CHAPTER XIII
JACK
A HUISACHE tree leaned over the old stone wall which separated the Herdtpasture from the road, and here Phil took his stand. He had started tofind the bee-tree, following Mrs. Ware's directions, but shrill littlevoices floating across the meadow, made him pause. It was evident thatMary and her small charges were somewhere near.
A moment later they came in sight, and for once in her life Mary movedon towards a meeting, often rehearsed in thought, which did not endridiculously. It would have been joy to her soul could she have seenherself as she looked to Phil, coming across the field of blue-bonnets.The fresh blue and white dress she wore, repeated the color of the wavesof bloom through which she waded. Sister had twined a wreath of the sameflowers around the crown of her Mexican hat, and she carried a greatsheaf of them across one arm. The inevitable alarm clock swung from theother hand.
Brud was carrying a butterfly net, Sister as a great favor held Matilda,and Meliss brought up the rear with the big basket of blue-bonnets,which they had gathered as a special act of courtesy for the Guildladies. Their voices blended happily as they drew nearer, but when theywere close enough for Phil to distinguish their words the processionstood still. They had reached the place where a path crossed the onethey were following, and the cross-path was a short cut to thefoot-bridge.
"Here's the parting of the ways," called Mary gaily. "So run along withMeliss, now, and be sure to give Mrs. Rochester my message."
"We will," answered Brud, in a voice that was almost a happy littlesqueal it was so high and eager, "and we'll have another good timeto-morrow! _Won't_ we, Miss Mayry?"
"Indeed we will," was the answer, given so heartily and convincingly,that it was easy to see how she had obtained her hold on the two littlefriends who seemed so loath to leave her. They stood talking a moment,then Sister deposited the kitten on Mary's armful of flowers, with afarewell squeeze, and the parting ceremony began. Four voices, forMeliss was taking the part of the Black Panther this afternoon, repeatedgravely and distinctly the words of their daily benediction:
"Wind and water, wood and tree, Wisdom, strength and courtesy, _Jungle favor go with thee_!"
Then Mary called as they started down the path, "Good-bye, Mowgli andMowglina! Good-bye, Panther," and a trio of happy voices answered,"Good-bye, Baloo!"
It was a childish performance, but Brud and Sister went through theirpart so seriously, as if it had been an incantation of some kind, thatPhil did not smile as he watched the little by play. It was proof to himthat Mary had accomplished what she had set out to do. She had inspiredthem with an ambition to always "keep tryst" just as Edryn's window hadinspired her.
Feeling that she had had a particularly satisfactory afternoon, Maryanswered their last wave with a swing of the hand that held the clock,and started on towards the stone wall. If her attention had not beenengrossed by her efforts to hold the big armful of blue-bonnets, theclock and the squirming kitten without dropping one of the three, shewould have seen Phil stepping out from the shadow of the huisache tomeet her. But the kitten struggled out of her arms and climbed up onher shoulder, catching its claws in her collar, and biting playfully ather chin.
"Matilda, you little mischief!" scolded Mary affectionately, "How am Iever going to get over this stone wall with you acting so?"
"Come on! I'll help you!" spoke up Phil from the other side.
The expression of utter amazement which spread over her face when shelooked up and saw him standing in front of her was even more amusingthan he had anticipated it would be. Despite Jack's hints and the factthat they had set her to picturing Phil's possible coming, the surpriseof his actual presence was so overwhelming that she could scarcelyspeak.
She let him take the clock and the wildcat from her, and put them downon his side of the wall with the flowers, but not until she had climbedto the top of the wall and felt the firm clasp of his hands,outstretched to help her down, did she persuade herself that she was notdreaming. Then the face that she turned towards him fairly beamed, andhe thought as he looked down at her that it was well worth the longjourney, to find some one so genuinely glad to see him.
"When did you come? Have you been to the house? Was Jack very muchsurprised?"
