The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, December 7, 1902, Page 5

Copyrighted, 1902, by Eliza Orne White. HE Rev. Francis Hollis was in that nervous state of mind that is apt to precede a journey when it is a rare event. He took out his watch. “Five minutes of three. Jones ought to be here,” he said impatiently. “You didn’t order the carriage until 3,” his wife reminded him, timidly. “You must give & great deal of love to father,” she added, to your sisters Clara and Frances, and the doctor, and to—"" she hesitated. “I suppose you will see the Wyatts?” “If I have time I shall look them up,” be answered. “Clara says Letitia is as handsome as ever,” she ventured. “How long is it since you have seen her? It must be twenty years at ¢ “It is all of that. “She will find you very much changed.” “Changed?’ He turned on her sharply. “Yes, you have grown so much stouter, and you are getting so gray. It is very becoming to you,” Mrs. Hollis hastened to add. “I never saw you looking better than you are looking this minute; I was only thinking she would find a difference ‘We are middle-aged people now, Frank. He looked &t his wife, with her plump, matronly figure and gray hair. Sophy had never been pretty, and, on the whole, the years had been kind to her; she had guined more than she had lost. Still, it was true, they were middle-aged people sccording to the ideas of the world, and perhaps it was too much to expect her to understand him so completely as to be able to realize that there were days when be feit like an ardent boy, in spite of his 60 years. This was one of those days. It was not of Sophy, who had ‘been his faithful wife for more than thirty years, that he thinking &s the carriage the door, but of a girl whose beauty had won his heart band, according to the average he had nothing to reproach himself with, he declared, as he went down the doorsteps, and yet in all those yeers th d not been a time when the mere mention of this other woman's name had not quickened his pulses. Safe at the bottom of a drawer in his study was her photograph, and deep down in the bottom of his mind was the thought of her. Letitia Wyatt was the most bean- tiful woman he had ever known, and the most gifted. Her standard had been so that she could not think of him for sband, but this had only set her on e more lofty pinnacle. Humility was not his chief characteristic, but he was very humble whenever he thought of Letitia “Frank, aren’'t you going to kiss me good-by7” Sophy asked, running down the steps after him “I thought I had.” He turned and kissed her with hasty perfunctoriness. “Don’t mope while I am gone. Have a good time.” As the carriage was taking Mr. Hollis away from his wife, he did not once think of her. He was fond of Sophy, more so than she imagined or than he himself, but he was going East, and his heart was full of the exultant happiness of a schoolboy. It was of that other woman he was thinking, and of the time when he had loved her, nearly forty years ago. At each stage of the journey the Rev. Francis Hollis left a' few years of his life behind him, until by the time he reached BEppingham he was ridiculously young. On the station platform he looked eagerly to the left. The trees had grown; they made such a bower of yellow and red that he could only eatch a glimpse of the ‘Wyatts' chimneys In the distance. The village, with its white houses and .two slender white spires, had changed very little in forty years, Ta be sure thers were evidences of electric lights and tele- phones, and men and women were makinyg thelr swift way on bieyeles through the sleepy streets, but these. things did littls to impair the general Impression of aristocratic conservatism and peacefyl self-satisfaction. ¢ When Mr. Hollis reached the Newh farm his father-in-law was standing on the doorstep to greet hi It was eix years since they had met, a trifling space of time In the life of the octogenari:n, and his son-in-law could truthtully say, ¢ You have not changed in the least. You hnvefined the secret of eternal youth.” s T sternal dge would come nearer i, the old man. “You've grown fleshy, Frank, and you are getting gray. That doesn’t seem right in a boy like you,” he added with a smile, “I suppose you will see the Wyatts When you are Stopping with Clara?”’ Peter Newkall said after supper, as he and his son-in-law were sitting in the prim par- lor that was only used on state occasions. “'l thought I should look them up.” - “Lucy Wyatt was here in the summer ‘long with her sister Deborah. They cime to buy a cow. She's a real sweet ‘woman, Lucy Wyatt." “I never could forgive her for the way she treated Alec.” T'll own X'd feit kind o' hard to her all these years,” sald the old man, *but when I come to talk with her and see her with the same childlike eyes and yellow hair, but so changed in her face, and when I see the tears come into her eyes at ths sound of my poor boy’s name I feel dif- ferent. And I thought, ‘if she. was to blame, I guess she’'s had her own punish- ment.” But so far as I could find out it was her folk that made the trouble. I kind o' mistrusted all along that Letitia was at the bottom of it.” “Letitia! I am sure she would never ure undue influence.” Bhe is the most con- dlentious woman I know.” “Mebbe you're right. Consclence often makes folk interfere with other people. Not that I blame Letitia. My boy wa'n't a good match for Lucy Wyatt, to Letitia’s ideas. Only what .fifiiflzf was the cold way they treated him. Well, ft_ain’t no use cryin’ over spilt milk. What's past is past. Letitia Wyatt is a #ood woman. She'is a church member, and I haven't any call to find fault with her. Only, sometimes as I sit here alone and the past keeps coming up untfl it seems more clear than the present, T get to thlnking of how it might have been. But®hat's neither here nor there. If they only freated my boy like a friend instead of The dust under their feet why then he wouldn't have gone West, and there nev. er would have been the trouble with the other woman. But my poor lad got des- perate, and he thought it wa'n't any use trying to be a good man so long as therc was the fact that he come of farmers’ people to stand between him and the girl he leved.” The picture of Letitia Wyatt that the Rev. Francls Hollis carried in his heart for 80 many years was not to be aitered by a single detail on account of the re- marks of a disappointed old man. Mr. Hollis felt sure that Letitla had used no undue influence with Lucy. When he went to stay with his sister, Mps. Si- monds, in the village, he questioned her. Clara was very fond of Letitia. “How are the Wyatts?' he asked care- lessly on the evening of his arrival. “Deborah is always the picture of health, Lucy Is never very strong and Letitia 1is just getting over the grip. You would think by the way the other two go on she had had pneumonia.” “Would Letitia be well enough to see me if I were to call there to-morrow? I want to see them all.” “I don’tknow. I haven't seen her go out of the house, but maybe she come¢s downstairs. Frances,” Mrs. Simonds in- quired, opening the door into the next room, “do you know whether Miss Leti- tia has come downstairs yet.” “She came down yesterday for the first time.” Mrs. Simonds closed the door and re- turned .to her chair. Her brother found there was no use in trying to lead up to the subject. He was obliged to plunge directly in. “You never heard, dld you,” he began confidentially, “that Letitia had anything to do with breaking up that old affair between Lucy and Alec?” “I don’t know anything about it. I have never been intimate with Letitia. T have lived next door to Letitla Wyatt ever since we moved into this house, and that was twenty-six years, ago, and I have never learned to know her any better than the day we moved In. She has a grand air about her that keeps one at a distance. Deborah and Lucy are so dif- ferent. “I am very fond of Letitia—I always was. I don't think it is fair to call 2 woman selfish merely because shé has her own way. She ls the oldest, and has 2 right to her way, and it is a very good way. I am sure the doctor has his way in this house, not that I grudge it to him; byt some one has to have the casting vote |n every household. Letitia and I al- ways get on beautifully together. only I can never seem to get close to her.” When Mr. Hollls made his call at the Wyatts’ be was disappointed to find that Letitia was not well enough to see him. Deborah was out, and Lucy brought dewn an invitation to him from Letitia to take tea with them at § o'clock the next afternoon. “I am so glad to see you, Mr. Hollis,”" Lucy said, with her half-shy but wholly sincere manner. Lucy always liked boys, gray-haired or otherwise, apd felt wonderfully at ease with her sister’s old“lover, while he, on hig side, was charmed with her. They talked on general topics and neighborhood goseip for a time. In those days when be hud first fallen in love with Letitia, Lucy had been a tiny girl, a very capti- vating child, who had insisted that he should hold her orf his knee and tell her stor‘es. At last they began to talk of those far-away times. “You used to tell me delightful stories of what you did when you were a little