CHAPTER XII
A MEETING
The New Springs had been so christened about a hundred years before,when a restless pioneer family had moved westward and upward from theOld Springs, thirty miles away, at the foot of the great forest-cladrange. The New Springs had been a deer-lick, and apparently, fromthe number of arrowheads forever being unearthed, a known regionto the Indians. Now the Indians were gone, and the deer fast, fastwithdrawing. Occasionally buck or doe was shot, but for the most partthey were phantoms of the past. So with the bear who used to come downto the corncribs in the lonely clearings. Bear Mountain still rose darkblue, like a wall, and the stark cliff called Bear's Den caught thefirst ray of the sun, but the bears themselves were seldom seen. Theyalso were phantoms of the past. But the fish stayed in the mountainstreams. There were many streams and many fish,--bright, speckledmountain trout, darting and flashing among pools and cascades, now seenin the sunlight, now lurking by fern-crowned rocks, in the shadow ofthe dark hemlock spruce. The region was Fisherman's Paradise.
It was almost an all-day's climb from the nearest railway station tothe New Springs. You took the stage in the first freshness of themorning; you went gaily along for a few miles through a fair grazingcountry; then the stage began to climb, and it climbed and climbeduntil you wondered where and when the thing was going to stop. Everynow and then driver and passengers got down and walked. Here it wasshady, with wonderful banks of rhododendron, with ferns and overhangingtrees, and here it was sunny and hot, with the wood scrub or burned,and the only interesting growth huckleberries and huckleberries andhuckleberries, dwarf under the blazing sun, with butterflies flittingover them. Up here you had wonderful views; you saw a sea of mountains,tremendous, motionless waves; the orb as it had wrinkled when manand beast and herb were not. At last, somewhere on the long crest,having been told that you must bring luncheon with you and havingprovided yourself at the railway station with cold bread and fruitand hard-boiled eggs, you had luncheon. It was eaten near a bubblingspring with a water-trough at which the horses were drinking, and eatenwith the most tremendous appetite. By now you were convinced that theair up here was blowing through a champagne bottle. Luncheon over andthe horses rested, on went the stage. Quite in the mid-afternoon youbegan to go down the mountain. Somewhat later, in a turn by a buckwheatfield waving white in the summer wind, the driver would point with hiswhip--"Right down there--there's the New Springs! Be there in an hournow."
It might be "right down there," but still the New Springs was prettyhigh in the world, away, away above sea level. You always slept atthe New Springs under blankets, you nearly always had a fire in theevening; even the heat of the midday sun in the dog days was onlya dry, delightful warmth. Hardly anywhere did the stars shine sobrightly, the air was so rare and fine.
The New Springs boasted no imposing dwellings. There was a hotel,of faint, old, red brick, with a pillared verandah, and there werehalf a dozen one-story frame cottages, each with a small porch andgrowing over it its individual vine. Honeysuckle clambered over one,and hops over another, and a scarlet bean over a third, and so on.There was an ice-cold sulphur spring where the bubbles were alwaysrising, and around it was built a rustic pavilion. Also there existeda much-out-of-repair bowling-alley.
"Yes, there's the New Springs," said the driver, pointing with hiswhip. "But, Lord! it stopped being new a long time ago."
There were hardly any passengers to-day; only three in fact: two womenand a man. All three were young enough to accomplish with enjoymenta great deal of walking up the long mountain. They had laughed andtalked together, though of very nothings as became just-met folk. Thebirds and the bees and butterflies, the flowers, the air, and the viewhad been the chief subjects of comment. Now, back in the stage forthe descent, they held in their hands flowers and ferns and branchescovered with ripe huckleberries which they detached from the stems,lifted to their lips and ate. The two women were friends, coming, sothey now explained to their fellow-traveller, from a distance to thislittle out-of-the-way place. The brother of one, it seemed, was a greatfisherman and came often. He was not here this year; he was travellingin Palestine; but he had advised his sister, who was a little brokendown and wanted a quiet place to work in, to come here. She said,jubilantly, that if the air was always going to be like this she wasglad she had come. It had seemed funny, at first, to think of comingSouth for the summer--though her friend was half-Southern and didn'tmind.
"I'm wondering," said the fellow-traveller, with an effect ofgallantry, "what in the world the work can be! The very latest thing,I suppose, in fancy-work--or perhaps you do pastels?"
Elizabeth Eden looked at him with her very candid grey eyes. "I'm doinga book of statistics--women and children in industry."
"And I," said the other, Marie Caton, "I teach English to immigrantgirls. We are both Settlement workers."
