PART ONE - CHAPTER VII

by Kathleen Norris

　　One warm morning in August, when Miss Toland was stretched out on thereception-room couch, and Julia, who had washed her hair, was shakingit, a flying, fluffy mop, over the sill of the bathroom window, a suddenhubbub broke out in the kindergarten. Miss Toland flung down her bookand Julia gathered her loose wrapper about her, and both ran to the doorof the assembly hall. The children, crying and frightened, were gatheredin a group, and in the centre of it Julia, from the elevation of thestage, could see Miss Pierce half-kneeling and leaning over as if shetried to raise something from the floor. While they watched she arose,holding the limp body of a five-year-old child in her arms.

　　"What is it—what is it?" screamed Miss Toland, but as every one elsewas screaming and crying, and Julia's automatic, "Is she dead?" wasanswered over and over again only by Miss Pierce's breathless,"No—no—no—I don't think so!" it was some time before any clear ideaof the tragedy could be had. The small girl was carried in to Julia'sbed, where she lay half-conscious, moaning; great bubbles of bloodformed from an ugly skin wound in her lip, and her little frock wasstained with blood. As an attempt to remove her clothes only roused herto piercing screams, Julia and Miss Pierce gave up the attempt, and fellto bathing the child's forehead, which, with the baby curls pushed awayfrom it, gave a ghastly look to the little face.

　　"Well, you've killed her, Miss Pierce!" said Miss Toland, beside herselfwith nervousness. "That's a dying child, if I ever saw one. That ruinsthis Settlement House! That ends it! Poor little thing!"

　　"I was at the board," said Miss Pierce, white-lipped, and in a low tone.

　　"I don't care where you were," said Miss Toland. "There, there, darling!I pay you to watch these children! It's a fine thing if a child is goingto be killed right here in the house! Where was Miss Watts?" she brokeoff to ask.

　　"Miss Watts is at home, sick," Miss Pierce said eagerly. "And I was atthe board, when some of those bigger boys set a bench up on top ofanother bench. I heard the noise and turned around; this child—poorlittle Maude Daley, it is—was standing right there, and got the fullweight of both benches as they fell."

　　"This boy is back," said Julia, coming from the front door, "and he saysthat Doctor White is out and Doctor McGuire is out, too!"

　　"Great heavens!" Miss Toland began despairingly. "No doctor! of course,eleven o'clock they're all out on morning rounds! And the child'smother, where is she? Am I the only person here who can do somethingexcept sit around and say 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry!'"

　　"She has no mother, and her grandmother's out," Julia said soothingly."Miss Toland, if I telephone do you think I can catch Doctor Studdifordat the City and County?"

　　"A two hours' trip from Sausalito!" Miss Toland said scornfully. "Youmust be crazy, that's all! No! Go into Mission Street—"

　　"I don't mean in Sausalito," Julia said firmly; "he's at the City andCounty on Wednesday mornings, you know. I could get him there."

　　Miss Toland stared at her unblinkingly for a second.

　　"Yes, do that!" she said then. "Yes, that's a good idea!" And as Juliaran to the telephone she called after her, "Yes, that's a very goodidea!"

　　Julia's heart thumped as she called the big institution, thumped whenafter a long wait a crisp voice, out of utter silence, said:

　　"Yes? This is Doctor Studdiford!"

　　She explained as concisely as she could, feeling that he listenedattentively.

　　"Keep the child flat, no pillow," he said, as Julia concluded. "Tell myaunt I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

　　Julia, thrilled by she knew not what, knotted her flying hair loosely onher neck and buttoned on a fresh uniform. Ten minutes later she admittedDoctor Studdiford to the sickroom.

　　He had laid aside his hat and washed his hands. Now he sat down by thebed and smiled at the dazed, moaning little Maude. Julia felt somethingexpand in her heart as she watched him, his intense, intelligent face,his singularly winning smile, the loose lock of dark hair on hisforehead.

　　"Now, then, Maude," said he, his clever, supple fingers on her wrist,"where does it hurt?"

　　Maude whimpered something made unintelligible by the fast-stiffeningcut in her lip.