The questions poured out in a steady stream as soon as she found hervoice, and if he had not been looking at her, he could have wellbelieved that she was the same amusing child she was when he found herrunning away from the Indian on the desert road to Lee's ranch. But hecould not look away long enough to keep up the illusion. There was acharm about her face which drew his eyes irresistibly back to it. Hetried to determine just what that charm was. It was not of feature, formuch as she had improved, she did not at all measure up to his standardof beauty.
Presently he decided that it was just Mary's own self, her interesting,original personality shining out through her eyes and speaking throughevery movement of her mobile lips, which made her so attractive. Heryears of effort to grow up to her ideal of all that was sweet andmaidenly had left their imprint on her face. Naturally unselfish,trouble and hard times had broadened her sympathies and taught her astill deeper consideration for others. Loneliness and a dearth ofamusement had developed her own resources for entertainment, and taughther to find something of interest in every object and person about her.As he looked at her he thought it a pity that more of the girls of hisacquaintance couldn't have a course in the same hard school ofexperience which had developed Mary into such a lovable and interestingcharacter. He felt that in the one year since he had seen her last, shehad grown so far past his knowledge of her, that it would be well worthwhile to cultivate her acquaintance further.
It was some distance from the pasture to the cottage, and as theywalked, Phil had time to tell her of his trip to Warwick Hall, and todeliver the mixture of messages from the girls, which by this time hadresolved into a ridiculous hotch-potch, despite his effort to keep themseparate, and his reference to the memorandum that Betty had given him.Then he presented the ivy leaf which he had plucked for her, as proofthat he had actually walked in her beloved garden.
Up to that time there had been so much to say that Mary had notdiscovered that Doctor Tremont was in Bauer also. The explanation cameabout when they reached the gate, and Phil, after opening it for her topass through, stayed on the outside himself. Her surprise at his notcoming in was fully as great as it had been when she first saw him.
"The idea of your going to a hotel when you've come all the way from NewYork to Texas to see us!" she exclaimed. "And then not even staying tosupper! Jack will be _so_ disappointed."
"No," answered Phil. "He knows the reason why Daddy and I are putting upat the hotel. So does your mother, and they both think it is a good one.You run along in and ask them, and they'll convince you that I am right.I'll come over for a few minutes after supper though, just to show youthat there's no hard feeling between us."
He laughed as he said it, lifting his hat and turning away. Thoroughlymystified by his manner, Mary stood a moment looking after him. It wasall so strange and unreal, his sudden appearance, and then his walkingoff in such a mysterious way. She could hardly believe the evidence ofher own eyes. Yet the tall, handsome figure striding down the road wasnot "of such stuff as dreams are made on." Her fingers still tingledwith the warm clasp of the strong hands that had helped her over thewall.
When she went into the house it was Jack who told her of his comingordeal, and he told her in a way to make it seem of little consequence.He said that Doctor Tremont wanted to experiment on him. He had knownof a man injured in the same way, whose suffering had been entirelyrelieved by the removal of a fragment of bone which pressed on thespinal cord. It would be worth while to go through almost anything to berid of the excruciating pain he had suffered at times, and DoctorTremont assured him that it would pass away entirely if the operationproved successful.
Not a word did he say about the greater hope that had been held out tohim. As the time drew near he was beginni
ng to lose faith in its beingpossible. It seemed too great a miracle for him to expect it to bewrought for him.
Mary went out to find her mother in a daze of mingled emotions. Theprospect of Jack's being freed from the pain that had racked him formonths made her inexpressibly happy, but she had a horror of operations.The nurse they had in Lone Rock after Jack's first one, had spent hourstelling grewsome details of those she had known which were notsuccessful. Or if they were successful from the surgeon's viewpoint, thepatients usually died from shock, later.
She wanted to stay in Jack's room every minute of the time after sheheard what was to be done, for she had a sickening foreboding that itmight be the last evening he would be able to talk to them. Still shewas so nervous that she was afraid her frame of mind might becontagious. She wondered how her mother could sit there so calmly,talking of the trivial things that filled the round of their days, justas if to-morrow were going to be like all the commonplace yesterdays.
