CHAPTER I
IN SAN ANTONIO
THE musicians were tuning their instruments somewhere behind the palmsin the hotel courtyard. It was one of the older hotels of San Antonio,much sought by Northern tourists on account of that same inner garden,around which the big building stretched itself. The rooms opening on toit had vine-covered balconies, and, looking down from them into thetropical growth of palms and banana trees and roses, one felt that itwas summer time, no matter what the calendar said.
It was on one of the second floor balconies at the close of a Novemberday that Mary Ware stood looking around her with eager eyes. Queen'swreath and moon-vines made such a thick screen that no one could seeher, so she might lean over the railing as far as she pleased to watchthe brilliantly lighted scene below. Electric bulbs were strung throughthe cacti and devil's ivy like elfin lamps. There was a shine of brassbuttons as colored bell boys scudded across the open space with clinkingice-pitchers or jingling keys, and through the glass doors beyond camethe gleam of silver and flowers where the waiters were arranging thetables for dinner.
There was to be a military banquet in one of the private dining-rooms,and already the guests were beginning to arrive for the reception whichwas to precede it. So much bunting was draped over the arch between theoffice corridors and this inner court, that the view was somewhatobscured, but, by leaning dangerously far over the railing, Mary couldcatch a glimpse of the legs of a uniform now and then, strolling alongbeside the trailing skirt of a dainty evening gown.
All this warmth and life and color was in sharp contrast to the drearysolitudes of the snow covered mining camp which she had just left. Ithad been winter for nearly a month up in the hills of Arizona, and LoneRock in the winter was such a barren waste socially that her presentsurroundings seemed wildly exciting. In Lone Rock it was a matter ofcomment whenever a human being passed the house, and even a stray mule,stumbling along with a bell on its neck, was enough to call one to thewindows.
The orchestra behind the palms having finished its tuning, swung into agay two-step. At the sudden burst of music Mary drew a long breath andstood up straight, her pulses a-tingle. Something delightful wasbeginning to happen. Two girls, one in white and one in palelemon-yellow, attended by a young lieutenant and a still younger man incivilian's evening dress, came out under the bunting-draped arch andstrolled along past the banana trees to the garden seat just below her.
From her hiding place behind the moon-vines, Mary watched them as only asociable little soul could watch, who for months had been hungering forsuch companionship. She clutched the railing with both hands, hopingfervently that they would stop.
They did pause for a few moments, just under the balcony, so near thatfor the little while they stood there she could almost feel herself tobe one of the party. She could even smell the white violets that thegirl in white wore on her corsage, and was close enough to see that anamber comb was slipping out of the soft auburn-bronze hair arranged sobecomingly on the graceful little head. Each laugh and gesture sent itslipping lower and lower till involuntarily Mary's hand went out to stopit. Then she drew back in confusion. She had almost called attention toherself by speaking aloud.
"Let's go into the other court," insisted the girl in yellow. "I want toshow you the alligators in the fountain, Mr. Wade, to convince you thatyou're really in the sunny South. Some people can't appreciatealligators--Bogey there, for instance."
Her disdainful glance indicated the lieutenant. "He jeers at me forliking them, but I think they are more interesting than half the peopleone meets."
"_Bogey!_ What a nickname for such a dignified officer," thought Mary,peeping over the railing to see how such banter was received. Evidentlythe lieutenant was accustomed to it, for he smiled indulgently as onewould at a spoiled child.
"'Birds of a feather,' you know," was his answer. "Go on, Roberta. _I_don't care to flock with alligators myself, but if you do we'll followand see it done."
Roberta deigned no reply but a glance intended to be withering, whichfailed in its purpose because it was only counterfeit. Her eyes were asdark as a gypsy's and she had the curliest lashes Mary had ever seen. Aboyish straightforwardness of manner contradicted their coquettishcurliness, however. She had an air that comes only from being brought upin a houseful of teasing brothers. The man in civilian dress, whom shecalled Mr. Wade, watched her as if he had found a new species of girl,uncertain what she might say or do next. He was familiar with thecoquettish kind and with the tom-boy kind, but this combination puzzledhim.
