Joseph Crosby Lincoln

“ To my intense surprise, Hephzy threw her arms about my neck and hugged me.
“I knew you would, Hosy!” she sobbed. “I knew you would. I was dyin' to have you, but I wouldn't have asked for the world. You're the best man that ever lived. I knew you wouldn't leave poor Ardelia's little girl to—to—Oh, I'm so grateful. You're the best man in the world.” ”

“ Cole, the rector.
“My soul!” whispered Hephzy, looking aghast at the spacious grounds, “we can never hire THIS. This is too expensive and grand for us, Hosy. Look at the grass to cut and the flowers to attend to, and the house to run. No wonder the servants have 'quarters.' My soul and body! I thought a rector was a kind of minister, and a rectory was a sort of parsonage, but I guess I'm off my course, as Father used to say. Either that or ministers' wages are higher than they are in Bayport. No, this place isn't for you and me, Hosy.” ”

“ All at once a new idea began to crystallize in my mind. It was a curious idea, a ridiculous idea, and yet—and yet it seemed—
“Hephzy,” said I, suddenly, “would you really like to go abroad?”
“WOULD I? Hosy, how you talk! You know I've been crazy to go ever since I was a little girl. I don't know what makes me so. Perhaps it's the salt water in my blood. All our folks were sailors and ship captains. They went everywhere. I presume likely it takes more than one generation to kill off that sort of thing.” ”

“ No one, since Mother's death, except Hephzy and Hephzy's love and care and sacrifice, fine as they were, were different. I had missed something, I had missed a great deal, and now it was too late. Youth and high endeavor and ambition had gone by; I had left them behind. I was a solitary, queer, self-centered old bachelor, a “quahaug,” as my fellow-Bayporters called me. And to ship a quahaug around the world is not likely to do the creature a great deal of good. If he lives through it he is likely to be shipped home again tougher and drier and more useless to the rest of creation than ever. ”

“ Even in the state of mind which Heathcroft's story had left me, I had realized that my errand in Paris was a difficult one. I realized that I had set out on the wildest of wild goose chases and that, even in the improbable event of the singer's being Frances, my finding her was most unlikely. The chances of success were a hundred to one against me. But I was in the mood to take the hundredth chance. I should have taken it if the odds were higher still. My plan—if it could be called a plan—was first of all to buy a Paris Baedeker and look over the list of churches. ”

“ It's this way, Kent; I like Bayport, you know that. Nobody's more in love with this old town than I am; it's my home and I mean to live and die here, if I have luck. But it don't do for me to stay here all the time. If I do I begin to be no good, like a strawberry plant that's been kept in one place too long and has quit bearin.' The only thing to do with that plant is to transplant it and let it get nourishment in a new spot. Then you can move it back by and by and it's all right. Same way with me. Every once in a while I have to be transplanted so's to freshen up. ”

“ Another short delay and then, with a whistle as queer and unfamiliar as its own appearance, the little locomotive began to pull our train out of the station.
Hephzy leaned back against the cushions with a sigh of supreme content.
“And now,” said I, “for London. London! think of it, Hephzy!”
Hephzy shook her head.
“I'm thinkin' of it,” she said. “London—the biggest city in the world! Who knows, Hosy? France is such a little ways off; probably Little Frank has been to London a hundred times. He may even be there now. Who knows? I shouldn't be surprised if we met him right in London. ”

“ For instance, meals in the pleasant dining-room, with Hephzy at one end of the table, I at the other, and Frances between us, were more social and chatty than they had been. To have the young lady come down to breakfast, her hair prettily arranged, her cheeks rosy with health, and her eyes shining with youth and the joy of life, was almost a tonic. ”

“ Not that I understood the young person herself; no Bayport quahaug, who had shunned female companionship as I had for so long, could be expected to understand the whims and changing moods of a girl like Frances Morley. At times she charmed and attracted me, at others she tormented and irritated me. She argued with me one moment and disagreed the next. She laughed at Hephzy's and my American accent and idioms, but when Bayliss, Junior, or one of the curates ventured to criticize an “Americanism” she was quite as likely to declare that she thought it “jolly” and “so expressive.” ”

“ But Little Frank was a girl—a sick girl, without a penny. And a girl thoroughly convinced that she was the rightful heir to goodness knows how much wealth—wealth of which we, the uncivilized, unprincipled natives of an unprincipled, uncivilized country, had robbed her parents and herself. Little Frank had been a dream before; now he—she, I mean—was a nightmare; worse than that, for one wakes from a nightmare. And I was on my way to tell Hephzy!
Well, I told her. She was in our sitting-room when I reached the hotel and I told her the whole story. I began by reading the letter. ”

