At night, alone in the darkness, there were a few tears that no one would ever know about. Her joy in her accepted work was nothing to Ralph Towne. He did not know about her book and if he knew-would he care?

VIII.-A NOTE OUT OF TUNE.

The blossom storm came and blew away the apple blossoms, the heavy fragrance of the lilacs died, and the shrubbery became again only a ma.s.s of green leaves and ugly, crooked stems; but amid this, something happened to Tessa; something that was worth as much to her as any happenings that came before it; something that had its beginning when she was a little school-girl running along the planks and teasing Felix Harrison. How much certain jarring words spoken that day and how much a certain bit of news influenced this happening, she, in her rigid self-a.n.a.lysis, could not determine!

She arose from the breakfast table at the same instant with her father, saying: "Father, I will walk to the corner with you."

"We were two souls with one thought," he replied. "I intended to ask you for a few minutes."

They crossed the street to the planks. She slipped her arm through his, and as he took the fingers on his arm with a warm grasp, she said; "I never want any lover but you, my dear old father."

"Nonsense, child! Only girls who have had a heart-break say such things to their old fathers, and your heart is as good as new, I am sure.

Tessa, I want to see you married before I die."

"May you live till you see me married," she answered merrily. "What an old mummy you will be!"

"I have been thinking of something that I want to say to you. I am an old man and I am not young for my age-"

"Now, father."

"I may live a hundred years, of course, and grow heartier each year, and like the 'frisky old girl,' die at the age of one hundred and ten, and 'die by a fall from a cherry-tree then,' but, still there's a chance that I may not. And now, Daughter Tessa"-his voice became as grave as her eyes, "I want you to promise me that you will always take care of your poor little mother; poor little mother! You are never sharp to her like saucy Dine, and she rests in you like an acorn in an acorn cup, although she would be the last to confess it."

"I promise to do my best," Tessa said very earnestly.

"But that is only a part of it. Promise me that if she wishes to marry again, and her choice be one that _you_ approve-"

"Approve!"

"Approve," he repeated, "that you will not hinder but rather further it, and keep Dine from making her unhappy about it."

"I will not promise. You shall not die," she cried pa.s.sionately. "How can you talk so and break my heart?"

"Dr. Watts says that we all begin to die as soon as we are born, so I have had to do it pretty thoroughly; but he was a theologian and not a medical man. Have you promised?"

"Yes, sir," speaking very quietly, "I have promised."

With her hand upon his arm, they kept even step for ten silent minutes.

"Are you writing again?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then you must walk every day."

"Oh, I do, rain or shine. I am going down the road this afternoon to look at the wheat fields and the oat fields and to see the boys and girls dropping corn!"

"And to wish that you were a little girl dropping corn?"

"No, indeed," she said earnestly and solemnly. "I like my own life better than any life I ever knew in a book or out of a book."

"When I count up my mercies I'll remember that."

She was dwelling upon those words of her father late that afternoon as she sauntered homeward with her hands full of wild flowers and gra.s.ses.

"Mystic, will you ride with me?"

A feeling of warmth and of tenderness ever crept into her heart at the sound of this voice.

She loved Dr. Lake.

"No, sir, thank you; I am out for a walk and when I walk I never ride."

"But I want to talk to you-to tell you something." She stepped nearer and stood at the carriage wheel; his voice was sharp and his white temples hollow. "Sue has refused me," he began with a laugh. "I proposed last night, and what do you think she said? 'Why, Dr. Lake, you are poor, and you smell of medicine.'"

"They are both true," she said, not conscious of what reply she was making.

"Yes," he answered bitterly, "they are both true and will _be_ true until the end of time. Don't you think that you could reason with her and change her mind; you have influence." He laid his gloved hand on the hand that rested on the wheel. "It will kill me, Mystic, if she doesn't marry me."

So weak, so pitiful! She could have cried. And all for love of flighty Sue Greyson!

"I was sure that she would accept me. She has done every thing _but_ accept me. I did not know that a woman would permit a man to take her day after day into his arms and kiss her unless she intended to marry him. Would _you_ permit that?" he asked.

"You know that I would not," she answered proudly; "but Sue doesn't know any better; all she cares for is the 'fun' of the moment."

"I have been hoping so long; since Towne went away; I can't bear this."

"There is as much strength for you as for any of us," she said gently.

"But I am too weak to hold it."

And he looked too weak to hold it. She could not lift her full eyes. "I am so sorry," was all she could speak.

"There isn't any thing worth living for anyway; I, for one, am not thankful for my 'creation.' I wish I was dead and buried and out of sight forever. Sue Greyson has another offer to whisper to all Dunellen.

I would not stay here, I would go back to that wretched hospital, but my engagement with her father extends through another year. Well, you won't ride home with me?"

"Not to-day, I want to be out in this air."

"And you don't want to be shut in here with my growling. I don't blame you; I'd run away from myself if I could. I'll kill half Dunellen and all Mayfield with overdoses before another night, and then take a big dose myself. Say, Mystic, you are posted in these things, where would be the harm?"

"Take it and see."

"Not yet awhile. I am not sure of many things, but I _am_ sure that a man's life in this world will stare in his face in the next. And my life has not been fit even for your eyes."

Homely, shabby, old, worn, excited, with a sharp ring in his voice and a stoop in his shoulders. What was there in him to touch Sue Greyson?