Spaulding

“ She was a young widow, and a well-to-do widow. Old man Spaulding had been a good provider and a good husband; but he was much older than his wife, and had not particularly engaged her affections. Now that he was dead, after some eighteen months of married life, and had left her one of the two best farms in the county, everybody supposed that Mis’ Spaulding would{184} marry Reuben Pett, who owned the other best farm, besides a saw-mill and a stage-route. That is, everybody thought so, except Samantha and Pett. ”

“ The detective did not drink, so Ruyler ordered cigars, and a few moments later Spaulding strolled in. His physical movements always belied his nervous keen face. He was the antithesis of 'Gene Bisbee. All honest men compelled to have dealings with him liked and trusted him. A rich man could confide a disgraceful predicament to his keeping without fear of blackmail, and a poor man, if his cause were interesting, might command his services with a nominal fee. ”

“ Spaulding put out her hand to him, unexpectedly.
"I'm afraid you're going to be very lonely here at first," she said.
"I have my work," he answered wearily—though the thought of it came almost with joy.
"But you can't live by work alone. And if you'll let us, I thought we might give you a little house-warming. Won't you let Cordelia and me join you in your first dinner here?"
Mrs. Spaulding had made a discovery. She had found that her scholar responded only to sincerity, but then, inevitably ”

“ Here in New York you'll find plenty such persons, anxious enough to shine in the reflected light of the real workers. Mrs. Spaulding is different from the rest—she would be as true as steel, I know. But the ordinary kind are not easy to hold. Their whims change, and you have to change with them. They take you up just as they'd take up a new design in foulards, or a novelty in their stationery, or a new breed of Pomeranian. We all have our hobbies, you know," she added, with just the slightest touch of bitterness in her voice. ”

“ There was a moment of constrained silence. The young man felt that they had been treading on thin ice.
"You must be sure to meet Mrs. Spaulding," went on Cordelia. "I know she'll be interested in you. She'll probably be able to help you, too, in more ways than one. Oh, by the way, does your syndicate publish portraits at all?"
Hartley explained that it did; two pages a week—one of People of the Hour, and the other of Beautiful Women.
As the woman on the orange cushion said nothing for a moment or two, Hartley rose to go.
"Some day you'll have to do Mrs. Spaulding for me," she begged. ”

“ Then he turned to the Drive itself, and let his eyes rest on the stream of flashing horses and hurrying carriages. He remembered what the Spauldings' coachman had confided to him only a few days before: "They don't last long in the city, sir, them horses; it shakes the shoulders off 'n them."
He found Cordelia, excepting the servants, alone in the house. The Spauldings had left the day before for Canada, she told him. Mrs. Spaulding was to stay in Quebec City, while her husband—who had always been fond of shooting—went north for moose. ”

“ A swan's-down footman was putting the last touch to the tea-table in a corner of the room; Klaus Heinrich noticed the electric kettle about which he had read in the Courier.
“Has Mr. Spoelmann been told?” asked the daughter of the house.... The butler bowed. “Then there's nothing,” she said quickly and half mockingly, “to prevent us from taking our places and beginning without him. Come, Countess! I advise you, Prince, to unbuckle your sword, unless there are reasons unknown to me for your not doing so....” ”

“ But there's yet one more obstacle, and that is decisive. It's going to rain.”
“No, that's a very weak one. The sun is shining....”
“It's going to rain. The air is much too soft. I made sure of it when we were in the Spa-Gardens before breakfast. Come and look at the barometer if you don't believe me. It's hanging in the hall....”
They went out into the tapestry hall, where a big weather-glass hung near the marble fireplace. The Countess went with them. Klaus Heinrich said: “It's gone up.”
“Your Highness is pleased to deceive yourself,” answered Miss Spoelmann. ”

“ That's my standpoint, sir.”
“I entirely understand,” said Klaus Heinrich. He sat up stiffly in his uniform and smiled uneasily.
“Of course it needs practice like everything else,” Mr. Spoelmann went on in a little less bitter tone of voice—“practice and training, I can see. For myself I shall never as long as I live cease feeling angry when I am obliged to play the prodigy.”
“I only hope,” said Klaus Heinrich, “that our people are not wanting in respect....”
“Thanks, not so bad,” answered Mr. Spoelmann. “The people are at least friendly here; one doesn't see murder written in their eyes.” ”