　　"Her back's broken, Jim, no doubt about it," said Miss Toland grimly.

　　"I think her side hurts," Miss Pierce submitted eagerly.

　　"Well, we'll see—we'll see!" Doctor Studdiford said soothingly. "Now,if you'll help me, Miss Page, we'll get off these clothes—ah!" For ananguished moan from the sufferer coincided with his discovery that thelittle left arm hung limp. Julia loosened the sleeve as the surgeon'sscissors clipped it away, and she held the child while the arm was setand bandaged. Miss Pierce was faint, and Miss Toland admitted freelythat she hated to see a child suffer, and went away. "Only a cleandislocation, Aunt Sanna!" said Jim, cheerfully, when he came out of thesickroom. "She'll have to lie still for a while, but that's all. The cuton her mouth doesn't amount to anything. She's all right, now—Miss Pageis telling her stories. She ought to have a glass of milk, or soup, orsomething; then she'll go to sleep. I'll be in to-morrow. By the way,you have a little treasure there in Miss Page!"

　　"Julia? Glad you have the sense to see it, Jim!"

　　"She—is—a—peach!" the doctor mused, packing his very smart littleinstrument case. "Who is she?"

　　"A little girl I found. Yes, she's a nice child, Julia. She's been heresix years now."

　　"Six years! Great Scott! How old is she?"

　　"Twenty-two—twenty-three—something like that."

　　"It doesn't sound much of a life for a young girl, Aunt Sanna. Imaginethe Barbary-flower!" Doctor Studdiford shook his thermometer, looked atit, and screwed it into its case.

　　"How is Barbara?" Miss Toland asked dryly.

　　"Fine! Mother came to me with a long tale, the other day, about herbeing run down, or blue, or something, but I don't see it. She has adandy time."

　　"Why doesn't she marry? Barbara must be twenty-six," her aunt said, withdirectness.

　　"Oh, I don't know; why don't all the girls? The fellows they run withare an awfully bum lot," Jim said contentedly. "Look at me! Why don'tI?" he added, laughing.

　　"Well, why don't you?"

　　"I'm waiting to settle the others off, I guess. Besides, you know, I'vebeen working like the devil! Sally's been worrying Mother with heraffairs lately," said Jim.

　　"Sally—and who?"

　　"Keith Borroughs!" Jim announced, grinning.

　　"Keith Borroughs? Why, he's ten years younger!"

　　"He's about three years younger, and he's an awful fool," said Jim, "buthe's very much in love with Sally, and she certainly seems to like it!"

　　"I think that's disgusting!" said Miss Toland. "Has he a job?"

　　"Job? He's a genius, my dear aunt. His father pays for his musiclessons, and his mother gives him an allowance. He's a pianist."

　　"H'm!" commented the lady briefly.

　　"Ned has definitely announced his intention of marrying his Goldfieldgirl," pursued Jim.

　　"Yes, I knew that. Kill your mother!"

　　"It'll just about kill her. And the latest is Ted—falling in love withBob Carleton!"

　　"Carleton! Not the lumber man? But he's fifty!"

　　"He's forty-five, forty-seven perhaps."

　　"But he's married, Jim!"

　　"Divorced, Aunt Sanna."

　　"Oh, Jim, that's awful!" said his aunt, horrified.

　　"Well, it may come to nothing. Ted's only twenty—I hope devoutly itwill. There—that's all the news!" Jim jumped up from his chair, andgave his aunt a kiss. "Why don't you come over and get it for yourself,now and then! I don't know how much there is in any of this stuff,because I use my rooms at the club a good deal, but it's all in thewind. That little Julia Page is a peach, isn't she?"

　　"You said that once," Miss Toland said dispassionately. Jim grinned,unabashed. He had been in love with one girl or another since hisfourteenth year, and liked nothing so much as having his affairs of theheart discussed.

　　"Well, it's true, and I'll say it again for luck!" said he. "Who is she?I suppose Pius Aloysius Maloney, or some good soul who comes to teachthe kids boxing, has got it all framed up with her?"