It was a relief to her when Phil came back, according to promise, andturned their thoughts into other channels for awhile. As he rose to go,Jack motioned to a letter lying on the table beside him, and asked Philto post it on his way back to the hotel. Phil slipped it into hispocket, barely glancing at the envelope as he did so. It was addressedin such a big plain hand that the "Miss Elizabeth Lewis" on it, caughthis attention as if the words had called out to him. Several otherletters lying on the edge of the table fell to the floor as Phil's coatbrushed them in passing. He stooped mechanically to pick them up, for hewas busy talking, and without being conscious of having noted theaddress, laid them back on the table. But afterwards it occurred to himthat they were all addressed to Jack, and by the same hand that had madethe memorandum for him, about the girls whom he met at Warwick Hall.
Mary wondered afterwards how she ever could have lived through the nextmorning had it not been for Phil. She was all right as long as there wasanything to do, or while she sat listening to Doctor Tremont talk to hermother and the local physician, Doctor Mackay. But as soon as AlexShelby arrived with the nurse she fell into such a tremor of nervousnessthat she could scarcely keep from shaking as if she had a chill.
There was a cluster of umbrella trees in the farthest corner of theyard, and carrying some chairs out to their dense shade Phil called herto come and sit with him there. He had a glove that was ripped and hehoped she would take pity on him and sew it up. She understood perfectlywell his object in putting her to work, and although her hands trembledat first so that she could barely thread a needle, she had toacknowledge inwardly that it was easier to compose herself when herhands were busy. One finger was ripped the entire length, so it took along time to mend it neatly; to buttonhole the edges on each side, andthen draw the stitches together in a seam that was stronger than theoriginal one.
Gradually she became so interested in her task and what Phil was tellingher of his adventures in the past year, that she stopped glancing everymoment towards the house, and no longer jumped nervously at every sound.Once or twice she smiled at something he told her; something that wouldhave been uproariously funny if she had heard it at any other time. Justnow she could not forget the fact that Jack was lying unconscious underthe surgeon's knife, and the stories the Lone Rock nurse had told hercame back to haunt her with terrifying suggestions.
"I am to meet your friend, Miss Gay Melville," Phil said, when they hadbeen sitting there a long time. "Shelby is to take Daddy and me up tothe Post to-night, to dine at her house. The Major came down to thetrain with him when he met us yesterday morning, and delivered theinvitation in person. He's a hospitable old duck, the Major. He's kin tosome people that are intimate friends of Daddy's and he's almost readyto adopt us both into his family on the strength of it. Alex told me onthe side that I am invited specially to meet a very particular chum ofhis fiancee's, Miss Roberta somebody, I can't remember the name. MissMelville thinks I will find her my affinity, judging by what she knowsof her and has heard of me."
"Roberta Mayrell," prompted Mary. "Oh, I don't think you'll find her_that_! She's a fascinating sort of girl, but she's such a differenttype from--I mean--I think. Well--" She was floundering desperately toturn her sentence. "I can't imagine you'd care for her to the _affinity_point."
What she had almost said was, "She's such a different type from theLittle Colonel." She had remembered just in time that she was notsupposed to know about that affair. Had she not been an unintentionaleaves-dropper she could not have heard his offer to Lloyd of the unsetturquoise, and all that followed.
Phil noticed her embarrassment and wondered what caused it, but thesubject was immediately forgotten. The door they had been watching solong opened at last, and Doctor Tremont came out and stood on the step.Phil beckoned, and he came across to the clump of umbrella trees wherethey were sitting. One glance at his face showed Mary that she hadnothing to fear. He stood with his hand on Phil's shoulder as he saidkindly,
"It's all good news, Mary. We found exactly the state of affairs that Iexpected. If he follows the other case on record, it will not be longtill he is as strong and husky and active as this young rascal here."
He gave Phil's shoulder an affectionate grip. Mary looked up at himtrying to comprehend all she had heard.
"Strong--and husky and active--as Phil?" she repeated in dull wonder."You can't mean that he--will ever be able--to _walk_?"
The question came in dry, sobbing gasps.
"Yes, just that."
