Read Mary Ware's Promised Land Page 22


  CHAPTER VIII

  HOW IT ALL ENDED

  When Mary's letter with the ring reached Phil, he was makingpreparations to leave New York that very day. Mr. Sherman had offeredhim a partnership in one of his enterprises, with headquarters inLouisville. It was a very flattering offer, still Phil hesitated.Personally, he preferred the position in the far West, which his formerchief had been urging him all winter to accept. His previous trainingfitted him for one as well as the other, but he had always loved theWest, always felt its lure.

  It was when he considered Mary, that Mr. Sherman's offer appealed to himmost. When he thought of the radiant delight with which she wouldreceive the news that they could cross over and take possession of herlong-desired land, he was almost persuaded to choose Kentucky, for thatone reason alone. He was fully persuaded the morning her letter arrived,and had just telegraphed Mr. Sherman that he was starting forLouisville to arrange matters at once.

  It was well for both Phil and Mary that he had known her so long andunderstood so thoroughly the ins and outs of her honest little heart.This was not the first time that he had known her to make somerenunciation for conscience' sake, and although the letter, in his ownforcible parlance, "gave him a jolt" for an hour or so, after severalreadings he folded it up with a smile and slipped it into the packagewith the others marked "From the Little Vicar."

  He hadn't the faintest intention of being "renounced." Moreover, he waspositive that he had only to see her and urge a few good arguments inhis favor, which would convince her that he would never be in the way ofwhat she considered her duty.

  But a very tender regard lay under his smile of amusement, for theattitude she had taken, and a feeling of reverence possessed him as hesaw her in the new light which this revelation of her spiritual lifegave him. "Nobody is good enough for little Mary Ware," he had saidonce, when she was a romping child. He was thinking of herunselfishness, her sturdy sincerity, her undaunted courage. Now herepeated it, thinking of her as this letter revealed her, awhite-souled vestal maiden who took the stars as a symbol of her duty,and who would not swerve a hair's-breadth from the orbit which shethought was heaven appointed.

  Knowing that he could reach her almost as quickly as a letter, andconfident that a personal interview would be a thousandfold moreeffective, Phil did not write. But he took the first train toLouisville, and after a few days with Mr. Sherman left for Riverville,armed with an argument and a promise which he was sure would carryweight in his behalf. The argument was that he needed her. He was aboutto take charge of an important business entrusted to him, and he couldnot do it half so well without the inspiration of the little home shehad agreed to help him make. The promise was that marrying him shouldnot interfere with what she considered her tryst. She should have hishearty help and cooeperation in trying to do for any state which theymight move to, what Mrs. Blythe was doing for hers.

  All this and much more he said in the first impetuous words of meeting,and almost before Mary had recovered from the overwhelming surprise ofseeing him, the ring was back on her finger and she was listening to theplans which he rapidly outlined to her. He wasn't going to give her achance to change her mind again, he insisted. There was no reason whythey should not be married right there in the library the following day,as soon as he could make the necessary arrangements.

  "Oh, but there is a reason," gasped Mary, aghast at the sudden demand.Then she hesitated, loath to tell what it was. For though it was aweighty one with her, she knew that he would smile at it as childish.But, after all, it was easier to confess to Phil than any one else. Heseemed to understand perfectly what she meant, even when the wordshalted and failed to express her innermost feelings.

  So, presently, she found herself explaining to him that it had alwaysbeen one of her beliefs from the time of her earliest knowledge of suchthings, that one couldn't properly be a bride without a certain ceremonyof preparation. The filling of a dower chest was one part of it, and thesetting of infinite stitches, each as perfect as a tiny pearl, in much"fair and broidered raiment" was another. The princesses in the fairytales did their fine needlework to the accompaniment of songs upon alute; so one set stitches in one's wedding garments, to the romance offancies--and so--

  She did not finish coherently, but Phil laughed and said teasingly thathe ought to have known that any one, who, as a child, wept to wear herrosebud sash out walking on the desert, where there were only owls andjack-rabbits to see it, would insist on veils and trails and things at atime like this. He wouldn't wait for the filling of a dower chest. Shecould do that afterward; but he was finally induced to wait for theother things, when Mrs. Blythe was brought into the discussion andpronounced them actually necessary.

  He went back to Louisville without telling Mary of his arrangement withMr. Sherman which had changed all his plans. The home he had written somuch about would be ready for her, but it would not be in the far West,as she expected. He could hardly wait for the day to come when he couldwitness her delight over the tremendous surprise which he had in storefor her.