Laydon prided himself on his ability quickly to shift sail. "Oh!" hesaid; "a Settlement! That's an idea that hasn't got down to us yet.We are rather lazy, I suppose.--I was reading, though, an excellentarticle upon Settlements in one of the current magazines only theother day. Ladies, especially, seem to be going in for that kind ofwork;--of course, it is, when you think of it, only an extension oftheir historic function as 'loaf-giver.' Charity and Woman--they'realmost synonymous."
"That's a magnificent compliment--or meant to be!" said Marie Caton.Her eyes were dancing. "I wonder what you'd say if I said thatcharity--charity in your sense--is one of woman's worst weaknesses?Thank God Settlements, bad as they are, aren't charity!"
"Look at the view, Marie," said Elizabeth. "And, oh! feel that wind!Isn't it divine?"
"Winds blow from all four points at oncet up here," said the driver."Ain't many people at the New Springs this summer. Fish don't bite,or everybody's gone to the World's Fair, or something or other! Ain'tmore'n forty people, countin' children."
"What kind of people are they? Do the women fish, too?"
"No, ma'am, not much. It's the husbands and brothers and fathersdoes the fishing mostly--though there's Mrs. Josslyn. _She_ fishes.The others just sit around in rocking-chairs, I reckon, and crochet.Them that has children looks after them, and them that hasn't listensto them that has. Then it's a fine air for the health; fine air andfine water. A lot of tired people come. Then there's others get intothe habit of meeting friends here. Being on the border, as it were,it's convenient for more states than one. Colonel Ashendyne, forinstance,--he comes because General Argyle and Judge Black and he madea pact in the war that if they lived through they'd spend a monthtogether every two years until they died. They've kept it faithful, andbecause Judge Black's a great fisherman, and General Argyle likes thejuleps they make here, and Colonel Ashendyne knew the place when he wasa boy, they pitched on the New Springs. When they're here together,they're the three Kings.--Git up thar, Dandy!--This year the Colonel'sgot his daughter and granddaughter with him."
Laydon nodded, looking animated and handsome. "I know the Ashendynes.Indeed--but that is neither here nor there. The Ashendynes," heexplained for the benefit of the two foreigners, "are one of ouroldest families, with connections everywhere; not wealthy,--we havevery little wealth, you know,--but old, very widespread and honoured.A number of them in the past were really famous. It might be said ofthe Ashendynes as it was said of an English family--'All the sons werebrave and all the daughters virtuous.'"
"You seem," said Marie Caton, "to have a profound acquaintance with thebest literature."
Laydon disclaimed it with a modest shake of the head. "Oh, only so-so!However, literature is my profession. I have a chair of Belles-Lettres."
"That is interesting," said Elizabeth in her friendly voice. "Is ityour vacation? Are you a fisherman, too?"
"Oh, I fish a little on occasion! But I am not what you call a greatfisherman. And I was never at the New Springs before." He gave ahalf-boyish, embarrassed laugh. "To tell the truth, I am one of thosepersons who've come because another person happens to be here--"
"Oh!"
said Marie Caton, "I see!" She began presently to hum beneath herbreath--
"Gin a body meet a body, Comin' through the rye--"
"Oh, what a rough piece of road!"
"It ain't often mended," said the driver. "They say times ischanging,--there was a fellow through here last summer said they waschanging so rapid they made you dizzy,--but there ain't much changegotten round to Bear Mountain. I remember that identical rut there whenI was just a little shaver.--Look out, now, on that side, and you'llsee the New Springs again! We ain't more'n a mile an' a half away now.The ladies often walk up here to see the sunset."
"There's one coming up the road now," said Marie Caton, "In a greengingham and a shady hat."
"That," said the driver, "'ll be Miss Hagar--Colonel Ashendyne'sgranddaughter. She and me's great friends. Come by here 'most anyevenin' and you'll find her sittin' on the big rock there, lookin' awayto Kingdom Come."
"Stop a minute," spoke Laydon, "and let me out here. I know MissAshendyne. I'll wait here to meet her and walk back to the Springs withher."
He lifted his hat to his fellow-travellers and the stage went onwithout him. "A nice, clean-looking man," said Elizabeth who wasinveterate at finding good; "not very original, but then who is?"
"I can't answer it," said Marie promptly. "Now we'll see the girl!She's coming up straight and light, like a right mountain climber."The stage met and passed Hagar, she and the driver exchanging"Good-evenings!" The stage lumbered on down the slope. "I liked herlooks," said Marie. "Now, they're meeting--"
"Don't look back."
"All right, I won't. I'd like such consideration myself.--Betsy, Betsy!You are going to get strong enough at the New Springs to throw everystatistic between Canada and Mexico!"
Back beside the big rock at the bend of the road, Hagar and Laydon met."There isn't any one to see!" he exclaimed, and would have taken her inhis arms.