boy."” “Did I? It seems like a fairy tale now to think that I ever was a little boy. Youth is a good thing. I wish when we had it we ever knew how good a thing it 8. “I wish so too, with all my heart.” Alec was so strongly present in Lucy’s mird that it was only by an effort that she could prevent herself from saying his name. She hastily changed the sub- Ject and spoke of Frances Simonds and of her desire to be a trained nurse. “I can't tell you how strongly I feel on the subject of girls asserting thefr in- dividuality.” He looked at the gentle woman before him, who had never in her whole life as- serted hers. *“1 wish you had felt that when you were 20,” he burst out. “Sometimes I think the sin of not dar- ing to do, the sin of quiescence, is the greatest sin of all in the Lord’s eyes,” she returned impulsively. The barriers of conventionallty were down. “You must not feel like that. You have nothing to reproach yeurself with,” he sald hastily, his past condemnation whelly forgotten, “You were so young, you naturally took the advics of others older and wiser than yourself.' ‘““Fhat does not clear me from responsi- bility. We canpot put our sins off on other people. I have grown to know this lately. 1 gave up a friend because I hadn't the courage to be loyal to him.” “Poor Alec! He hadn’t the strength of will to be true to you, but he always loved you dearly.” They were interrupted by the ringing of a bell. That bell seémed to Lucy like the symbol of her wholé life. She started to her feet; Bridget was out and Letitia needed her. “I must go to Letitia,” she sald. “I thought he would never leave,” Letitia complained as Lucy entered the room. *“It seems he doesn’t know when to g0 any better than hé used to. He has been here forty minutes by the clock. I didn’t suppose he would stay when he found I couldn’t see him. I ought to have had my ‘egg-nog at 4 and it Is twenty minutes past. I would not have rung for you, but I began to feel really faint and hopeless ‘as to his ever going away. Well, run along now, and make me my egs- nog.” T ‘When Lucy brought it up fluffy with the lightly beaten egg, her sister said, “You are very good to do this for me, dear. I like your egg-nogs better than Bridge! they are lighter.” She tasted it: “It is perfectly delicious, only I should say that you forgot the salt.” “I did,” Lucy owned ruefully. “T'll run down and get it.” “Never mind. I don’t want to walt. It is very good without the salt. I merely reminded you of It for another time. Tell me, is Frank Hollis very much changed?” she asked, when her hunger was ap~ peased. He has grown stout and gray, and he ig rather bald, but he seemed just the same person inside.” “Inside? What a strange girl you are!” “I mean that his being gray and middles aged seems an accident. He is young at heart,” “If there is one thing that I dislike more than another, it is your young, middls~ aged person.” said Letitia. “I have been making my plans for to-morrow nighg, Deborah is so set she will be sure to op= pose me, and we will have to use a greag deal of tact. I want Frank Hollis to see that we have not stood still while the world has moved, and I am going to bors row Laura Macauley’s candlesticks and pink shades.” “Mr. Hollis is the most informal sort of person,” Lucy afirmed. “I dom’t believe he would care or even notice how the table looked."” “He would take in the general effect. § want quail on toast for tea. Deborah does not care for quail, but they are the propes thing. Laura always has them and I am very fond of quail. We will get haf a dozen, and there will be twa left that you and I can have for our dinner the next day. Here comes Deboran. Be sure to back me up, dear.” Deborah stoutly refused to borrow Laura Macauley's candlesticks. “The idea of making a splurge for Frank Hollls!” she exclaimed. “It is ab- surd!” Letitia had her way In the end, as usual, but it was only after a wearing discussion, and she was obliged to dis- patch Lucy to the Macauleys for the cans dlesticks. When the long-expected hour came and Frank Hollls entered his old friend’s house, with the delightful prospect of a whole evening spent in her soclety, it was Deborah who greeted him, for Letitia had not yet come down. It was a chilly day and all the windows were closed in the cheertul parlor and a fire was burning on the hearth. The room felt close, and Mp: Hollis glanced involuntarily at the thers mometer, which stood at 76. “It is frightfully hot,” Deborah observ ed sympathetically. “I will open the win- dows wide for a moment. Letitia and ¥ are lke Jack Sprat and his wife. She does not like a