"Homer's and mine! Homer! Isn't that a name to inspire one? Fate must have ordained that he should bear such a name. Only a cla.s.sic poet's could be in harmony. It must be the purest, the best, the finest, the most perfect," rhapsodized Eleanor.

Mammy looked at her a little anxiously, and asked:

"Isn't yo' better lay down on dat baid yonder? Yo's been a bendin' ober dose papers twell yo' haid's achin', I'se feered."

"Ah, no, Mammy, but think of it! To live in a Grecian dwelling! A perfect reproduction of an Athenian temple. With the fountain of Hippocrene in it's center, from which a rill will flow murmuring all the day. Helicon's harmonious stream. We shall call it Helicon Hall, and there we shall train the youthful mind to a deep appreciation of true beauty. In the central court, overroofed with gla.s.s and filled with tropical plants, will be our hearth stone, our altar, on either side of which will stand our lares and penates. Could any other mind have conceived this wonderful dream in this prosaic age? See, see our plans, Mammy? How clear, how concise, how graphic. Ah, I can picture it all-all."

"Well den I cyant!" cried Mammy, losing patience, "and I don' reckon yo'

Ma nor none ob de yethers kin. At any rate, I got sumpin else ter do 'sides standin' hyar listenin' at what I sets down as jist foolishness; an' ef I was yo' Ma I'd tell yo' not ter go a-climbin' up dat mountain no mo' twell de wedder done cool off some," and with this admonition Mammy left the dreamer to her dreams. But before we take a long leave of her, we will add, by the way, that in the course of time this dream crystallized into a large building, in the form of the Parthenon, wherein this modern Socrates, Professor Homer Forbes, and a charming Hypatia, his wife, led the minds of affluent youths, whose parents were willing to indulge them in such luxuries, along paths of learning literally flower-strewn. Reclining at length upon the green sward of the court of Helicon Hill, they drank in the words of wisdom falling from the lips of their preceptors. Eleanor had achieved her ideals: Homer Forbes his. What more could mortals ask?

And the lares and penates? Well, Jean was rather practical. Those old Greek fireside G.o.ds might be all very well in their way, but Greece had seen _her_ day. In the present one there was a quaint little grinning "G.o.d of things, as they ought to be," to which Jean pinned greater faith; and when, one beautiful April day, Homer Forbes and his bride returned from their wedding journey, and entered the inner court of Helicon Hall, where the (let us hope) sacred fire burned upon the hearth, the first thing upon which Eleanor's eyes rested in these cla.s.sic surroundings was "Billykin," perched above the blazing logs.

And in the interval between that warm September day and the lighting of that hearth by loving hands for the home-coming of the idealists? Ah, life holds some sweet moments, and this old world is not such a bad one, after all. But we antic.i.p.ate.

October came again, and all the world was beautiful in its golden haze.

With Eleanor's engagement to Homer Forbes, and her complete absorption in her demi-G.o.d, who had changed her plans so completely, her future so entirely, Eleanor plunged headlong into consummating his dreams so far as in her power lay. This left Constance largely to herself and her own plans. All had gone well with her, and, with the beginning of the social season in Riveredge and elsewhere, Constance's business grew very brisk.

She was kept busy from morning to evening. It was a wonderfully happy life for her. To be the chief support of her family, to give to her mother the thousand little luxuries she had known in earlier life, to give to Jean every possible advantage, both educational and social, and still have time to enjoy life at its heyday herself-why-surely, no more could be asked.

Mary and f.a.n.n.y Willing were as happy and content as two girls well could be, and worked and sang from dawn to twilight. With the autumn even more help became necessary to keep abreast of the orders; and, through Hadyn, Constance secured the services of a man in whom Hadyn was deeply interested. He had known him in college days, but days of adversity had overtaken him, and for two years he had seemed to be the very toy of an adverse fate. In that interval his family had slipped into the Great Beyond, and the small nest-egg left him had been swept from him by the failure of the company in which it was invested, throwing Edward DeLaney upon his own resources.

Upon Hadyn's advice he was engaged by Constance as bookkeeper and a sort of general superintendent, dividing his time between the Candy Kitchen, the Arcade, and the other booths, which, in the course of time had been established elsewhere. He was only twenty-five, but an able, manly fellow, quick-witted and resourceful. He took firm hold of affairs instantly, and, during the course of the ensuing winter, Constance more than once thanked the lucky star which had guided this tall, clear-eyed, finely-set-up six-foot laddie to her Candy Kitchen. No one could look into those fine, hazel eyes without trusting them instantly, nor see the lines of that resolute, yet tender mouth without reading the man's character. His skin was as fair and as clear as a child's, and his smile as winning. He speedily found his way into the home circle, and just the degree of happiness it brought to him few guessed.

But this is dipping into the future by several months. At present we are in October's golden glow.

"What a day!" cried Hadyn, as he and Constance came out upon the piazza one beautiful afternoon when luncheon was over.