She evaded his grasp, putting out her hand and a light staff whichshe carried. "No, Mr. Laydon! Wait--wait--" Stepping backward to therock by the wayside she sat down upon it, behind her all the waves ofthe Endless Mountains. "I only got your letter yesterday. It had beendelayed. If I had had it in time, I should have written to you not tocome."
"I told you in it," smiled Laydon, "that I was not afraid of yourgrandfather. He can't eat me. The New Springs is as much mine to cometo as it is his. I had just three days before I go to ---- to see aboutthat opening there. The idea came to me that if I could really see himand talk to him, he might become reconciled. And then, dear littlegirl! I wanted to see you! I couldn't resist--"
As he spoke he moved toward her again. She shook her head and put outagain the hand with the staff. "No. That is over.... I came up hereto meet you because I wanted to find out--to know--to be certain, atonce--"
"To find out--to know--to be certain of what?" He smiled. "That I amjust the same?--That I love you still?"
"To be certain," said Hagar, "that I was mistaken.... I have got mycertainty."
"I wish," said Laydon, after a pause, "that I knew what you weredriving at. There was something in your last month's letter, and forthe matter of that in the month before, that struck cold. Have Ioffended you in any way, Hagar?"
"You have not been to blame," said Hagar. "I don't think either ofus was to blame. I think it was an honest mistake. I think we took apassing lightning flash for the sun in heaven.... Mr. Laydon, thatevening in the parlour at Eglantine and the morning after, when wewalked to the gate, and the road was sunny and lonely and the bellswere ringing, oh, then I am sure I loved you--" She drew her handacross brow and eyes. "Or, if not you, I loved--Love! But after that,oh, steadily after that, it lessened--"
"'Lessened'!--You mean that you are not in love with me as you were?"
"I am not in love with you at all. I was in love with you, or.... Iwas in love. I am not now." She struck her staff against the rock. "Ialmost hope I'll never be in love again!"
Across from a cleared hillside, steep and grassy, came a tinkling ofsheep-bells. The sun hung low in the west and the trees cast shadowsacross the road. A vireo was singing in a walnut tree, a chipmunk ranalong a bit of old rail fence. A zephyr brought an odour dank and rich,from the aged forest that hung above.
"I think," said Laydon, "that you are treating me very badly."
"Am I? I am sorry.... You mustn't think that I haven't been wretchedover all this. But it would be treating you badly, indeed, if I weresuch a coward as to let it go on." She looked at him oddly. "Will yoube--Are you much hurt?"
"I--I--" said Laydon. "I do not think you quite conceive what you aresaying, nor what such a cool pronunciamento must mean to a man! Hurt?Yes, I am hurt. My pride--my confidence in you--my assurance that I hadyour heart and that you had put your life in my keeping--the love thatI truly felt for you--"
"'Felt.'--You loved me, loving you. Oh," said Hagar, "I feel so old--soold!"
"I loved you sincerely. I imperilled my position for you--to a certainextent, all my prospects in life. I had delightful visions of the daywhen we should be finally together--the home you would make--the loveand protection I should give you--"
"You are honest," said Hagar, "and I like honesty. If I have doneyou any wrong at all, if I have made life any harder for you, if Ihave destroyed any ideals, if I have done you the least harm, I veryheartily beg your pardon."
Laydon drew from his pocket a small box and opened it. "I had broughtyou that--"
Hagar took it in her hand and looked at it. "It is lovely!" she said."A diamond and a sapphire! And it isn't going to be wasted. You keepit. Sooner or later you'll surely need it. You couldn't have bought aprettier one." She looked up with a soft, bright, almost maternal face."You don't know how much happier I am having faced it, and said it, andhad it over with! And you--I don't believe you are so unhappy! Now areyou--now are you?"
"You have put me in an absurd position. What am I to say--"
"To people? Nothing--or what you please. I will tell grandfathermyself, to-night--and Aunt Serena. I shall tell them that you havebehaved extremely well, and that it was all my fault. Or no! I shalltell them that we both found out that we had been mistaken, for I thinkthat that is the truth. And that we have had an explanation, and arenow and for always just well-wishers and common friends and nothingmore. I am going to try--I think that now maybe I can do it--to getgrandfather to treat you properly. There is nobody else here whosebusiness it is, or who knows anything about it--and you have onlythree days anyway. There are some pleasant people, and you'll meetthem. It isn't going to be awkward, indeed, it isn't--"
"By George!" said Laydon, "if you aren't the coolest.... Of course,if this is the way you feel, it may be wisest not to link my lifewith--Naturally a man wants entire love, admiration, and confidence--"
"Just so," said Hagar. "And you'll find some one to feel all that. Andnow let's walk to the New Springs."