preach when my own lot is what it is. You are plucky and have plenty of self-control, but I hope you will not try to lean only on your own strength. We can all have faith that, so long as we do right, the outcome will be the best thing for us, whatever it is."

"I'm not kicking," said Jack quietly, "but I am going away because I believe it is the best thing both for Mildred and me."

"Does she know your intention?"

"No. It is rather sudden. I only took it to-day. I have staid here long enough to bring things the way I want them if it were on the cards. Now, I will do the next best thing."

A couple of days afterward, Mildred returned from her visit. She came breezily into the room where her sister was sitting.

"Oh, I am so glad to see you!" exclaimed Clover, starting up and kissing her.

"Let us look at you," said Mildred, holding her off and scrutinizing her with bright, audacious eyes. "No, they are not red," she continued; "I thought I might be coming home to a Niobe."

"They are both gone," said Clover plaintively.

"Yes." Mildred turned away to a mirror, and began removing her hat-pins. "I have been kept so busy consoling Helen Eames that I couldn't come home any sooner to dry your tears."