breath of air, and I feel as it I were going to have an attack of apoplexy without it. Here comes Letitia," she added presently. “Shut the window: quick, Frank.” For one moment her hair so thickly streaked with gray and her colorless com~ plexion gave him a sharp sense of pain; after that he was ready to admit that sh was still a handsome woman. She had the same slender figure, and If the haughty inclination of her head seemed to be more habitual with her than when she was a girl, and the smile to have grown less frequently, it was no less gracious ‘when it came. ‘Haven't the windows been opened i this room?’ was Letitia’s first questiom. She fixed her eyes on gullty Deborah. “Only for a minute.” “1 feel the dampness. I am sorry to be so_troublesome, but I shall have to a you to put on another stick of wood to get me my white Chuddah shawl.” Luecy came in just then, and after a fow minutes they went out into the dining~ room. Mr. Hollis was struek by the mod- ern air of the table, with the four silver candlesticks and their pink shades, while the lettuce with & French dressing and the quail on toast were an equal surprise to him. He was very hungry, and feit ob» trusively masculine as he seated himseif between Letitia and Deborah, and tried to assume an indifference to food that he did not feel. As the meal proceeded it ‘was evident to the Reverend Francis Hol- lis that there was to be nothing note- worthy In his conversation with Letitia until they were alone. Deborah did most of the talking, and with her ready wit and piquant figures of s was always amusing. He wondered she had never im-~ pressed him more in the old days. “Will you have snother quall?” Miss Deborah asked him, when a discussion on anti-imperialism had begun to languish. Something In Letitia's expression warn- ed him that Deborah’s question had been indiscreet, and that he ought to reply In the negative. but he found himself say- ing: “I will. I feel very apologetic, bringing my man’s appetite in among all you ladies.” “Frank, you are a great comfort fo me,” said Miss Deborah. “I have s map'y appetite myself, and quail never satisfles it, but I couldn’t ask for cold beef far myself alone. Bridget, please bring fn some slices of cold beef for Mr. Hollls and m¢ Letitia’s face told him plainly that he would write himself out of her good books if he helped himself to cold beef; nevertheless he went boldly over to De- borah's side. He remembered one or two oceasicns in their childhood when he and Deborah had been partners In scrapes long before he had fallen in love with Le. titia. Letitia, . he remembered, had been rather an aggravating little girl. Frank and Deborah joked merrily and talked of thelr childhood as they ate the cold beef, He was sure that those with their pink shades, had never ems- nated from Deborah’s brain. Letitla had grown silent. He knew she was @lspleas- ed with him. Letitia’s silence had been a more formidable weapon than open anger of other women. How hang- some’ she looked! She had a little color now, and he was beginning to like her gray hair. ‘When tea was over the sisters alipped away, one at a time, just as they had done in the 0ld days when there had been twice as many of them, and Franels Hel- lis found himself alone with Letitia. longed to get close to her inner geif, to know what the years had brought her, but she continued to keep him at arm's iength. He had never feit near her, sven v/hen his love was the greatest, but them he had supposed this was because of his inferiority. Now he was puzzied. Those beautiful eyes with their unfathom.able expression suggested a deep nature. He telt that she was too reserved to confide in any one, and that she had passed through childhood and youth to middle age, a solitary figure, asking neither ad- vice nor sympathy. “Those wers the good " he stated, “]I never see & young man starting out in life that I don't feel & great senpe of envy.” “I see no reason to regrst youth,” said Let'tia, leaning back gracefully and drawing her white shawl about her, “Yeuth is a time of strain and stress, when we long for the impossible. As we STGW older, If we are moderately unself- ish, we find our interest centering in other people. Middle age is far more restful time of life.” “You were always reasonable, Letitia. For myself, I would give anything in the world to be young again.” “I ean understand feeling so If h:‘ hag ‘wasted one’s opportunities, but w! peo- ple have done useful work in the world and have as little to regret as you and I have, why is not one period of life as satisfying as another?”’ Continued on Page Six.