She stood up. The news was so stupendous, the reaction so great thateverything turned black. She sat down again giddily. The sympatheticfaces, the trees, everything seemed to be whirling around and around.She heard Phil's voice, but it sounded as if it were miles away.
"Brace up, little Vicar! You're surely not going limp now, just whenfortune is making such a tremendous turn in your favor."
"No," she said, shaking herself and fighting off the faintness. Such afeeling had never assailed her before, and she did not know what to makeof it. "You see, nobody ever told me--I didn't know such a heavenlything was possible! I can't believe it yet. Oh, are you _sure_?"
She looked up into the strong, calm face of the gray-haired old surgeon,as if his answer meant life or death.
"As sure as any one can be about any operation," he answered. "He haseverything in his favor; there is the clean life he has always led, backof him; his splendid constitution, the fine aseptic air of these hills.Everything is favorable. The paralysis and all the other trouble wascaused by one thing. We have removed the cause, and I see no reason whyhe should not recover completely in time. He has rallied from theanesthetic, and is so happy over the result, so buoyantly hopeful, thatthat of itself, with his dogged determination to get well, will go along distance toward pulling him through."
The tears were rolling down Mary's cheeks, but she did not know it, nordid she know that her face was ashine at the same time with the inwardlight of a joy too great for telling.
"To think that he'll be able to _walk_ again!" she exclaimed over andover, as if trying to grasp the greatness of such a fact. "And _you_ didit! Oh, Doctor Tremont! There isn't anything good enough in heaven orearth, for the hand that could bring a happiness like that to my brotherJack!"
As she tried brokenly to express her gratitude, and the good old doctortried as hard to deny any obligation on her part, saying he had onlypartly squared himself with the Wares, Phil slipped away. The scene wascoming near to upsetting his own equanimity. Besides he had sometelegrams to send. There were three and save for the address they wereidentically the same:
"Operation successful. Every reason to expect complete and rapidrecovery."
Stuart Tremont received his just as he was driving in at the gate of hiscountry place. A messenger boy on a wheel handed him the yellowenvelope. He hurried into the house, catching up little Patricia, andswinging her to his shoulder as she ran to meet him. Eugenia was comingdown the stairs.
"Good news!" he cried boyishly. "Hurrah for Daddy! He's brought the yearof jubilee
to the Ware family, root and branch."
"To say nothing of the professional laurels he has added to the house ofTremont," Eugenia answered. "Sometimes I'm tempted to wish you hadn'tfollowed in his footsteps, Stuart, and chosen such a hard life. But whenI think what just one cure like that means, I wouldn't have you anythingelse in the world than what you are, for all the kingdoms of the earth.Oh, I'm so glad for all of them! Joyce will be nearly wild with joy. Shehas been so broken up over Jack's condition ever since the accident,that now her happiness will be something good to see. I must try to goin to the city for a short call before we start West."
Joyce's happiness _was_ good to see. When her telegram came she wasstarting out of the studio on her way to an interview with the arteditor of a magazine that had published one of her sketches. She couldnot turn back because the appointed hour was too near at hand and theinterview too important. So she stood in the corridor after she left theelevator, wiping away her happy tears until she was composed enough togo out on the street. And because she had to share her good news withsome one, she told the janitor's wife. The hearty sympathy of thatmotherly Irish woman sent her away as if she were treading on air.
The art editor, who dimly remembered her as a very quiet, reserved younggirl, wondered at the transformation when she came into his office,looking like the very incarnation of Joy. She had been afraid of thestern, forbidding man before, saying to Henrietta that she alwaysexpected him to bark at her. But to-day, to her own surprise as well ashis, she found herself telling him her good news, just as she had pouredit out to the janitor's wife, because she couldn't help it. That hiscongratulations should be quite as hearty as Mrs. Phelan's caused herno surprise then, for at the moment Jack's recovery seemed such amiracle that she felt the whole world must be interested in hearing ofit. But she wondered afterwards what he must have thought of her forpouring out her confidences to him about Jack as impulsively as if hehad been an old friend instead of a stranger.