“ The minutes dragged by. Outside beneath the windows, New York blazed and roared. I looked down at the hurrying little black manikins on the sidewalks, each, apparently, bound somewhere on business or pleasure of its own, and I wondered vaguely what that business or pleasure might be and why they hurried so. There were many single ones, of course, and occasionally groups of three or four, but couples were the most numerous. Husbands and wives, lovers and sweethearts, each with his or her life and interests bound up in the life and interests of the other. ”

“ Hephzy put in a word.
“Why, Frances,” she said, “I thought you didn't like America.”
“I don't. Of course I don't. But it makes me lose patience to have him sit there and agree to everything those boys say. Why didn't he answer them as he should? If I were an American no one—NO one should rag me about my country without getting as good as they gave.” ”

“ Heathcroft stroked his mustache.
“Oh,” he drawled, “we have some, possibly; but our breakfasts are not as queer as the American breakfasts. You mustn't mind my fun, Miss Cahoon, I hope you're not offended.”
“Not a bit,” was the calm reply. “We humans ARE animals, after all, I suppose, and some like one kind of food and some another. Donkeys like hay and pigs like sweets, and I don't know as I hadn't just as soon live in a stable as a sty. Do help yourself to the cake, Mr. Heathcroft.” ”

“ Hephzy nodded. “We're all quahaugs,” she declared. “Most of us, anyhow. That's the trouble with all the folks of all the nations; they stay in their shells and they don't try to know and understand their neighbors. Kent, you used to be a quahaug—a different kind of one—but that kind, too. I was a quahaug afore I lived in Mayberry. That's who makes wars like this dreadful one—quahaugs. We know better now—you and Frances and I. We've found out that, down underneath, there's precious little difference. Humans are humans.” ”

“ You must lie down and be quiet. Hosy—oh, please, Hosy, be careful.”
Miss Morley paid no attention. She was regarding me with eyes which looked me through and through. Her thin hands clutched the bedclothes.
“WHY did you come?” she demanded. “My letter was plain enough, certainly. What I said yesterday was perfectly plain. I told you I did not wish your acquaintance or your friendship. Friendship—” with a blaze of scorn, “from YOU! I—I told you—I—”
“Hush! hush! please don't,” begged Hephzy. “You mustn't. You're too weak and sick. Oh, Hosy, do be careful.” ”

“ Her next remark was a surprising one.
“Hosy,” she said, “how much they all think of you, don't they. Isn't it nice to know you're so popular.”
I turned in the seat to stare at her.
“Popular!” I repeated. “Hephzy, I have a good deal of respect for your brain, generally speaking, but there are times when I think it shows signs of softening.”
She did not resent my candor; she paid absolutely no attention to it.
“I don't mean popular with everybody, rag, tag and bobtail and all, like—well, Eben Salters,” she went on. “But the folks that count all respect and like you, Hosy. ”

“ She was in good spirits, and, as Hephzy confided to me afterward, was “gettin' a real nice appetite.” In gaining this appetite she appeared to have lost some of her dignity and chilling condescension; at all events, she treated her American relatives as if she considered them human beings. She addressed most of her conversation to Hephzy, always speaking of and to her as “Miss Cahoon.” She still addressed me as “Mr. Knowles,” and I was duly thankful; I had feared being hailed as “Uncle Hosy.” ”

“ A good long jaunt around the world would do you a barrel of good. Don't stop to think about it, just start, that's all. Will you?”
I laughed. The idea of my starting on a pleasure trip was ridiculous. If ever there was a home-loving and home-staying person it was I. The bare thought of leaving my comfort and my books and Hephzy made me shudder. I hadn't the least desire to see other countries and meet other people. I hated sleeping cars and railway trains and traveling acquaintances. So I laughed.
“Sorry, Jim,” I said, “but I'm afraid I can't take your prescription.” ”

“ Cole and Hephzy were making a tour of the house. They met us at the door. Mrs. Cole's eyes were twinkling; I judged that she had found Hephzy amusing. If this was true it had not warped her judgment, however, for, a moment later when she and I were alone, she said:
“Your cousin, Miss Cahoon, is a good housekeeper, I imagine.”
“She is all of that,” I said, decidedly.
“Yes, she was very particular concerning the kitchen and scullery and the maids' rooms. Are all American housekeepers as particular?”
“Not all. Miss Cahoon is unique in many ways; but she is a remarkable woman in all.” ”

“ A middle-aged quahaug should be phlegmatic and philosophical; I once had a reputation for both qualities, but I seemed to possess neither now.
I found myself speculating and wondering more than ever concerning the outcome of all this. Was there anything serious in the wind at all? Herbert Bayliss was in love with Frances Morley, that was obvious now. But was she in love with him? I doubted it. Did she care in the least for him? I did not know. She seemed to enjoy his society. I did not want her to fall in love with A. Carleton Heathcroft, certainly. ”