“ Sometimes a big spout rises up nearly to the outside rim of the deep hole, and then falls back with a sullen, vicious flop, as if some slimy spirit, there imprisoned, were angry and baffled at not being able to reach us, and smirch and scald us. ”

“ He had ran a few rods when Spalding let drive at him, as he confessed, at random. The ball went wide of the mark, and the game dashed, with more desperate energy, and whistling and snorting like a locomotive, into the brush that lined the banks. It was Spalding's third shot in all his life at a deer, and he insisted, gravely enough, that he did not fire while the game was standing broadside to him, on account of his desire to give the animal a chance for his life. The truth is, that Spalding had a bad, a very bad attack of the aforesaid Buck fever. ”

“ As they groped around in the dark searching for wood, Martin slipped, and at the same time grasped the side of the cave to prevent his falling. The huge rock yielded, and opened like the massive door of some great dungeon, disclosing a lurid light farther in the cave.
"Heavens! what is this?" gasped the boy, losing his hold and letting the rock swing back to its former position.
"A robbers' den," whispered Owen, trembling with fright. "They have not seen us; let us get away as fast as we can." ”

“ The closer he came to his destination the slower he walked; as a consequence, it was almost mid-day when he stood before the two giant rocks, the guardian genii of that mysterious place.
With his right hand grasping his revolver, he passed cautiously through the narrow entrance. Here he paused and listened, but heard nothing. With difficulty he found the rock door. It seemed but a part of the solid stone wall, with a slight, irregular fracture along the side. It was in a dark corner, too, where the light from without did not penetrate. ”

“ Spoelmann might be too unwell. He anticipated his meeting with him with vague anxiety.
“He was feeling ill to-day, Royal Highness. He had a touch of fever, shivering, and a little faintness. Dr. Watercloose was with him for a long time this morning. He was given an injection of morphia. There's some question of an operation being necessary.”
“I am very sorry,” said Klaus Heinrich quite honestly. “An operation? How dreadful!”
To which the Countess answered, letting her eyes wander: “Oh yes. But there are worse things in life—many much worse things than that.”
“Undoubtedly,” said Klaus Heinrich. ”

“ Did not foreigners with guide-books ask to be taken out to Delphinenort, there to gloat over the sight of Spoelmann's house—many of them before they had seen the Old Schloss?
Were not both Schlosses, the Old and Delphinenort, about equally centres and foci of the city? To what circle of society belonged that human being who had been born Samuel Spoelmann's daughter, that creature without counterpart, without analogy? To whom should she attach herself, with whom have intercourse? Nothing could be less surprising, nothing more obvious and natural than to see Klaus Heinrich at her side. ”

“ The Courier wished Mr. Spoelmann a hearty farewell and expressed the hope that the cure would be found to have done him good.
And with that the notable interlude seemed to be closed and done with. Everyday life claimed its due, and Mr. Spoelmann began to fade into oblivion. The winter passed. It was the winter in which her Grand Ducal Highness the Princess zu Ried-Hohenried was confined of a daughter. ”

“ Miss Imma told me that she knew nothing about the surrounding country. It was agreed that on the first fine day ... It's such a lovely day to-day.... It is of course subject to your approval...."
Mr. Spoelmann shrugged his shoulders, and made a face as if to say: "Approval—why so?"
"My daughter is grown up," he said. "I don't interfere. If she rides, she rides. But I don't think she has time. You must find that out for yourself. She's in there." And Mr. Spoelmann pointed his chin towards the tapestry door, through which Klaus Heinrich had already once passed.
"Thanks," said Klaus Heinrich. ”