"Isn't it simply heavenly? It seems to me we never have such days excepting during October. Look at the coloring over on that mountain and on our own hills. It is perfectly intoxicating. It makes me feel like doing something out of the usual order, and yet I ought to go out yonder to the Candy Kitchen and lend a hand with the thousand and one things to be attended to. I tell you, Hadyn Stuyvesant, I am rapidly becoming a power in the commercial world," laughed Constance.

"You are a greater power already than you guess. Before you know it that business will have grown beyond its boundaries again, and even greater expansion will be necessary. But just now let's 'forget it,' and go for a ride up that glorious mountain. I'll 'phone down to Pringle's for Lightfoot, and we'll have an afternoon fit for the G.o.ds."

"Done! I'm only human, and the call of the woods on such a day as this drowns the call of duty. But I hate to take Comet from you; you seem so much a part of each other."

"Since he came to live here he has become a part of you all, and more nearly _human_ than ever. Jean has seen to that. How that child loves animals! I've a little scheme in the back part of my head which I mean shall take tangible form when her next birthday comes around."

"Oh, what is it?" cried Constance, for everything concerning Jean held the keenest interest for her.

"Tell you after we've had our ride. I'm off now for my togs. See you inside half an hour. Tell Parsons to saddle Comet for you," and with a wave of his hand Hadyn hurried away to get into his riding clothes. An hour later they rode away from the house, as bonny a pair as eyes could rest upon, and upon which one pair did rest with the love and devotion one often sees in the eyes of a dog; Mammy raised her ap.r.o.n, wiped a tear from her lids, and said softly to herself:

"_Dem's ma chillen._ Yis, jist ma own G.o.d-blessedest ones what ever _is_ live! Him, too. Miss Nornie kin tek up wid dat Perfesser man ef she wanter, but _gimme dat one ridin' 'way yonder_. He's de very cream ob all creation, an' he gwine be mighty good ter ma baby, too. I ain't need no secon' sight fer ter read _dat_ writin'. An' he gwine fin' out what a pearl o' price he gettin', too, dough I reckons he got some notion o'

dat a'reddy. An' he gwine git somepin' he ain' countin' 'pon a mite, an'

would be clar _'bove_ countin' 'pon anyhow; he gwine git a wife wha' got her _own nes'aig_. Charles an' me ain' run dat ar' lunch counter all dis time jist fer fun an' de reppitation it done give us; no, sir-ee! We done put 'side 'nough fer ter give each o' ole Ma.s.sa's gran'chillen dey _dots_, as dose French folks calls it. Yis, we is, an' I's proud ob it, too. It's de onlies' way we kin eber show em dat dey's ours, an' we's deirs. Mebbe Ma.s.sa Stuyvesant got a-plenty, an' mebbe Ma.s.sa Fo'bes is got, too, a-plenty fer 'em bofe-I dunno-but I knows dis much: A 'omans a mighty sight mo' self-respectin' an', an' sort o' stan'in' firm on her own foots ef she knows dars a stockin'full o' gol' wha' she kin turn inside-out ef she want ter 'thout axin' 'by yo' leave, Mr. Man,' no matter how she love him or he love her. An' me an' Charles done fix dat all right, so we has. Gawd bress ma chillen! Gawd bress em! Dey's filled ma soul wid joy all de days of ma life, and dey's made Charles' foots fer ter walk in de green past'ers endurin' his declinin' years. Oh, we's happy, we is, wid de Gawd-blessedes' white folks two ol' cullered folks ever is know."

CHAPTER XIX

THREE LITTLE WOMEN'S SUCCESS

How quickly things come about in this world. Barely an hour had pa.s.sed since good old Mammy watched her "baby" ride away so happily. Never were hearts lighter than those of the riders. The girl mounted upon the beautiful thoroughbred bay horse, which had grown to know and love her voice and touch as he knew and loved his master's; his splendid head tossing up and down in his delight; his superb neck arching in pride; his delicate nostrils distended to draw in delicious whiffs of the pine-scented air; his dainty hoofs barely touching the ground! Grace, beauty, strength incarnate as the play of the great muscles beneath that satiny coat carried him forward-one of G.o.d's most perfect creatures. The girl riding cross-saddle felt the thrill of his action to her finger-tips. Her body swayed with every motion of the beautiful horse.

She seemed a very part of him; he of her. The man riding beside her upon his fine gray was fully alive to the beauty of both rider and horse, and his eyes rested upon them with intense admiration. The soft light of the woods seemed reflected in the eyes she turned toward him-its mystery in the smile which curved his lips. It was a happy world, and these two could enjoy its beauty.

The horse Hadyn rode was a high-strung, nervous creature, alert to every sound or motion about him. As they pa.s.sed through the town he had shied more than once, and required firm handling; but up in this silent mountain road there was little to excite him, and Comet's example had a quieting influence. They had nearly reached the summit of the mountain, and just ahead the road made a sharp turn. They were close upon it when a warning honk! honk! caused Haydn to tighten his hold upon his reins.