“ Knowles?”
“Far from it,” I answered, with decision. If I had been a prophet I should have been forewarned and, consequently, forearmed.
She smiled and against my will I was forced to admit that her smile was attractive; she was prettier than ever when she smiled.
“I remember now,” she said; “all Americans have Scriptural names. I have read about them in books.”
“Hosy writes books,” said Hephzy, proudly. “That's his profession; he's an author.”
“Oh, really, is he! How interesting!”
“Yes, he is. He has written ever so many books; haven't you, Hosy.” ”

“ You drop Bayport and drop writing. Go out and pick up and go. Stay six months, stay a year, stay two years, but keep alive and meet people and give what you flatter yourself is a brain house-cleaning. Confound you, you've kept it shut like one of these best front parlors down here. Open the windows and air out. Let the outside light in. An idea may come with it; it is barely possible, even to you!”
He was out of breath by this time. ”

“ Thought! that's just it; you do nothing but think. Stop thinking. Stop being a quahaug—a dead one, anyway. Drop the whole business, drop Bayport, drop America, if you like. Get up, clear out, go to China, go to Europe, go to—Well, never mind, but go somewhere. Go somewhere and forget it. Travel, take a long trip, start for one place and, if you change your mind before you get there, go somewhere else. It doesn't make much difference where, so that you go, and see different things. I'm talking now, Kent Knowles, and it isn't altogether because it pays us to publish your books, either. ”

“ My bottle of champagne remained almost untouched and when a celluloid ball bounced on the top of my head I did not scream “Whoopee! Bullseye!” as my American neighbors did or “Voila! Touche!” like the French. There were plenty of Americans and English there, and they seemed to be having a good time, but their good time was incomprehensible to me. This was “gay Paris,” of course, but somehow the gaiety seemed forced and artificial and silly, except to the proprietors of L'Abbaye. If I had been getting the price for food and liquids which they received I might, perhaps, have been gay. ”

“ Hephzy stared at Lord and Lady Erkskine. I gave our luncheon order, and the steward departed. Then her indignant disgust and disappointment burst forth.
“Well! well!” she exclaimed. “And that is a real live lord! That is! Why, Hosy, he's the livin' image of Asaph Tidditt back in Bayport. If Ase could afford clothes like that he might be his twin brother. Well! I guess that's enough. I don't want to see that Princess any more. Just as like as not she'd look like Susanna Wixon.” ”

“ Hephzy shook her head.
“Did you hear that, Hosy?” she whispered. “I declare! if it wasn't off already, and that's a mercy, I'd take off my hat to England and the English people. Not a whimper, not a complaint, just sit still and soak and tumble around and grin and say it's 'a bit damp.' Whenever I read about the grumblin', fault-findin' Englishman I'll think of the folks on this boat. It may be patriotism or it may be the race pride and reserve we hear so much about—but, whatever it is, it's fine. They've all got it, men and women and children. ”

“ My acquaintance with A. Carleton Heathcroft, which appeared to have ended almost as soon as it began, was renewed in an odd way. I was in the “Smoke-Room” after dinner the third evening out, enjoying a cigar and idly listening to the bidding for pools on the ship's run, that time-honored custom which helps the traveling gentleman of sporting proclivities to kill time and lose money. On board the “Plutonia,” with its unusually large quota of millionaires and personages, the bidding was lively and the prices paid for favored numbers high. ”

“ Miss Morley regarded me with a new interest, or at least I thought she did.
“Did you mean it?” she asked.
I smiled. “Yes,” I answered.
“Now, Hosy,” cried Hephzy. “What a way that is to talk! What do you know about the hereafter?”
“Not much, but,” remembering the old story, “I know Bayport. Humph! speaking of ministers, here is one now.”
Judson, the curate, was approaching across the lawn. Hephzy hastily removed the lid of the teapot. “Yes,” she said, with a sigh of relief, “there's enough tea left, though you mustn't have any more, Hosy. Mr. Judson always takes three cups.” ”

“ His fancy had been caught, probably, by her odd combination of the romantic and the practical, and in her dream of “Little Frank” he had scented a mystery. There was no mystery there, nothing but the most commonplace record of misplaced trust and ingratitude. Similar things happen in so many families.
However, I began to think of Hephzy and, as I said, of myself, and to review my life since Ardelia Cahoon and Strickland Morley changed its course so completely. ”

“ All your literary—we'll call it that for compliment's sake—all your literary life you've spent writing about people and things so far off you don't know anything about them. You and your dukes and your earls and your titled ladies! What do you know of that crowd? You never saw a lord in your life. Why don't you write of something near by, something or somebody you are acquainted with?”
“Acquainted with! You're crazy, man. What am I acquainted with, except this house, and myself and my books and—and Bayport?” ”