Kennon

“ Kennon sat perfectly erect in her chair, never touching the back, and I can remember her as quite an old lady, almost flying up the hill of Congress (31st) Street, always, of course, in bonnet and long, crêpe veil. She was a member of Christ Church, and once many, many years ago when a parish meeting was announced to decide some important question, the rector and gentlemen were very much surprised on entering the vestry to find Mrs. Kennon there waiting for the meeting. She said she wished to have a say in the matter, and having no man to represent her, had come herself. ”

“ Kennon’s voice was gentle but the interne flushed a dull red.
“Sorry, sir.”
“Don’t mention it. It’s normal for a graduate to confuse liberty with license.” Kennon smiled. “Don’t worry. I shan’t report you.”
“That’s good of you, sir.” Smalley’s face registered relief. Demerits were difficult to erase—particularly ones of courtesy.
Kennon wondered if the young man would report himself. He doubted it. The interne didn’t look the type—probably he was dated for some obscure job, like a general practitioner. He shrugged. It took all kinds to make a profession. ”

“ Blalok looked at Kennon’s haggard face with mild concern, “Doc,” he said, “you’d better take it easy. You’re going to pieces.”
“I’ll be through here in another week, I’ll have this all wrapped up.”
“Providing you’re not wrapped up first.”
“Eh?”
“In a shroud. You look like a walking corpse.”
Kennon chuckled wearily. “Sometimes I feel like one. But I’d like to get this job finished.”
“Well, I’ll do what I can,” Blalok said. “I’ll try to keep him down at Alexandria for a few days.”
“It’ll be enough,” Kennon said. More than enough—he added mentally. ”

“ Kennon shrugged. “It’s not necessarily toughness. I believe in doing one job at a time—and my contract reads veterinary service, not personal problems. The job comes first and there’s work to do.”
Copper wasn’t in sight when Kennon came back to the hospital—a fact for which he was grateful. He packed quickly, threw his bags into the jeep, and took off with almost guilty haste. He’d contact the Hospital from the Otpens. Right now all he wanted was to put distance between himself and Copper. ”

“ She married Commodore Beverley Kennon, of the United States Navy, whose father was General Richard Kennon, of Washington's staff, a charter member of the Society of the Cincinnati, and a grandson of Sir William Skipwith. Commodore Kennon was killed in 1844 by the explosion on the U. S. S. Princeton, so Mrs. Kennon was a widow for more than sixty-six years.
Tudor Place, Mrs. Kennon's home, was famous for the distinguished guests that were entertained there, among them being General Lafayette, who visited there in 1824. ”

“ Possibly it was due to the fact that his father was the commander of a Shortliner and most of his formative years had been spent in space. To Kennon, accustomed to the timeless horror of hyper space, all planets were good, broad open places where a man could breathe unfiltered air and look for miles across distances unbroken by dually bulk heads and safety shields. On a planet there were spaciousness and freedom and after the claustrophobic confinement of a hyper ship any world was paradise. Kennon sighed, finished his letters, and placed them in the mail chute. ”

“ You’re getting fat with too much soft living.”
Copper smiled. “Perhaps I’m getting old.”
“Nonsense,” Kennon chuckled. “It’s just fat. Come to think of it you are plumper. Not that I mind, but if you’re going to keep that sylphlike figure you’d better go on a diet.”
“You’re too good to me,” Copper said.
“You’re darn right I am. Well—let’s get going. Exercise is always good for the waistline, and I’d like to see what’s up ahead.”
Scarcely a kilometer ahead they came to a wall of lava that barred their path. “Oh, oh,” Kennon said. “We can’t go over that.” ”

“ Alexander nodded.
* * *
“It’s fair enough,” Kennon said, “except for Article Twelve.”
“The personal privilege section?
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s the contract. You can take it or leave it.”
“I’ll leave it,” Kennon said. “Thank you for your time.” He rose to his feet, smiled at Alexander, and turned to the door. “Don’t bother to call your receptionist,” he said. “I can find my way out.”
“Just a minute, Doctor,” Alexander said. He was standing behind the desk, holding out his hand.
“Another test?” Kennon inquired.
Alexander nodded. “The critical one,” he said. “Do you want the job?” ”