  It was not many weeks before he had the pleasure of telling her, but itwas over two months before she made a record of it in her diary. Thenshe wrote:

  "There is room for just one more chapter in my Good Times book, and whenthat is finished it is to be laid away in the chest with my weddinggown and bridal roses. Maybe, a hundred years from now, some young girlrummaging through the attic may find my beautiful dress all yellowedwith time, and the rose leaves dried and scentless. But I am sure myhappiness will call to her from these pages like a living voice as youngas hers.

  "And when she sees how this record is blistered with tears in places,and reads how Disappointment and Duty and even Death rose up to 'closeall the roads of all the world' to me, then she'll take 'heart of grace'if she is in any desert of waiting herself. For she'll see how true itis that Love's road is always open, and that if we only keep inflexibleit will finally lead to the land of our desire. For here I am at last inLloydsboro Valley.

  "It has been more than two months since Phil and I were married at SaintMark's Cathedral in Riverville, but I have been too busy to write thechronicles of that important affair. No one was there but Mr. and Mrs.Dudley Blythe. Dear old Bishop Chartley came down for the ceremony. Hiswarm friendship with Mrs. Blythe made that arrangement possible. It waslate in the afternoon, and the great stained-glass windows made it seemlike twilight, and down the long dim aisles the altar candles gleamedlike stars.

  "I had thought at first that the vast place would seem empty andlonesome, and that it would be queer not to have the pews filled withfriendly faces at a time like that. But when I went down the aisle Iwasn't conscious of empty pews. The glorious organ music filled it,clear to the vaulted ceiling. And although Phil had teased me about notwanting to wear an ordinary travelling dress and hat, he had toacknowledge afterward that he was glad I chose to come to him all inwhite and in a filmy tulle veil. And he said some dear things about theway I looked, that were as sweet to me as the rose leaves I havescattered among the folds of my wedding gown's white loveliness. I havenot put what he said into these pages for the girl to find a centuryfrom now. For fashions change so curiously that maybe she would smileand say how very queer my old-time garments are, and wonder how any mancould have made a pretty speech about them.

  "Phil proved he had some sentiment about such things himself, for soonafter he bought me a real 'Ginevra' chest, all beautifully carved, withmy name engraved on the brass plate on the lid: _'Mary Ware Tremont_.'

  "Not until we were aboard the train, and he showed me our ticketsmarked Lloydsboro Valley, did I know that we were bound for Kentucky,instead of the far West, and not until we were almost there did hespring his grand surprise, although he was nearly choking withimpatience to tell. Of course I hadn't expected that we would set upmuch of an establishment. I supposed that wherever we went we would renta modest little cottage, probably in the suburbs. I knew that Philcouldn't afford much. He never began to save anything at all un
til twoyears ago. He confessed when he first came back from Mexico that it wasa lecture of mine about providing a financial umbrella for a possiblerainy day which started him to doing it, and that as expenses were lightin the construction camp, and his pay very large, he had put by enoughto take us through almost anything, short of a cloudburst. But that wasan emergency fund, of course, and not to be invested in houses andlands.

  "He never told me that the tangle about his Great-aunt Patricia'sholdings in England, whatever that may be, had been straightened out atlast, and that his share, paid to him recently, was over five thousandpounds.

  "That was the first part of the surprise. The second was that he had_bought_ (mark that word, whoever you are, oh, little maiden of thefar-off future, if you ever come across this record of happiness)--hehad bought a home in Lloydsboro Valley. He had the deed in his pocket,and he showed how it was made out to _me_!

  "Well, when the time comes for me 'to read my title clear to mansions inthe skies,' I _may_ be happier than I was that moment, but I doubt it. Idon't see how it could be possible. And when I got it through mybewildered brain that it was _Green Acres_ that was meant by all thequeer measurements and descriptions in the deed, I lost my headaltogether, and Phil had the satisfaction of seeing that his surprisewas absolute, supreme and overpowering. It seemed too good to be true.

  "Green Acres is just across the road from Oaklea. The grounds don't makeyou think of a big, stately park as Oaklea does. It is more countrified.But it is the dearest, most homelike, inviting old place that one canimagine. I had been there several times with Lloyd and Mrs. Sherman, andremembered it as a real picture-book sort of house, with its low gablesand quaint casement windows. I remembered that it had a garden gay asGrandmother Ware's, with its holly-hocks and prince's feathers, itsmarigolds and yellow roses; and that it had mint and sage and all sortsof spicy, savory things in some of its borders. But I didn't know halfof its charms. Now, after two months, I am just beginning to discoverthe extent of them.