Mary longed to follow as the four went slowly away together into theadjoining court, wholly unconscious that they had left an indeliblememory behind them, or that they had revealed anything of themselves andtheir affairs to an unseen listener. But to Mary it was as if a new bookhad been opened before her and she had been allowed a glimpse of onepage and the attractive picture that illustrated it. It was nevernecessary for her to begin at the first chapter of a book. Often,attracted by some paragraph in the middle, she would plunge into astory, only turning back for the beginning after she had pursued iteagerly through to the last word and found "how it all ended."
"MARY WARE in TEXAS"
"What an adorable little curl"]
Now as the interesting group walked away she fervently hoped that fatewould send them across her path sometime again during her sojourn inSan Antonio, that she might piece together the rest of the story. Allthat she knew now was that the girl in white was a daughter of one ofthe majors at Fort Sam Houston, that the lieutenant had known Robertaever since he was a cadet at the West Texas Military School, and that itwas her brothers who had dubbed him Bogey. She had learned also thatthis was Mr. Wade's first visit to Texas, and that Roberta was trying toimpress him with it by marvelous tales, so that he would decide to spendthe winter in San Antonio instead of going on to Mexico.
But if the conversation revealed little, the picture they made as theystood against the tropical background of palms and banana trees heldmany suggestions. Mary felt that she knew all about lieutenants, havingmet two at a Kentucky house-party where she had gone to be flower-girlat a wedding when she was only fourteen. Fashions evidently had notchanged in lieutenants, since these looked as if they might have beentaken out of the same box that furnished the first soldiers of heracquaintance; but the girls--there had been many changes in girls sinceshe last saw any of this kind. It was eight months since she had leftschool at the end of the Easter vacation, and none of the girls atWarwick Hall were doing their hair then as Roberta and the Major'sdaughter were doing theirs. Each had a very elaborate coiffure with acluster of little short curls escaping to nestle against their whitenecks.
Her attention was especially called to this new style by Roberta'sescort, whom Mary had classified in her mind as a "callow youth with ahabit of making gallant little personal speeches."
When they first stepped into the court Roberta had thrown a white scarfabout her, almost as light as thistledown, and glistening with crystalbeads which spangled its soft meshes like dewdrops. As they turned to goit slipped from her shoulders, and Mr. Wade sprang forward to replaceit. Drawing it around her shoulders he said with a melting glance at herdark hair, "What an adorable little curl!
"'Ringlet, O Ringlet, she blushed a rosy red, When Ringlet, O Ringlet, she clipped you from her head!'"
Mary, who knew her Tennyson like her multiplication table, recalled thenext lines,
"Ringlet, O Ringlet, she gave you me and said, 'Come kiss it, love, and put it by, If this can change, why, so can I.'"
Roberta only laughed, not in the least impressed by his manner norembarrassed by the inference of his quotation. Mary knew that she couldnot copy the curls, but she decided to try the rest of the coiffure inthe morning. Not a single twist or wave had escaped her sharp eyes. Inthe darkness of her retreat, after they had gone, she put her hands toher head, rehearsing in pantomime each move she would have to make toproduce the result she admired.
Suddenl
y her hands dropped and one clutched the railing, as the windowshutters of the next room were thrown open with a bang and some onestepped out on to the balcony adjoining hers. The intruder was a largeand elderly woman in a rustling black dress. The light from the roomstreaming out behind her showed that she was portly and gray-haired, andthe way she peered through the vines, changing quickly from oneview-point to another, showed that she was impatient.
When she turned, Mary saw that her dress, which was made to fasten inthe back, was open from collar to belt, and she readily guessed thetrouble. Forgetting that her presence was unknown to the anxiouswatcher, she leaned forward through the dark, saying politely, "Can Ihelp you, Madam?"
If a hand had reached out and grabbed her, the old lady could not havebeen more startled. With a stifled shriek she backed up against the wallto hide her open bodice, and stood there limp and panting.