“ If all the advances in civilization which took place during the lifetime of this remarkable lady were catalogued, they would make a singularly interesting list.
Mrs. Kennon was left a widow when less than thirty years of age, with her one child, Martha Custis Kennon. To Mrs. Kennon and her daughter Mrs. Thomas Peter bequeathed Tudor Place, having long survived her husband, and her other children having received their inheritance. Martha Custis Kennon married her cousin, Dr. ”

“ And Kennon knew what he had forgotten! Hyperspace with leaky screens was nothing to inflict upon an unprepared mind. It is one thing to endure partial exposure after months of training, with experienced medics standing by to help you through the shock phase, but quite another to be thrust from a safe and sheltered existence into the mind shattering distortions of the Cth continuum. ”

“ The two women walked past them toward the airboat. Kennon turned to look at them and noticed with surprise that they weren’t human. The long tails curled below their spinal bases were adequate denials of human ancestry.
“Humanoids!” he gasped. “For a moment I thought-”
“Gave you a start-eh?” Alexander chuckled. “It always does when a stranger sees a Lani for the first time. Well—now you’ve seen some of the livestock what do you think of them?”
“I think you should have hired a medic.”
Alexander shook his head. “No—it wouldn’t be reason able or legal. You’re the man for the job.” ”

“ When Travers, after giving his address to Kenelm, and, of course, pressing him to call, left the house with Cecilia, Kenelm said to Lady Glenalvon, musingly, "So that is the young lady in whom I was to see my fate: you knew that we had met before?"
"Yes, she told me when and where. Besides, it is not two years since you wrote to me from her father's house. Do you forget?"
"Ah," said Kenelm, so abstractedly that he seemed to be dreaming, "no man with his eyes open rushes on his fate: when he does so his sight is gone. Love is blind. ”

“ Kenyon.
"Ah, now I can speak with you, my friend," he said. "No, no, my boys, you need not go," he added, as Phra and Harry were drawing back. "It is sad work for you, but it is forced upon me. Now, Kenyon, you are fresh, and I want your advice; you know how difficult a place this is to defend. What do you say? Ought we not to retire into this part of the palace now and defend ourselves from there? I have had every window boarded up; we have plenty of ammunition, and the place is well provisioned. There is water too. What do you think?"
"I am not a soldier, sir," said Mr. Kenyon gravely. ”

“ The sitting on the sand was a survival of Mr. Kenton’s preoccupations of the sea-side. As a mater of fact, Ellen was at that moment sitting in one of the hooked wicker arm-chairs which were scattered over the whole vast beach like a growth of monstrous mushrooms, and, confronting her in cosey proximity, Breckon sat equally hidden in another windstuhl. Her father and her mother were able to keep them placed, among the multitude of windstuhls, by the presence of Lottie, who hovered near them, and, with Boyne, fended off the demure, wicked-looking little Scheveningen girls. ”

“ Old Kenyon was so pitiably isolated from his family. He must always be aware that he was marked down, that the circle of harpies was forever closing more tightly about him, that the only interest that his descendants took in him was in the search for symptoms of his approaching death. He would surely welcome some one coming from the outside, who would have no selfish object in view, who would give him real sympathy and understanding.
Arthur felt a glow of self-satisfaction at the thought. ”

“ Kenyon, so glad to see you! You are just in time to drive with us. No, do sit down again; there is no hurry—and don't let me interrupt you. You were talking about a pet enthusiasm of mine, weren't you, Constance, love? I mean Karl Savary. Mr. Kenyon, I had an immense admiration for that man—his voice, his beauty, his genius! ”

“ Unbarring the door of another room, Zero let the hermit in and closed the portal behind them both, and Kenyon found himself face to face with an imperially beautiful woman, still quite young, but whose lovely face was worn with sorrow and anguish, and furrowed with her bitter tears. A tall, well-knit figure, a wealth of lustrous golden hair, and glorious deep blue eyes, formed a tout ensemble which might have won pity from a stone, but had no effect whatever upon this scoundrel who battened on human misery. ”