  "When a family has owned a place for three generations, as theWyckliffes did Green Acres, and have spent their time making it livableand lovable, the result leaves little more to be wished for. Thehillside that slopes down from the back of the house has a small orchardon part of it and a smaller vineyard on the other, but both quite amplefor our needs. Down at the bottom a little brook trickles along from acold spring, and watercress and forget-me-nots grow along its edges. Theapple trees are in bloom now. This morning I spent a whole hour up inthe gnarly crotch of one of them, doing nothing but enjoying to thefullest the sweetness of their white and pink glory.

  "When we came only the early wildflowers were out, but all the knollbetween the gate and the house looked as if there had been a snowfall ofanemones and spring beauties. It isn't possible to put into black andwhite the joy of that first home-coming. We walked up from the station,and when we went through the great gate and heard it click behind us,shutting us in on our own grounds, we turned and looked at each otherand laughed like delighted children. It was as if we had reached thatland that we used to sing about, where

  "'Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood Stand dressed in living green.'

  No wonder they named the place Green Acres!

  "We left the wide driveway that winds around the hill to the house, andtook the little path that leads straight up to it under the trees. Thefootpath to peace, Phil calls it.

  "There was smoke coming out of the kitchen chimney, for Lloyd and Mrs.Sherman had been in the secret and had helped Phil as industriously asthe two genii of the Bottle to get everything ready. He had bought someof the furniture with the house, some they had helped him choose andsome they waited for me to select myself. But there was enough to makethe place livable right away, and there wasn't a room in the house thatdidn't look comfortable and inviting.

  "And there was May Lily installed in the kitchen as temporary cook, andperfectly willing to stay if I wanted her. As if there could be anyquestion as to that! If there was anything needed to make it seem morehomelike than it already was, I found it when we started out to explorethe back premises. A fussy old hen, with her feathers all fluffed outimportantly, was clucking and scratching for a brood of downy yellowchickens, just out of the shell. Old Mom Beck had sent them over as awedding present, May Lily said.

  "When we had been all through the orchard and down to the spring, andhad discovered the rows of currant and gooseberry bushes at the end ofthe garden, Phil said in a careless off-hand way that we might as welltake a look through the barn. By this time I had exhausted my wholestock of exclamations, so I hadn't another word left when he led me upto a stall, where stood one of the prettiest bay saddle horses I eversaw in my whole life. That was Father Tremont's present to me.

  "'Daddy didn't know what would please you most,' Phil said, 'but Iremembered the pleasure you used to take in old Washington out at theWigwam, and Lloyd insisted that you would like a riding horse betterthan anything else. She rides every day herself, and was sure you wouldenjoy joining her on her gallops across country.'

  "Well, by that time, being speechless, all I could do was to put myarms around the beautiful creature's satiny neck and cry a bit into herglossy mane. The sheer happiness of having so many of my cherisheddreams come true all at once was too much for me. Her name wasSilver-wings, but from that moment I called her Joy.

  "All afternoon I kept discovering things. When we sat down to dinnerthat night, our first meal together (Lloyd had told May Lily exactlywhat to do), a lot of the silver was marked Tremont, for the doctor haddivided all of Aunt Patricia's silver that came down from hergrandfather's family equally among Elsie and Stuart and Phil. But therewere some beautiful pieces from Lloyd and the old Colonel, and Mr. andMrs. Sherman. Stuart and Eugenia had sent quantities of fine tablelinen.

  "The last surprise of the day was the house-warming. Everybody hadstayed away till then, to let us have time to 'spy out the land andpossess it.' Lloyd and Rob were the first to come over, then Gay andAlex Shelby. They have just gone to housekeeping in the Lindsey cabin.Every old friend in the Valley came before the evening was over, andgave us a royal welcome, as warm and heartening as the blaze which westarted in the big fireplace. When the Colonel went away he quoted fromthe Hanging of the Crane,

  "'Oh, fortunate, oh, happy day When a new household has its birth Amid the myriad homes of earth.'

  "He said that Green Acres had always been the synonym for whole-souledhospitality, but that we had even surpassed its best traditions.

  "There isn't room for much more in this little book; only a few pagesare left, so I can't crowd into it all the good times of the last twomonths, but I must make mention of the delightful rides I have had withLloyd, and the times when she and Gay and I have spent the day togetherin good old Valley fashion. Just to be this near my Princess Winsome andto see her daily is a constant joy. She is lovelier and more winsomethan she ever was before.