Had she only known it, that impulsive outburst aroused a friendlyinterest in her that the reserved man rarely felt in struggling youngartists, and he bought all the sketches she had with her. An hourbefore, that of itself would have been enough to send her back to thestudio rejoicing; but now it seemed such a drop in the bucket comparedto the news she had for Mrs. Boyd and Lucy and Henrietta, that sheforgot to mention the little matter of the sale for several days.
There was some delay in the transmission of Betty's message. It did notreach her until nearly sundown. She was passing through the lower hallon the way to the drawing-room, when the envelope was put into herhands. The house suddenly seemed to grow stifling. She needed all out ofdoors to breathe in. So running down the marble steps to the river, shewalked along to the circular seat surrounding the old willow. With thetree between herself and the Hall, she looked out across the Potomac,that a gorgeous sunset was turning into a river of gold.
The slip of paper fluttered in her fingers but she feared to read it.Such life-long tragedies can be told sometimes in the short space of tenwords. But at last she summoned courage to glance at the message, afterwhich she read it through slowly, several times.
Then looking up above the shining of the river to the glory of thesunset sky beyond, she whispered softly, as she had always done sinceshe was a little child, in the great moments of her life, "_Thank you,dear God!_"
The same afternoon Doctor Tremont and Phil and Alex went to San Antonio,leaving the nurse and Doctor Mackay in charge of Jack. The Tremonts,after dining at Major Melville's, were to take the night train forCalifornia. They had promised Elsie to be with her as long as possiblebefore her wedding. She had seen little of Phil for several years. Hewas taking a month's vacation; the first long one since he started towork, in order to spend the most of it with her in the old Gold-of-Ophirrose-garden, that had been their earliest playground. Doctor Tremontdid not expect to come back to Bauer, but Phil promised to stop off fora few days on his return trip, which would be in a little less thanthree weeks.
After the departure of their guests the family settled down to waitpatiently and happily for time to finish the process of healing. Sincesuch great cause for thanksgiving had come to them, the small ills thatevery one is heir to, almost lost the power to annoy. When Mary burnedherself badly with a hot iron, when she ruined her best dress byspilling a bottle of ink, when the little wildcat, which grew dearerevery day, was crippled so badly by a falling wood-pile that it had tobe put out of its misery, there were some tears and regrets; but theunfailing balm for everything was the thought: "_But Jack's gettingwell!_ Nothing else matters much."
As Spring deepened, the wild flowers grew still more abundant. Acres ofwild verbenas spread their royal purple underfoot, and the china-berrytrees hung answering pennons overhead of the same kingly color.Spider-wort starred the grass. Wine-cups held up their crimson chalicesalong every lane. Mexican blankets sported their gaudy stripes of redand yellow, and even the cacti, thorny and forbidding, burst intogorgeous bloom.
And then, just at Easter, a waxen blossom, snow-white, andsweet-breathed as the narcissus, sprang up all over the hills. Rainlilies, Miss Edna called them. Norman and Mary gathered great armfuls ofthem and carried them to Mrs. Rochester to put around the chancel. Theyseemed to suit the little country church far better than the florists'lilies would have done. The casement windows stood open, and Mary satlooking out through one of them, listening to the reading of the accountof the first Easter:
"_And very early in the morning, the first day of the week, they cameunto the sepulchre at the rising of the sun._"
But it was not the green Spring-time world outside she saw. It wasJack's face as she had caught a glimpse of it, earlier in the morning,when he lay listening to his mother read those same words. She had heardhim say in one of the pauses:
"Mother, sometimes I am so happy I don't see how I can endure suchblessedness! I've dreamed so many times that I was well, only to wakenand find it all a cruel mistake, that now when I realize it's reallygoing to be true--that life still holds everything for me--oh, I can'ttell you!" He broke off, a smile of ineffable happiness spreading overhis face. "Now I know how Lazarus felt when the stone was rolled awayand he heard the call 'Come forth!'"
That smile was still before Mary's eyes when the white-robed choir roseto sing, and she joined with all her heart in the chant, which swelledforth at the end of every line into a glad "_Alleluia!_"