and give me up for a little scene like that!"
"There is a great poem," said Elnora, "one line of which
reads, `For each man kills the thing he loves.' Let me
tell you that a woman can do that also. He did love you
--that I
concede. But you killed his love everlastingly,
when you disgraced him in public. Killed it so completely
he does not even feel
resentment toward you. To-day,
he would do you a favour, if he could; but love you, no!
That is over!"
Edith Carr stood truly regal and filled with scorn.
"You are mistaken! Nothing on earth could kill that!"
she cried, and Elnora saw that the girl really believed
what she said.
"You are very sure of yourself!" said Elnora.
"I have reason to be sure," answered Edith Carr.
"We have lived and loved too long. I have had years
with him to match against your days. He is mine!
His work, his ambitions, his friends, his place in
society are with me. You may have a summer charm for a
sick man in the country; if he tried placing you in
society, he soon would see you as others will. It takes
birth to position, schooling, and endless practice to meet
social demands
gracefully. You would put him to shame in
a week."
"I scarcely think I should follow your example so far,"
said Elnora dryly. "I have a feeling for Philip that
would prevent my hurting him purposely, either in public
or private. As for managing a social
career for him he
never mentioned that he desired such a thing. What he
asked of me was that I should be his wife. I understood
that to mean that he desired me to keep him a clean house,
serve him digestible food, mother his children, and give
him
lovingsympathy and tenderness."
"Shameless!" cried Edith Carr.
"To which of us do you intend that
adjective to apply?"
inquired Elnora. "I never was less
ashamed in all my life.
Please remember I am in my own home, and your presence here
is not on my invitation."
Miss Carr lifted her head and struggled with her veil.
She was very pale and trembling
violently, while Elnora
stood
serene, a faint smile on her lips.
"Such vulgarity!" panted Edith Carr. "How can a
man like Philip
endure it?"
"Why don't you ask him?" inquired Elnora. "I can
call him with one
breath; but, if he judged us as we stand,
I should not be the one to tremble at his decision.
Miss Carr, you have been quite plain. You have told me
in carefully selected words what you think of me.
You
insult my birth, education, appearance, and home.
I assure you I am
legitimate. I will pass a test examination
with you on any high school or supplementary branch,
or French or German. I will take a
physical examination
beside you. I will face any social
emergency you can
mention with you. I am acquainted with a whole world
in which Philip Ammon is
keenly interested, that you
scarcely know exists. I am not afraid to face any
audience you can get together
anywhere with my violin.
I am not repulsive to look at, and I have a
wholesome regard
for the proprieties and civilities of life. Philip Ammon
never asked anything more of me, why should you?"
"It is plain to see," cried Edith Carr, "that you took
him when he was hurt and angry and kept his wound wide open.
Oh, what have you not done against me?"
"I did not promise to marry him when an hour ago he
asked me, and offered me this ring, because there was so
much feeling in my heart for you, that I knew I never
could be happy, if I felt that in any way I had failed in
doing justice to your interests. I did slip on this ring,
which he had just brought, because I never owned one,
and it is very beautiful, but I made him no promise, nor
shall I make any, until I am quite, quite sure, that you
fully realize he never would marry you if I sent him away
this hour."
"You know
perfectly that if your puny hold on him
were broken, if he were back in his home, among his
friends, and where he was meeting me, in one short week
he would be mine again, as he always has been. In your
heart you don't believe what you say. You don't dare
trust him in my presence. You are afraid to allow him
out of your sight, because you know what the results
would be. Right or wrong, you have made up your mind
to ruin him and me, and you are going to be
selfish enough
to do it. But----"
"That will do!" said Elnora. "Spare me the enumeration
of how I will regret it. I shall regret nothing.
I shall not act until I know there will be nothing to regret.
I have
decided on my course. You may return to your friends."
"What do you mean?" demanded Edith Carr.
"That is my affair," replied Elnora. "Only this!
When your opportunity comes, seize it! Any time you
are in Philip Ammon's presence, exert the charms of which
you boast, and take him. I grant you are justified in
doing it if you can. I want nothing more than I want to
see you marry Philip if he wants you. He is just across
the fence under that automobile. Go spread your meshes
and exert your wiles. I won't stir to stop you. Take him
to Onabasha, and to Chicago with you. Use every art you possess.
If the old charm can be revived I will be the first to wish
both of you well. Now, I must return to my visitors.
Kindly excuse me."
Elnora turned and went back to the arbour. Edith Carr
followed the fence and passed through the gate into
the west woods where she asked Henderson about the car.