Then around the turn whirled a huge touring car. It was all over in a moment. The car skidded, hurled itself against the riders, the chauffeur made a desperate attempt to control his machine, but failed, and it tore on down the mountain entirely beyond his control, leaving behind it a p.r.o.ne horse and a madly excited one, which, in spite of its rider's strenuous efforts to control it, dashed on a quarter of a mile up the mountain before he could stop it, turn and gallop back to the spot where the accident occurred. Those minutes seemed like years to Hadyn.

Flinging himself from the horse, though still holding the bridle rein, he cried:

"My G.o.d, my darling!" as he caught Constance in his arms. She did not appear to notice his act or his words, but stood, white and trembling, pointing to Comet.

"But you, you, my little girl! my little girl!"

"No, no! I'm not hurt a particle. Quick! tie that mad brute to a tree and _do_ something. I slid off as Comet fell. I'm not hurt; but he, _he_ is dying. Oh, Comet! Comet!" And with a heart-breaking sob she fell upon her knees beside the horse. The radiator of the car had struck his forehead and stunned him, but the heavy lantern had torn that jagged wound in the perfect foreleg just below the shoulder, and from it his life blood was gushing with every heart-throb.

"But, Constance! Constance! my little girl, you must be hurt!" cried Hadyn, bending over her.

"I'm not! I'm not, I tell you," she cried, impatiently. "Go tie that horse and come here. We _must_ save Comet!"

With the keenest anguish he had ever known Hadyn hurried the still restless horse to a sapling, tied him securely, and then returned to Constance, who was upon her knees striving to stanch the red stream flowing from the powerful leg. Puny effort! A moment before the splendid creature lying there upon the ground had been life, strength, vigor, beauty incarnate. Now-an inanimate ma.s.s.

"My little one, oh, my little one, come away! come away! This is no place for you," begged Hadyn, striving to draw her from the scene. She turned upon him like a fury, echoing indignantly:

"Come away! come away! What are you saying, Hadyn? With Comet dying? For he is. Quick! help me. We must stop this! I'm afraid an artery is severed. Make a tourniquet of your handkerchief or something. Oh, _do!

do!_" she urged, frantically.

"Oh, this is horrible! horrible! I would rather have him die a hundred deaths than have you pa.s.s through all this!" cried Hadyn, as he tied his handkerchief about the horse's leg and sought to twist it tight enough to stop the flow. It was useless. It needed a stouter bandage than that.

The girl saw this, and the next instant had unbuckled the bridle rein, and was kneeling and binding it around the leg above that ragged wound.

Then quickly slipping her riding-crop through the loop with Hadyn's a.s.sistance, she turned it tighter and tighter, and presently had the joy of seeing that red flow lessen. "Oh, for help! Is _no_ one within a hundred miles of us?" she moaned. "Hold this, Hadyn, and let me ride for someone," she cried.

"Constance! Never! Do you realize the state you are in?"-for the girl had given no thought to self in her excitement. One glance at her habit was enough.

"And do you think I would let you mount that mad brute? Had he not plunged aside, he, instead of Comet, would be lying before us this minute.

"Then you must go. Go at once, Hadyn. Ride to Pringle's for the ambulance and help."

"And leave you here alone on this mountain road with that horse, which may revive from this blow and struggle? Constance, are you mad?"

"No, I was never saner in all my life; but, unless you go, _I_ shall. He won't struggle; he knows my voice, and he is already too weak from this-_this_ awful thing to try to struggle," and she pointed shudderingly at the discolored earth. "Hadyn, dear, dear Hadyn, please, please go," she implored, turning up to him a pair of eyes swimming in tears. "I shall know what to do. Oh, please trust me! Please, do!"

For one moment the man looked at the woman dearer to him than all the world beside, then stooping over her he rested his lips first upon one eyelid then the other, and said very, very gently:

"G.o.d bless and guard you, my darling. I shall go as quickly as that beast can take me, and I shall never forget _this_. Comet, Comet, old man, we've fought some tough fights; but this is the toughest of all,"

and, bending over the horse, he ran his hand along the silky neck.

The faintest flutter of the nostrils acknowledged the caress, and the next second Hadyn had flung himself upon Lightfoot, and was riding down that mountain road at a pace which threatened destruction. Constance had never for a second lessened her firm hold upon the riding-crop, but her eyes followed the rider, and her lips murmured:

"A moment ago I was a girl and did not realize. Now I know. Oh, Hadyn, Hadyn, come safely back to us!" and still holding that life-saving little riding-crop she laid her head down upon the beautiful neck and sobbed as though her heart would break.

Animals which are constantly with human beings learn to understand the tones which varying emotions govern, just as a human being learns to understand the wonderful language of the so-called dumb creatures. Comet had been Hadyn's closest companion for years, and during the past six months had been petted and cared for by all in Mrs. Carruth's home. But it was Constance whom he had grown to love best; Constance who rode him when Hadyn was at his office; and many a delightful hour's exercise had she taken on the splendid horse.