"Merciful _fathers_! how you scared me!" she breathed as Mary's faceappeared in the full light. When she saw only a little school-girl ofseventeen or thereabouts her relief found vent in a hysterical giggle.It shook her plump shoulders until they both started to laughing so hardthat she could barely find voice to explain, or Mary to apologize.
"I just couldn't get my dress hooked up the back," she finally managedto say. "I rang half a dozen times for a chambermaid, but the ones onthis floor all seem to be off duty this time of evening, and I won't aska bell-boy as some of the ladies do. I don't think it's decent. So Ijust thought I'd look down into the court and see if I couldn't catchsight of James. He did it yesterday and I vowed I'd never ask him again.He's willing enough, but he kept me standing a solid half hour by theclock, and we were both tuckered out when he got through."
"Let me come and do it for you," said Mary with her usual alacrity forfollowing up promising beginnings.
"Oh, if you only would!" was the grateful answer. "I'll go in and unlockthe door--"
Before she could finish her sentence Mary had climbed lightly over therailing which divided their balconies, and was following her into herroom through the long windows that opened to the floor.
"Do you know," confided the old lady while Mary deftly fastened thehooks, "I think a hotel is the lonesomest place on the face of the globefor a woman. I come down here once a year or so with my husband, and hehas a good time sitting around in the lobby smoking and making friendswith stockmen like himself, but by the end of the second day I'mhomesick for the ranch. Of course I enjoy the stores and the crowds onthe street, and seeing all the finely dressed tourists at meal-times,but we've been down here three days now, and you're the first personI've spoken to besides the chambermaid and James. It's all right forstrangers to keep themselves to themselves I suppose, but I must sayit's a sort of strain when it comes to being the stranger yourself. Iwant somebody to neighbor with."
"So do I," responded Mary with such heartiness that the old ladyinstantly expanded into warm friendliness. Before she was fairlyfastened into her rustling black and purple gown she had confided toMary that it was her very best one, and that it just wouldn't wear out,because it was too fine for church and she had no occasion to put it onsave when she made her rare visits to San Antonio. The sleeves had beenchanged so many times to keep it in fashion, that her dressmaker hadrefused to alter it another time, even if the lace on it did cost fivedollars a yard. James said why didn't she wear it at home and get donewith it. But she told him much comfort a body would take around home inthe tight gear a dressmaker boned you up in. But she'd have to dosomething, for full skirts were clear out now, and she felt like aballoon when other people were going around as slim and lank as starvedsnakes.
"It doesn't take long to get out of date," she added, "when you'reliving up in the hills in the back-woods."
"Oh, I know that," agreed Mary. "I've been living in a lonesome littlespot out in Arizona for so long that I've nearly forgotten whatcivilization is like."
"You don't look like it," was the frank comment as the still frankergaze of her listener travelled over her dress from top to bottom, notingevery detail.
"Oh, this," answered Mary, as if the eyes had spoken. "This is a dressthat I got in New York last Easter vacation. I was in school atWashington, but as I had to leave at the end of the term and go backhome I've had no occasion to wear it since. That's why it looks so new."
"Now do sit down and tell me about it," urged her hostess hospitably."I've always wanted to go to Washington."
She pushed forward a low rocker, and took the arm chair opposite withsuch a look of pleasurable anticipation on her kindly old face, thatMary obeyed. She knew how it felt to be fairly bursting with asociability for which there was no outlet. She had experienced that samesensation a few minutes before when she watched Roberta and the Major'sdaughter go by with their friends. Besides, she felt a real liking forthis companionable old lady who introduced herself as Mrs. Barnaby ofBauer, Texas. Mrs. James Barnaby.
"She's the real, comfortable, homey sort," thought Mary, who had beenmuch given of late to classifying people. "She's like missionfurniture--plain and simple and genuine. She'd be her simpleunpretentious self no matter what gilt and veneer she found herselfamong."
Mary was proud of her insight afterward when she learned more about Mrs.Barnaby's family. They had come out from Ohio over fifty years beforewhen she was so young that she could barely remember the great prairieschooner that brought them. They had suffered all the hardships of theearly Texas settlers, gone through the horrors of the Indian uprisings,and fought their way through with sturdy pioneer fortitude to the placewhere they could fold their hands and enjoy the comforts of thecivilization they had helped to establish.