“ That was his way of greeting Klaus Heinrich. He was an alien, an invalid, and a man apart as regards wealth. He was forgiven and nothing further was expected of him—Klaus Heinrich recognized the fact, and took pains to recover his self-control.
“You are at home here in a sense,” added Mr. Spoelmann, cutting the conversation short, and a passing gleam of malice played round his clean-shaven mouth. Then he gave the others an example by sitting down. It was the chair between Imma and Klaus Heinrich, opposite the Countess and the veranda door, which the butler pushed under him. ”

“ Spalton welcomed me back, and stood, that evening, before the fire in the sitting room, with his arm about my shoulder ... even as he did so I remembered the picture taken of him and the celebrated poet L'Estrange, together ... their arms about each other's shoulders ... and the current Eos proverb, that Spalton always quarrelled not long after with anyone about whose shoulder he first cast his arm.
Already a change was manifest in the little community. Tabled off by themselves sat the workers and the folk of the studios, that night. ”

“ They reined in their horses in front of the tea-garden, and Imma Spoelmann took stock of the prosaic country-house which rejoiced in the name of the “Pheasantry.”
“Your childhood,” she said with a pout, “does not seem to have been surrounded by much giddy splendour.”
“No,” he laughed, “there's nothing to see in the Schloss. It's the same inside as out. No comparison with Delphinenort, even before you restored it——”
“Let's put our horses up,” she said. “One must put one's horses up on an expedition, mustn't one, Countess? Dismount, Prince. ”

“ Spoelmann with Doctor Watercloose, Miss Spoelmann with the Countess—to the Spa Garden. There they got out, and there for six weeks they led a life the cost of which it did not need all their money to meet.
They were lucky; the weather was fine, it was a blue autumn, a long succession of sunny days from October into November, and Miss Spoelmann rode daily—that was her only luxury—with her companion, on horses which she hired by the week from the livery stables. Mr. ”

“ There was the weir itself, a sheet of foaming frothing water, that as it fell dashed itself in white-lipped passion against the rounded boulders that seemed striving in vain to turn it from its course. And here, a little way from the bottom of the weir, was the pool of quiet water over which our little boat was now cleaving its way, and out of which the handsome young man now sitting opposite to me had plucked me, bruised and senseless, only a few short hours ago. I shuddered and could feel myself turn pale as I looked. George seemed to read my thoughts; he smiled, but said nothing. ”

“ The swallows were flittering and diving through the air in quest of gnats and other insects, many of the birds passing not twenty feet overhead.
"Father," said Owen, adjusting his rifle for action, "we received a new keg of powder by the last stage, and I haven't had time to test its strength yet; so, if I miss the first few shots, you'll know the reason."
"No excuse! no excuse!" said the priest, with a laugh. "If you do not kill five birds in succession, you are no match for the giant." ”

“ And presumably her father had not given the best items to the bazaar. She could guarantee that he had much finer pieces of glass. Klaus Heinrich would very much like to see them! Well, that might easily be managed, Miss Spoelmann had answered in her broken voice, while she pouted and wagged her head slightly from side to side. Her father, she meant, would certainly have no objection to showing the fruits of his zeal as a collector to one more of a long succession of intelligent visitors. The Spoelmanns were always at home at tea-time. ”

“ Spoelmann. "Do your military duties take so much time?"
Klaus Heinrich answered: "I'm no longer on the active list, Mr. Spoelmann. I am à la suite of my regiment. I wear the uniform, that's all."
"I see, make believe," said Mr. Spoelmann harshly. "What do you do all day, then?"
Klaus Heinrich had stopped drinking tea, had pushed his things away in the course of the conversation which demanded his undivided attention. He sat upright and defended himself, feeling the while that Imma Spoelmann's big, black, searching eyes were resting on him. ”

“ And still an hour later not less than four hundred captured robins, though imprisoned in a coop, dreamed that they were roosting among the cedars; while Owen and Martin in their snug beds dreamed of the shooting-match, and their future victory over Coon-Hollow Jim.
"Helloo, Mart! What made you so late?" said Owen as Martin entered the field chosen as the place of practice.
"Late! It isn't late yet. You can kill many a robin before dark," answered Martin, at the same time putting down a box which he carried on his shoulder. ”