Katharine Pearson Woods

“ Clare noticed that her eyes had a tired look as she raised them to his face.
“I think you struck it that time, sir,” observed Polly to Mr. Clare. “A prince is just what our Louis looks like, and ought to be.”
“He’d better be an honest man; princes are very poor property,” growled the Emperor, with would-be severity.
“He’s more like an angel,” said Miss Sally.
But Louis was no angel, he was only a man; for this was what he had whispered to Annie Rolf.
“I will tell her who painted the beautiful roses, liebes Aenchen.” ”

“ In his youth you taught him to follow Christ; in his young manhood he followed Him even unto death. Follow Him yourself, and you will find your boy again. There is no death to those who love the Lord.”
“No death?” the tone was incredulous, yet it thrilled with a faint hope. “But even if—if all you say were true, it cannot—could not, help this longing, this terrible longing, to hear his voice again—only one word—to see him smile—oh, if he would but stir an eyelid or a finger,” cried Metzerott desperately, “it could not be so hard to bear—afterwards.”
Ernest Clare’s eyes were full of tears. ”

“ When Karl hurried back from the other end of the car to fetch his wife and change cars for Micklegard, they were still hard at it.
That night Dora had a singular dream. She stood in a world which formed part of one of those universes of which Clare and his companion had spoken; a universe which admits a fourth, even perhaps a fifth, dimension, and which must therefore differ so widely from our earth even in the primary elements that compose what here we call land and water, that any attempt to describe it were but as the meaningless babble of an infant. ”

“ Are they good motives, Clare?”
“To surpass others in diligence and devotion to the common weal?” said Mr. Clare. “It is a motive that is never found unmixed, rector, either with love of one’s self or love of one’s fellows; in the last case I should not call it a bad motive.”
“But in the first?” said the rector.
“Well, ambition in a good cause is better than ambition in a bad one, of which we have so much nowadays. I should call it a motive which would be likely to purify itself as it went along, or else come to signal grief, as in the case of Judas.” ”

“ Randolph. “Would your father himself have consented to your marriage with an infidel, an atheist?”
Alice Randolph grew pale, then flushed deeply as she hesitated to reply, while her sister looked on, in her turn triumphantly.
A sparkle came into the blue eyes of her lover as they searched hers. “That,” he said, “is a strong argument, Alice. Weigh it well, and dispose of it once for all. If you marry me, I don’t want that to contend with. I am an atheist, for I cannot believe in a God who leaves nine-tenths of his creatures to hopeless suffering.” ”

“ Her love was real—her religion an unconscious make-believe; and reality had conquered.
Upon her realization that the creed she had learned had grown all unreal to her (that it had never been other than unreal she was not yet wise enough to know) , Mrs. Randolph’s sudden passing away into the unknown came as a lightning stroke to her own house of life. Nothing else could have shown her so clearly the change in her own creed, as this death, so near herself, yet with no loving grief to hide the sharp surprise, the sudden vacancy. ”

“ This, and the knowledge that Louis, his only son, Louis, to whom he had been both father and mother, that Louis clung to his rival and condemned his father’s course, filled Karl Metzerott’s tongue with fire. His rugged features glowed, his strong frame trembled, as he pictured the rich man’s home, where the cost of one single picture would have been wealth—nay, length of days, to the bowed figure, old beyond her years, whose life slowly ebbed from her, as she toiled through the gorgeous rooms and up and down the wide, richly carpeted stairs. ”

“ Shoemaker Karl said little; but no king upon his throne ever more intensely believed his wife a queen among women. All day he could hear her blithe, sweet voice, singing over her work, or chatting and laughing with his mother, who had suddenly failed, now that she had some one to rest her cares upon. It mattered little, she said; Dora was eyes, hands, and feet to her; she had worked hard enough in her time, now she could rest. And so she lay and rested under her gay, patchwork quilt, upon her testered bed, while Dora bustled cheerfully about the tiny kitchen. ”

“ Even Pinkie was hushed with expectation, and I think no one would have been at that moment surprised if the command had been obeyed. But, alas! the two little hands upon the arms of Freddy’s chair, the helpless feet concealed by the gay, embroidered skirt, were powerless to raise or to sustain even so slight a weight as that small figure. There was an effort, a struggle perceptible but vain; then Freddy’s voice cried out, “O Louis, I can’t, I can’t! my legs aren’t strong enough,” and broke into bitter, childish weeping. ”

“ The humors of the dining-hall could, he felt, be safely left to the conduct of Miss Dare, whose pale, prominent eyes seemed everywhere at once, while the low-toned sarcasms flowed on as unceasingly as Tennyson’s “Brook.”
“Girls, girls! don’t laugh at these good people! They will see you, and feel hurt,” interposed at gentle intervals the Machiavelli of rough-running love-affairs.
Pinkie was not anxious about the feelings of “these good people.” Louis was sitting not a dozen feet from her, beside a sweet, gentle-faced girl, who seemed to absorb more of his attention than his dinner. ”

“ He said nothing, but his mere presence and the consciousness of his sympathy strengthened her nobler self, so that in a little while she turned to Louis again, with a smile that was sad but very sweet.
“Attend to the children, Mr. Martin,” she said; “they don’t like to wait. Are you buying a thimble for your mother, my little man?”
“My mother’s dead,” said Louis, “because we are poor, and the millionnaires wont ’vide. This thimble is for George’s mother.”
“You don’t remember the boy, Alice,” said Dr. Richards; “indeed I don’t know that you ever saw him; he is Dora Metzerott’s child.” ”

“ She was dressed with a good deal of taste, in a new, black silk, with a bunch of crimson roses in her bosom; and her greeting was interfused by the consciousness of such array.
“So you are not at the Kaffee-Visite, Frau Metzerott?” she asked, laughing a good deal. Laughing was very becoming to Anna; she had such charming dimples, and strong, white, even teeth.
“Kaffee-Visite, indeed!” grumbled the old woman, taking, with her withered hand to her wrinkled brow, a leisurely survey of her radiant visitant. “What should an old woman like me do there? I drink my coffee at home, and am thankful. ”

“ Randolph was furious,—and slightly undignified.
“Very well,” she cried, “go to perdition your own way, Alice Randolph. I have tried to be a mother to you, and this is my reward. You will lose not only your money but your soul, by marrying that man.”
“Be consoled, my dear madam,” returned the young man, sarcastically, “the first will be very useful to you and your children; the second can be of no benefit to any one but the owner. For my part, though I should find it hard to justify myself in holding property under the present régime, I am not exactly a beggar. ”

“ Presently a tear trickled down his cheek, then another and another. The pastor was weeping the death of his first and only love: for his first marriage had been as business-like a contract as the present proposed arrangement; and his feeling for Dora had been his one romance. But, after all, one cannot live on romance; especially one plus six children, and minus either a wife or a housekeeper. Romance will not mend the broken head or heal the scalded foot: it will not light the kitchen fire or keep the sausages from burning. ”