She told Mary little of this now, however, but led her on with manyquestions to talk of herself. Mrs. Barnaby had a lively curiosity andalways took the most straightforward means to gratify it.
"She's interested in people, no matter who they are, just as I am,"thought Mary, instantly recognizing the spirit which prompted thequestions, and for that reason was led on to tell more than she wouldhave told to most strangers. She did not take the world at large intoher confidence now as she had done in her chatterbox days. In just a fewmoments Mrs. Barnaby had a very fair snapshot picture of the Warefamily in her mind. Mary had given it very simply.
"I had gone from school at Warwick Hall to New York, to spend the Eastervacation with my sister Joyce. She's an artist and has her studio there.And we got word that my oldest brother, Jack, had been dreadfully hurtin an accident at the mines where he was manager--that it had made him acripple for life. We all just adore Jack, so of course I packed up andwent straight back to Arizona. It wasn't possible for Joyce to leavejust then, and my brother Holland is in the navy, and of course hecouldn't get away. Except the trained nurse there was nobody with mammaat the time but my youngest brother Norman, and as he is only fourteen Ifelt that I had to go."
"I hope he got better right away," interrupted Mrs. Barnaby eagerly.
"Yes, he did for awhile. He even got so that he could wheel himselfaround in his chair and go down to the office awhile every morning. Butas soon as the cold weather set in he began to have such dreadfulrheumatism that the doctor said the only thing to do was to take him toa milder climate. So we got ready right away and brought him downhere."
"It must have been a hard trip for him," commented Mrs. Barnaby with asympathetic shake of the head. "Arizona always did seem to me like thejumping-off place. I don't see how you managed it, him in a wheeledchair and so helpless."
"Oh, we came in a private car," Mary made haste to explain, "and Jackreally enjoyed the trip. Waffles, the old colored cook on the car, youknow, just laid himself out to please him, and the porter was so strongand helpful."
"H'm!" exclaimed her interested listener. "I've always thought I'd liketo travel in a private car. It must be such a nice way to get over thecountry. But it isn't everybody that can afford it."
It was on the tip of Mary's honest little tongue to explain that it wasnot their car. They had come as guests
of Mr. Robeson, one of the mineowners. But Mrs. Barnaby interrupted her with a question.
"Didn't you all go out in a big red automobile this afternoon? I've beentrying to think ever since you came in here where it was I'd seen youbefore, and I believe it was with that party. There was a little lady inblack and a boy and a rather heavy-set man with iron gray whiskers. Iheard him giving orders to the chauffeur to go out to the missions."
"Yes," agreed Mary, "that was Mr. Robeson, one of the owners of themine. He's so fond of Jack and has been so lovely to all of us on hisaccount. His valet stayed with Jack while we went out to see the town.He's going on to Mexico this afternoon."
Again she was on the point of saying that it was as Mr. Robeson's gueststhey had enjoyed the outing in the expensive car, but another questionswitched her off to another subject and left Mrs. Barnaby with theimpression that the Wares were wealthy beyond computation. Mary had themanner of one always accustomed to luxury, and her easy way of referringto the studio in New York and the private car and the valet made onethink she was born to purple and fine linen.
The impression was deepened later, when the Barnabys found themselves atthe same table with Mary and Norman in the dining-room. "Mrs. Ware washaving dinner in her rooms with Jack," Mary explained. He was sensitiveabout being wheeled into a public dining-room, so she and her motherwould take turns staying with him.
With a brief glance at the menu card Mary ordered dinner for herself andbrother before Mr. Barnaby had adjusted his glasses on his long nose andstumbled half-way through the menu. He always read the bill of farealoud to his wife, pronouncing the French words exactly as they werespelled, and they paused to discuss the nature of each unfamiliar dishwith the amused waiter before ordering.