　　"I don't know any Mr. Maloney," Miss Toland answered imperturbably. "Mr.Craig is director of the Boys' Club, and I know he admires her, and shehas another admirer, too, who comes here now and then. But how likelyshe is to marry I really can't say! She's an extremely ambitious girl,and she has determined to raise herself."

　　"Raise herself!" Jim said, with a casual laugh. "I don't suppose shestarted much lower than other people?"

　　"Oh, I imagine she did. Her father was a—I don't know—a sort ofdrummer, I guess, but her mother is an awful person, and her grandfatherwas a day labourer!"

　　"Ha!" Jim said, discomfited. "Well, see you tomorrow!" he added,departing. He walked briskly to the corner of the street, andexperienced a thump at the heart when a casual backward glancediscovered Julia, in a most fetching hat, coming out of the settlementhouse with a market basket on her arm. She did not see him, and Jimdecided not to see her. Of course she was a little peach, but thatlabourer grandfather was too much.

　　That same evening Julia used the accident to little Maude as an excuseto break a half engagement with Mark. He was to be given only a fewmoments' chat before the Girls' Club met for a rehearsal, but he showedsuch bitter disappointment at losing it that Julia, half against herwill, promised to spend at least part of her Sunday afternoon with him.

　　This was on Wednesday, and on Thursday and Saturday Doctor Studdifordcame to see his little patient, and both times saw Julia, too. He askedJulia what books she liked, and, surprised that she knew nothing ofBrowning, he sent her a great volume of his poetry, a leather-boundexquisite edition that Jim had taken some trouble to find. With the bookcame a box of violets, and Julia, opening the package, suddenlyremembered that he was a rich man, and stood, flushed and palpitating toa thousand emotions, looking down at the damp, fragrant flowers.

　　She wore a few violets at the breast of her sober little gown when shemet Mark on Sunday for the promised walk. Julia had been most reluctantto go, but Maude had been moved to her own home, and the child's fatherwas sitting with her, so that Julia had no excuse to visit her.

　　"I want to show you something—something you'll like!" said Markeagerly. "We take the Sixteenth Street car and transfer downSacramento."

　　Julia accepted his guidance good-naturedly, and they crossed the city,which lay in a clear wash of the warm September sunlight. Mark led Juliafinally to the ornate door of a new apartment house in SacramentoStreet.

　　"What is it, Mark?" the girl asked, as they went in. "Some one we knowlive here?"

　　"You wait!" Mark said mysteriously. He went to a desk in the handsomeentrance hall, and talked for a few moments to a clerk who sat there.Then a quiet-looking, middle-aged woman came out, and Mark and Juliawent upstairs with her, in a little elevator.

　　The woman turned a key in a door, and led them into a charmingly brightfront apartment of four good-sized rooms and a shining bathroom. Therewas a bedroom with curly-maple furniture, a dining-room with a hanginglamp of art glass on a brass chain, and Mission oak table and chairs, akitchen delightfully convenient and completely equipped, and a littledrawing-room, with a gas log, a bookshelf, a good rug, a little desk,and some rocking chairs and small tables. The sun shone in through freshnet curtains, and the high windows commanded a bright view of city roofsand a glimpse of the bay.

　　Julia began to feel nervous and uncomfortable. She did not understand atall what Mark meant by this, but it was impossible to doubt, from hisbeaming face, that some plan involving her was afoot. He couldn't havefurnished this apartment in the hope—?

　　"Whose place is this, Mark?" she asked, trying to laugh naturally.

　　"Do you like it?" Mark countered, his eyes dancing.

　　"Like it? It's simply sweet, of course! But whose is it?"

　　"Well, now listen," Mark explained. "It's Joe Kirk's furniture; he'sjust been married, you know. He and his wife had just got back fromtheir honeymoon when Joe got an offer of a fine job in New York. Heasked me to see if I couldn't find a tenant for this—two years' leaseto run—just as it stands; no raise in rent. And the rent's fifty-five?"he called to the woman in the next room.

　　"Fifty, Mr. Rosenthal," she answered impassively.

　　"Fifty!" Mark exulted. "Think of getting all this for fifty! Ah,Julia"—he came close to her as she stood staring down from the window,and lowered his voice—"will you, darling? Will you? You like it, don'tyou? Will you marry me, dearest, and make a little home here with me?""Oh, Mark!" Julia stammered, a nervous smile twitching her lips.