“ He saluted them, and making a sign to his son to follow, passed into the palace, Phra giving his friends a quick nod of the head and a smile, and then he was hidden from sight by the King's attendants.
"Then we may go back home now, I suppose," said Mr. Kenyon.
"Yes," replied the doctor, "and the sooner the better. As soon as the sun goes in we seem to be in the shade. All is bright and warm while the King is near, but when he goes every one seems to scowl."
Mr. Kenyon gave his friend a meaning look as if saying, "No more now," and laid his hand upon Harry's shoulder. ”

“ Kenyon's voice was heard from above.
"Where is the King?" he cried.
"Here. Are you losing ground up there?"
"No, sir, no. My men can keep up their fire there. I came to speak to you," he said in a low voice, but it was close to where the two boys were standing, and they heard every word. "We must do our best," he said, "for the whole country seems up against us. They have cast off all concealment now, and are coming up to the gate in thousands, many of them with lanthorns at the end of their spears. Where are the home-made shells?" ”

“ It is this peculiar power of rejuvenescence which perhaps makes so many women outlive their husbands, who at the same age regard this world as an accomplished fact. Mrs. Kenton had kept up their reading long after Kenton found himself too busy or too tired for it; and when he came from his office at night and fell asleep over the book she wished him to hear, she continued it herself, and told him about it. When Ellen began to show the same taste, they read together, and the mother was not jealous when the father betrayed that he was much prouder of his daughter’s culture than his wife’s. ”

“ Kenyon.
"Yes, father, directly," said Harry; "I mean, going to try."
"Off with you, then, so as to be ready for a good day's work to-morrow. Did you see how beautiful the fire-flies are, right away up and down the river?"
"Yes, sir," said Phra. "I've been watching them; it looks sometimes as if the bushes and boughs were full of flying stars. Hear that?"
"Yes; a tiger," said Mr. Kenyon quietly. "Hear the king of stripes,
Doctor?"
The gentleman addressed grunted, and then breathed hard.
"The brute does not trouble him," said Mr. Kenyon; "and it need not trouble us." ”

“ If Kenyon had been a more generous man—if in his nature there had been one small grain of unselfishness—he would have gone at that very moment, then and there, to the door of the Doctor's laboratory—into that wonderful room—sat down opposite the man who spent his life in it with such noble concentration and begged him to desert his microbes and turn his attention to his sons. ”

“ Kenelm responded cordially to the civilities of the master of the house, who had just returned from his city office, and left all its cares behind him. You had only to look at him to see that he was prosperous, and deserved to be so. There were in his countenance the signs of strong sense, of good-humour,—above all, of an active energetic temperament. A man of broad smooth forehead, keen hazel eyes, firm lips and jaw; with a happy contentment in himself, his house, the world in general, mantling over his genial smile, and outspoken in the metallic ring of his voice. ”

“ Whether from gallantry or curiosity or apparent necessity, Kenyon yielded. He shrugged his shoulders with a look of bored vexation, called to the model, "Rest, Mamie," and, when the shimmer of her green robes had disappeared in the little corridor which separated his living-rooms from the studio, he unbolted and opened the outer door.
A short woman, dressed richly in mourning, rustled past him, bending her head slightly in answer to his somewhat ironical bow. Kenyon silently set a chair for her and she seated herself, putting aside the heavy crape veil from her face. ”

“ She had had the good fortune to meet men in New York, and not collectors.
"What are your father's plans when he leaves Oxford?" asked Kenyon, leaning a little more closely against the girl's soft shoulder.
"Why, we're going to Shakespeare's country, to the English lakes and then to Scotland, where father's ancestors lived; and then in August we shall go to London for a week, and go home on the Olympic. Why don't you go over with us?"
"I should like nothing better," said Kenyon, "but as a matter of fact I shall wait until Peter has got through his various engagements. ”