As she stood near him she whispered: "Take Phil back
to Onabasha with us."
"I say, Ammon, can't you go to the city with us and
help me find a shop where I can get this
pinion fixed?"
asked Henderson. "We want to lunch and start back by five.
That will get us home about
midnight. Why don't you
bring your automobile here?"
"I am a
working man," said Philip. "I have no time to
be out motoring. I can't see anything the matter with
your car, myself; but, of course you don't want to break
down in the night, on strange roads, with women on your hands.
I'll see."
Philip went into the arbour, where Polly took possession of
his lap, fingered his hair, and kissed his
forehead and lips.
"When are you coming to the
cottage, Phil?" she asked.
"Come soon, and bring Miss Comstock for a visit. All of
us will be so glad to have her."
Philip beamed on Polly. "I'll see about that," he said.
"Sounds pretty good. Elnora, Henderson is in trouble
with his automobile. He wants me to go to Onabasha
with him to show him where the doctor lives, and make
repairs so he can start back this evening. It will take
about two hours. May I go?"
"Of course, you must go," she said, laughing lightly.
"You can't leave your sister. Why don't you return to
Chicago with them? There is plenty of room, and you
could have a fine visit."
"I'll be back in just two hours," said Philip. "While I
am gone, you be thinking over what we were talking of
when the folks came."
"Miss Comstock can go with us as well as not," said Polly.
"That back seat was made for three, and I can sit on your lap."
"Come on! Do come!" urged Philip
instantly, and
Tom Levering joined him, but Henderson and Edith
silently waited at the gate.
"No, thank you," laughed Elnora. "That would crowd you,
and it's warm and dusty. We will say good-bye here."
She offered her hand to all of them, and when she came
to Philip she gave him one long steady look in the eyes,
then shook hands with him also.
CHAPTER XXIII
WHEREIN ELNORA REACHES A DECISION,
AND FRECKLES AND THE ANGEL APPEAR
Well, she came, didn't she?" remarked Mrs. Comstock
to Elnora as they watched the automobile speed down
the road. As it turned the Limberlost corner, Philip
arose and waved to them.
"She hasn't got him yet, anyway," said Mrs. Comstock,
taking heart. "What's that on your finger, and what did
she say to you?"
Elnora explained about the ring as she drew it off.
"I have several letters to write, then I am going to
change my dress and walk down toward Aunt Margaret's
for a little exercise. I may meet some of them, and I don't
want them to see this ring. You keep it until Philip
comes," said Elnora. "As for what Miss Carr said to me,
many things, two of importance: one, that I lacked every
social
requirement necessary for the happiness of Philip
Ammon, and that if I married him I would see inside a
month that he was
ashamed of me----"
"Aw, shockins!" scorned Mrs. Comstock. "Go on!"
"The other was that she has been engaged to him for
years, that he belongs to her, and she refuses to give
him up. She said that if he were in her presence one hour,
she would have him under a
mysterious thing she calls `her
spell' again; if he were where she could see him for one
week, everything would be made up. It is her o
pinionthat he is
suffering from wounded pride, and that the
slightest
concession on her part will bring him to his knees
before her."
Mrs. Comstock giggled. "I do hope the boy isn't weak-kneed,"
she said. "I just happened to be passing the west window
this afternoon----"
Elnora laughed. "Nothing save
actual knowledge ever
would have made me believe there was a girl in all this
world so infatuated with herself. She speaks casually of
her power over men, and boasts of `bringing a man to his
knees' as complacently as I would pick up a net and say:
`I am going to take a butterfly.' She
honestly believes
that if Philip were with her a short time she could rekindle
his love for her and
awaken in him every
particle of
the old
devotion. Mother, the girl is honest! She is
absolutely sincere! She so believes in herself and the
strength of Phil's love for her, that all her life she will
believe in and brood over that thought, unless she is
taught
differently. So long as she thinks that, she will
nurse wrong ideas and pine over her blighted life. She must
be taught that Phil is
absolutely free, and yet he will not go
to her."
"But how on earth are you proposing to teach her that?"
"The way will open."
"Lookey here, Elnora!" cried Mrs. Comstock. "That Carr
girl is the handsomest dark woman I ever saw. She's got
to the place where she won't stop at anything. Her coming
here proves that. I don't believe there was a thing
the matter with that automobile. I think that was a
scheme she fixed up to get Phil where she could see him
alone, as she worked to see you. If you are going