　　"Well, why won't you, Ju? Do you doubt that I love you? Answer me that!"

　　"Why, no—no, I don't, of course." Julia moved a little away.

　　"Don't go over there; she'll hear us! And you love me, don't you, Ju?"

　　"But not that way I don't, Mark," Julia said childishly.

　　"Oh, 'not that way'—that's all rubbish—that's the way girls talk;that's just an expression they have! Listen! Do you doubt that I'llalways, always love you?"

　　"Oh, no, Mark, of course not!" Julia admitted. "But I don't want tomarry any one—"

　　"Well, what do you want? Haven't I loved you since you were a littlegirl?"

　　"Yes, I know—of course you have! Only"—Julia gave him a desperatesmile—"only I can't discuss such things here," she pleaded, "with thatwoman so near!"

　　"You're right!" Mark said, with military promptness, and as one wholoves to receive his lady's orders. "We'll go out. Only—I wanted you tosee it!"

　　And as they went out he must stop to show her the admirably deep drawersof the little sideboard and the ingenious arrangement by which the gaswas electrically lighted.

　　They thanked the woman, and began the long ride back to the settlementhouse, for Julia never left Miss Toland long alone. In the SacramentoStreet car they both had to stand, but Mark found seats withoutdifficulty on the dummy of the Fillmore Street car, and laying his armalong the back of Julia's seat, swung about so that his face was veryclose to hers. A world of wistful tenderness filled his voice as he saidagain:

　　"Well, darling, what do you think of it?"

　　Poor Mark! Perhaps if he had asked her only a week earlier, his ladymight have given him a kinder answer. But Julia was walking in a goldendream to-day, a dream peopled only by herself and one other, and shehardly noticed his emotion. She fixed her blue eyes vaguely on the blackeyes so near, and smiled a little.

　　"Oh, answer me, Julia!" Mark said impatiently. And a second later heasked alertly: "Where'd you get the violets?"

　　"Oh—somebody," Julia temporized. Pink flooded her cheeks.

　　"Who?" said Mark, very calm.

　　"Oh, Mark, what a tone! Nobody you know!" Julia laughed.

　　"Is he in love with you?" Mark asked fiercely.

　　"Oh, don't be so silly! No, of course he's not."

　　"Tell me who he is!" Mark commanded grimly.

　　"Now, look here, Mark," Julia said sternly, "you stop that nonsense, oryou can get straight off this car, and I'll go home alone! And don't yousulk, either, for it's too ridiculous, and I won't have it!"

　　Mark succumbed instantly.

　　"It's because I love you so," he said humbly. There was a littlesilence, then Julia, watching the Sunday streets, said suddenly:

　　"Look, Mark, look at the size of that hat!"

　　Mark, disdaining to turn his eyes for the fraction of a moment from herface, said reproachfully:

　　"Are you going to answer me, Julia?"

　　"How do you mean?" Julia said nervously.

　　"You know what I mean," Mark answered, with an impatient nod.

　　"No, I don't," Julia said, with a little laugh.

　　"Now, you look-a-here, Julia—you look-a-here," Mark began, almostangrily. "I am going to ask you to marry me! You've fooled about it, andyou've laughed about it, and I've got a right to know! I think about itall the time; I lie awake at night and think about it. I"—his voicesoftened suddenly—"I love you awfully, Julia," he said. And then, witha sort of concentrated passion that rather frightened the girl, headded, "So I'm going to ask you once more. I want you to answer me, d'yesee?"

　　The car sped on, clanged across Market Street, turned into the Mission.Julia had grown a little pale. She gave Mark a fleeting glance, lookedaway, and finally brought her eyes back to him again.

　　"I wish you wouldn't take things so seriously, Mark," she beganuneasily. "You're always forcing me to say things—and I don't wantto—I don't want to get married at all—"

　　"Nonsense!" said Mark harshly.

　　"It's not nonsense!" Julia protested, glad to feel her anger rising.Mark saw her heightened colour, and misread it.