  "I must put on record that I have proved what Mrs. Blythe said to betrue about the light from happy home windows being the best guide forbenighted travellers, and that social influence counts so greatly in thework we are trying to do. Already I am beginning to see that as Mistressof Green Acres I shall be able to accomplish far more than little MaryWare ever did. Of course, that might not be possible if Phil were not inhearty sympathy with what I want to do. But he is thoroughly interestedhimself.

  "The other night at the Moores I overheard him discussing Housing Reformwith Judge Abbott of Lexington, as warmly as Mrs. Blythe could havedone. Finally the whole dinner party took it up, and Mrs. Abbott saidthat her club had been interested in the subject for some time, and allthey need is for some one to take the initiative. The Abbotts werestaying several days with Lloyd and Rob, so next night I had them overhere. After dinner I took them up into my 'Place of the Tryst.' Ofcourse, I don't call it that to anybody but Phil, and he has dubbed itthe Chamber of Horrors.

  "It's just a big empty room up in one of the ga
bles. There is nothing init but a desk and a table and some chairs and the typewriter that Ibought with the check which Jack sent me. But around the walls arecopies of the photographs we used as posters in Riverville to arouse thepublic, and had hanging in the corridors of the State House all duringthe session of the Legislature. They are the very worst tenement viewswe could get, like that basement in Diamond Row, and some of thewindowless rooms taken by flashlight.

  "Judge Abbott said he knew that there are places every bit as bad inLexington and Frankfort and Covington, and Mr. Sherman and Alex Shelbysaid there were scores even worse in Louisville. Miss Allison told someexperiences a friend of hers had in exploring alleys in some of thesmaller towns, and presently the whole little company, representingseveral different parts of the state, were all ablaze from that onetouch of Mrs. Blythe's torch.

  "When I first fitted up the room, Phil said that it didn't seem rightthat a Chamber of Horrors should have a place in such a perfect home.But I told him that we needed it to keep us from 'joining ourselves toidols,' as Ephraim did. That is the danger that always menaces peoplewhen they get over into their Promised Land. We might be tempted tothink so much of our dear possessions that we'd make idols of them sureenough, and forget all about the work we had pledged ourselves to do. Noone has a right to settle down to the full possession and full enjoymentof any Canaan, until he has put to flight every Hittite and Gittite thatpreys upon its internal peace.

  "They all seemed surprised to see my typewriter, but I told them how Ihad used Mrs. Blythe's, and that this one is dedicated to the samecause. That I expected to write hundreds of letters just as soon as Ifound out who were the most influential people to address. Right thenand there the movement started. Every man there promised me a list ofhis personal acquaintances who had big influence, and said he'd gladlyput his signature to any letter or petition that would help get what wewanted. Lloyd and Miss Allison are both members of the Women's Club inLouisville, and they asked me to join, and are as enthusiastic as heartcould wish. Judge Abbott took a copy of Mrs. Blythe's bill to look itover and see how it could be amended to put before the KentuckyLegislature, so already I feel that something has been accomplished. Itis something just to get a start.

  "Once, long ago, the old Colonel remarked that I had it in my power tobecome an honor to my sex and one of the most interesting women of mygeneration. My family used to quote it to me to tease me, on alloccasions, but for years it was one of my highest ambitions to becomewhat he had prophesied. It is something else that I crave now.

  "I write it here on the last page and lay it away under the white tulleand the rose leaves, for some one to bring to light long years fromnow. It will be the crowning happiness of my happy life, if she whoreads may chance to have heard that my wish found fulfilment. For thenshe can add 'She _was_ a blessing to her generation and a torch thathelped to light the way for all who came after her.'"

  THE END.

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  * * * * *

  Transcriber's Notes:

  Obvious punctuation errors repaired.

  Page 22, missing word "a" added to text. (after a long time)

  Page 30, missing word "the" added to text (at the thought of)

  Page 41, "role" changed to "role" (the role of Uncle)

  Page 119, "muscial" changed to "musical" (no more musical)

  Page 120, "me" changed to "my" (of my ancestors)

  Page 121 "Lloydboro" changed to "Lloydsboro" (Sunday in Lloydsboro)

  Page 189, "Tueton" changed to "Teuton" (bewhiskered old Tueton)

  Page 297, "professsional" changed to "professional" (professional worldgave)

  Page 307, "Loydsboro" changed to "Lloydsboro" (marked Lloydsboro Valley)

 
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