A Poor Wise Man

re which gave it mystery and often beauty. Sometimes the softened towers of the great steel bridges rose above the river mist like fairy towers suspended between Heaven

es came alike the hopeful and the hopeless, the dreamers and those who would destroy those dreams. From all over the world there came men who so

y, as potentially powerful as the iron or

tuary, and forgot them. But the sheph

seen, in the army camp, similar shuffling lines of men, transformed in a few hours into ranks of uniformed soldiers, beginning already to be actuated by the same motive. These aliens, going by, would become citi

smoke and the noise, the movement, the sense of things doing. And the sight of her mother, small, faultlessly

ood with a folded rug over his arm. On the seat inside lay a purple box. Lily had known it would be there. They would be ostensibly from her father,

e Cardew household took the place of loving demonstrations had always touched her. As a family the

er, and then held her

e said, "you look

other "Grace." It was by way of being a small joke between them, but limited to their moments alon

ld, but I didn't t

, dear. He wanted so to come, but things are dreadful at the mill. I suppo

hem, or did you get them? But never mind about that; I know he's worried, and you're sweet t

s of messages, and he

ghed out

ng life, but the Cardew women all have what he likes to call savoir faire. What would th

r frightened her. The terrible honesty of youth! All these years of ironing the wrinkles out of life, of smoothing the difficulties between old Anth

d you need attention. I wish yo

an beautiful, perhaps. Her face was less childish than when she had gone away; there was,

. I didn't need anything. I've been

ery vague lately

her mothe

having me do it, and I thought i

you were in

ldiers to camps. Some of them were going to have babies, too.

dened. So this was what war had done to her. She had had no son, and had thanked God for it during the war, although old Anthony had h

th were divine accidents. Death was a quiet sleep, with heaven just beyond, a sleep which came only to age, which had wearied and would rest. Then she remember

persisted, standing in front of h

man, but she turned it rather n

for an idea. "I think probably God was lonely

ind, but what she left in Lily's brain was a confused conviction that every person was two persons, a body and a soul. Death was simply a split-up, then. One part of you, the part that bathed every morning and had its toe-nails cut, and w

not lik

d again when she threatened tears over her music lesson. But when Aunt Elinor had gone away she had found Mademo

hy

rry for Au

e to God? She ought to

of chocolates and given her one, although th

time was over, anyhow. But Lily was rather difficult those days. She seemed, in some vague way, resentful. Her mother found her, now and then, in a frowning, half-defiant mood. And on

iously remembering those t

o learn about that side of life,

vely. But Grace did not reply to that. It was char

u know he feels strongly about some things. An

dent with her mother than with her father. Such spontaneous bursts of affection as she sometimes showed had been lavished on Mademoisell

ave made it hard for you, hav

taking a luxurious sniff. She did not seem to expect a reply. Between Grace and her

trouble at the mill.

y who did not reply. She

saving. It all seems such a mess, doesn't it?" She glanced out. They we

he said. "Only she is unfortunately a she, and she h

of the grim old house had she been the son they had

d retired in wrath on his son's marriage, she remembered her sense of awe as a child on seeing on the wall the sword he had worn in the Civil War. He was a small man, and the scabbard was badl

een a fighting

butler, evidently waiting inside the door, greeted her with the familiarity of the old serv

me, Miss Li

e was French and thrifty. Suddenly a wave of warmth and gladness flooded her. This was home. Dear, familiar home. She had come back. She was the only yo

It was an emotion, rather. She ran up th

s over! It is finished. And all your nice French relatives are sitting on the boulevards in the sun, a

saints be praised!" sai

ich held her daughter and governess. Old Anthony's doing, that. He had never forgiven his son his plebeian marriage, and an early conversation retur

o the second, and so on." He had stood looking down at the child critically. "She's a Cardew," he said at last. "Which means that she will be obsti

said, with no more warmth i

the accomplishments of a lady. Get a good woman, and for heaven's sake arrange to serve her breakfast

uldn't," Gr

e would now and then send for the governess and Lily to come in for dessert. That, of course, was later on, when the child was nearly ten. Then would follow a three-cornered conversation in rapid French, Howard and Anthony and Lily, with Mademoiselle joining i

red to see her, but to make Grace feel the outsider that she was. She made desperate efforts to conquer the hated language, but her

s front, and after a time sheathed herself in an armor of smiling indifference. But she thanked heaven when the time came to send Lily away to school. The effort of concealing the armed neutrality between Anthony a

stairs she felt the barrier of language, and back of it

f again. Inside the doorway the girl was standing, he

dormitory, and taking turns at the bath, I have thought of my own little place." She wandered around, touching her familiar possessions with caressing hands. "I've a good notion," she de

ou mean by

met somebody she knows out there, the nicest sort of a boy." She went to the doorway and call

ce looked anxious. "You know how your

if grandfather thinks it is unbefitting the family dignity he can put cotton in

"You met Willy? Isn't h

ould like him, mother. He couldn't get into the army. He is a little bit lame. And-" she surveyed Grace with amus

the town I come from. His father was a doctor, and his buggy used to go around day, and

repeated, ig

t all about it when you k

emaid in the Anthony Cardew house, a self-effacing, rubber-heeled, pink-uniforme

nd went out, leaving Lily rath

friend in Mr. William Wallace Cameron! Well, if you want the exact truth, he hadn't an atom of use for me until he heard about Ell

who dangled cigarettes from a lower lip, all obviously of the lower class, including the cigarette; and of other women, sometimes drab, dragged of breast and carrying children who should have been in bed hours before; or still others, wandering in pairs, young, painted and predatory. She was not imaginative, or she coul

elieve it,

le gesture of ha

hanged," she ended, lamely. "The social order, and that sort of thing. You know. Caste." She hesitated. She was young and inarticulate, and when she saw Grace's face, somewhat frightened. But she was not old Ant

dressing case, but she paused now and turne

France also. But in time they see the wisdom of the o

ardly h

re not in love with this

asy laugh re

eath me, as you would call it, but not William Wallace Camero

ut her neck and over her pillows, while Castle, her elderly English maid, was applying ice in a soft cloth to her face. Gra

ded. "Go out for

aited until th

us. "A young man who does not care for women, a cler

adful, Mademoiselle

d lame! Also, I know the child. She is not in

elieved, but not

d, isn't she,

shrugged he

tude that did not conform with his own as a condition that would pass. "A phase, only. N

is talk about marr

mes lost an aspirate. "It is like wine to the young.

eard a great deal of Mademoiselle's cou

her not to voice those ideas of hers to her

orroborated Mademoiselle. "Ca ne pou