　　"Yes," he said sneeringly. "That's all very well, but I'll bet you'dfeel pretty badly if I never came near you again—if I let the wholething drop!"

　　"Oh, Mark," said Julia fervently, "if you only would—I don't meanthat!" she interrupted herself, compunction seizing her at the look ofmortal hurt on his face. "But I mean—if you only didn't love me! Yousee, I'm perfectly happy, Mark, I've got what I want. And if Miss Tolandtakes me abroad with her next year, why, it'll mean more to me than anymarriage could, don't you see that? You know what my childhood was,Mark; my mother didn't love my father—" And as a sudden memory of theold life rose to confront her, Julia's tone became firm; she felt acertain sureness. "Married people ought to love each other, Mark," shesaid positively. "I know that. And I won't—I never will marry a man Idon't love. If everything goes wrong, after that, you have only yourselfto blame. And so many times it goes wrong, Mark! I should be unhappy, Ishould keep wondering if I wouldn't be happier going my own way—wonderingif I wouldn't have—have gotten farther—do you understand me?"

　　This was a long speech for Julia, and during it Mark had twisted about,and pulled his hat over his face. Now, in a voice curiously dead andhard, he asked briefly:

　　"Gotten farther—where?"

　　"I don't know," said Julia candidly. "But the more I read, and the moreI think, the more it seems to me that anyone can be anything in thisworld; there's some queer rule that makes you rise if you want to rise,if only you don't compromise! The reason so many people don't ultimatelyget what they want is because they stop trying for it, and takesomething else!"

　　"And marriage with me would be a compromise, is that it?" Mark mutteredsullenly.

　　"It would be for me," Julia answered serenely. "Because staying where Iam keeps me nearer what I want."

　　"Money, huh?" asked Mark.

　　"Oh, money, no! Books and talk—things. And—and if I loved you, Mark,then don't you see it would be the right thing to marry you?" she addedbrightly. "But now, it would only be because it was easier, or because Iwas tired of The Alexander, do you see?"

　　"I suppose so," Mark answered drearily.

　　A long silence ensued. In silence they got off the car, and walkedthrough the cheerless twilight of the dirty streets, and they werealmost in sight of the settlement house before Mark burst out, a littlehuskily:

　　"Then there's no chance for me at all, Julie?"

　　"Oh, Mark, I feel rotten about it!" said Julia frankly, her eyes full ofpity and regret, and yet a curious relief evident in her voice. "I am sosorry! I've just been thinking of girls who like this sort of thing—Idon't see how they can! I am so sorry! But you won't mind very long,Mark; you won't always care; you'll—why, there's Doctor Studdiford'sautomobile!"

　　For they were in sight of The Alexander now, and could see the electricrunabout at the door. Motor cars were still new to San Francisco and tothe world, and a crowd of curious children surrounded the machine.

　　"What's he there for?" Mark asked gruffly.

　　Julia explained: the accident—the emergency call.

　　"Well, but the kid is not there now, you say?"

　　"Yes, I know. But he didn't know that. I suppose he's calling on hisaunt."

　　To this Mark made no immediate answer. Presently he said:

　　"City and County! I'll bet the city pays for his automobile!"

　　"Oh, no!" Julia protested. "He's a rich man in his own right, Mark."

　　They were at the house now, and went up the steps together. DoctorStuddiford was in the little reception hall with Miss Toland. He lookedvery handsome, very cheerful, as he came forward with his fine eyes onJulia. And Julia stood looking up at him with an expression Mark neverhad won from her, her serious, beautiful little face flooded with light,her round eyes soft and luminous. A woman at last, she seemed as shestood there, a grave and wise and beautiful woman, ripe for her share ofloving and living, ready to find her mate.

　　"You got the book?" Jim said, with a little laugh. He laughed becausehis heart was shaking curiously, and because the sudden sight of Juliadisconcerted him so that he hardly knew what he said.

　　Julia did not answer; she only touched the wilting and fragrant violetson her breast with her free hand. Jim still held one hand.

　　"You—you'll like Browning," added Jim. And inconsequentially he added,"I was thinking of our little talk yesterday—all night."

　　"So was I," Julia breathed. They turned suddenly and self-consciouslyto Miss Toland and Mark. Julia introduced the men; her breath was comingunevenly and her colour was exquisite; she talked nervously, and did notmeet Mark's eye. Mark was offered a lift in Doctor Studdiford's motorcar, and declined it. The doctor seemed to be in no hurry to go;wandered into her room to advise his aunt upon the placing of atelephone extension. Julia and Mark loitered about the assembly hall fora few empty moments, and then Mark said he must go, and Julia, absentlyconsenting, went with him toward the stage door.

　　"And he's rich, is he?" said Mark.

　　Julia came out of a brief dream.

　　"He's very rich—yes!" she smiled.

　　She mounted to the stage as she spoke, and Mark held out his hand andturned about as if to say goodbye. The next instant Julia felt as if thedull twilight room had turned to brass and was falling with a wildclamour; she felt as if her heart were being dragged bodily to her lips,and she heard her own wild scream.

　　Silence fell, and Mark was still staring at her, still smiling. But nowhe toppled slowly toward her and stumbled, and as his body, with ahideous, slithering sound, slipped down to the floor, his arm fell lax,and the still smoking revolver slid to Julia's very feet.

　　"Stop, Julia—what is it?—what is it?" Miss Toland was crying. Shelocked her arms tight about the girl, and drew her back into thereception hall. Julia was silent, suddenly realizing that she had beenscreaming. She moved her tongue over her dry lips, and struggled toexplain.

　　"Now we understand perfectly!" Doctor Studdiford said soothingly. "Heshot himself, poor fellow. I'm going to take care of him, do you see?Just keep still, Aunt Sanna, or we'll have a crowd here. Aunt Sanna, doyou want this to get into the papers?" For Miss Toland's surmises weredelivered at a sort of shriek.

　　"Oo—oo—oo!" shuddered Julia, fearful eyes on the assembly room door."He was—we were just talking—"

　　"Is he dead, Jim?" asked Miss Toland fearfully.

　　"I think so. I'm going to call the hospital for an ambulance, anyway."Doctor Studdiford was all brisk authority.

　　"But what ever possessed him?" shrilled Miss Toland again. "Of allthings!"

　　"Had you quarrelled?" asked Jim, keen eyes on Julia as he rattled thetelephone hook.

　　"No," Julia said shortly, like a child who holds something back. Thenher face wrinkled, and she began to cry. "He wanted to marry me," shesaid piteously. "He wanted me to promise! But he always has askedme—ever since I was fifteen years old, and I always said no!"

　　"Well, now," Jim said soothingly. "Don't cry. You couldn't help it. Doyou know why he carried a revolver?"

　　"He has to carry it, his business isn't a very safe one," Julia saidshakily. "He's shown it to me once or twice!" Her voice dropped on atrembling note, and her eyes were wild with fright.

　　"Now, Aunt Sanna," said Jim quietly, after telephoning, "I think thatyou and Miss Page ought to get out of here. You'll have a raft ofreporters and busybodies here to-morrow. It's a ghastly thing, ofcourse, and the quieter we keep it the better for every one. I'll managemy end of it. I'll have as conservative an account as I can in thepapers—simply that he was despondent over a love affair and, in a fitof temporary aberration—and so on. Could you close this place up for aweek?"

　　"Certainly!" said Miss Toland, with Spartan promptness, beginning toenjoy the desperate demand of the hour.

　　"And could you take that poor child somewhere, out of the public eye?"

　　"I will indeed, Jim!"

　　"Well, that's the best way to do. You're a trump, Aunt Sanna! I will saythat Miss Page is naturally prostrated, and gone away to friends."

　　"Jim, has that poor boy a chance?"

　　"A chance? No. No; he died instantly. It was straight through the brain.Yes, terrible—naturally. Now, will you take what you need—""Instantly!" said Miss Toland, with a shudder. "Oh, Jim, I'm so gladyou're a doctor," she added weakly, clutching his arm, "and so coldblooded and reliable!"

　　"I'm glad I was here," Jim answered simply. "Hello, look at poor littleMiss Page! She's fainted!"