The ease with which Mary ordered gave further evidence to Mrs. Barnabythat the Wares had always been accustomed to sumptuous living, and tobeing "waited on, hand and foot." And it was proof to Mary that "James"was as genuine and primitive as his wife when he made no attempt tocover his ignorance of French menus. Looking up with a twinkle in hiseyes he said to the waiter, "Just bring me the same as my wife ordered."Then he added with an odd one-sided smile that gave an irresistibleexpression of humor to his face, "I always take the blazed trail whenthere is one. It's a heap sight safer than striking out for yourselfwhen you're in tall timber."
Evidently Mrs. Barnaby had told him all that she had learned of the Warefamily, for he at once began making minute inquiries about Arizona andthe mines, with the interest of a shrewd, genial old man who kept pacewith the times and liked the companionship of young people. They werewarm friends before the meal was over, and Mary hurried up-stairsafterward, to report all she could remember to Jack. She had fallen intothe habit of making the most of everything she saw and heard, for hisentertainment.
She found him in his chair, out on the balcony with her mother, lookingdown on the same scene she had watched earlier in the evening. Mrs. Warehad just tucked a lap-robe around him and drawn a wrap over her ownshoulders when Mary opened the door of the room behind them, and startedacross the floor to join them.
Some letters had been sent up while she was at dinner and seeing one onthe table addressed to herself, she paused to read it before joiningthem. It was just a note from one of the girls at Warwick Hall, who,knowing Mary's fondness for the beautiful old garden there, alwaysenclosed some leaf or flower from it every time she wrote. This timeseveral violets fell out, withered but still sweet. As Mary stooped topick them up she heard Jack say in a voice so full of hearty enjoymentthat she scarcely recognized it for his: "This certainly is great! Whata world of things we've been missing all these years, little mother! Inever realized just how much we have missed till I went East lastyear. Then afterwards the days were so full of work and the newresponsibilities that I didn't have time to think about it much. But Ican see now what a dull gray existence _you've_ had, for as far back asI can remember there's only been three backgrounds for you: a littleKansas village, a tent on the edge of the Arizona desert, and a lonelymining camp. How long has it been since you've seen a sight like this?"
The scattered violets were all picked up now, but Mary still stood bythe table, waiting for her mother's reply.
"It's so long ago I'll have to stop and count up. Let me see. You'retwenty-two and Joyce twenty-three--really it's almost a quarter of acentury since I've been in a large city, and seen anything like this inthe way of illuminations, with music and crowds. Your father took me toNew York the winter after we were married. Before that I'd always had myfull share. I'd visited a great deal and travelled with Cousin Kate andher father. And I'm sure that no one could want anything brighter andsweeter and more complete than life as I found it as a girl, in 'my oldKentucky home.' As I had so much more than most people the first part ofmy life I couldn't complain when I had less afterwards. But I certainlydo enjoy this," she added earnestly, as the orchestra began thehaunting air of the Mexican "Swallow Song," _La Golondrina_, and theodor of roses stole up from below. The court was filled now with gaylittle groups of people who had the air of finding life one continualholiday.
The cheeriness of the reply almost brought tears to Mary's eyes, as sherealized for the first time how much more than any of them her mothermust have suffered from the hardships of their early poverty, because itwas in such sharp contrast to what she had known before. To hide thelittle quiver that wanted to creep into her voice Mary laughed as shejoined them, dragging a chair through the French window after her.
"Here you sit like two comfortable cats in the lap of luxury," she said."You'll begin to purr soon."
"That's exactly what we're doing now," answered Jack. "We'recongratulating ourselves on being in this land of summer with everycomfort at hand and a free show to entertain us. This is as good asbeing in a box-party at the opera."
Mary settled herself with her chair tipped back on its rockers, andlooked down on the court below. "I wish we could stay at this hotel allwinter," she exclaimed. "I wish we could be as rich all the time as Ifeel to-night. Ever since we started South in Mr. Robeson's car I'vefelt as opulent and as elegant as if we owned the earth, and I'venoticed that you and mamma take to luxury quite as readily as I do--likeducks to water. Norman is learning fast, too, for one of hisopportunities. He's having the time of his life now, down in the lobby,just 'seein' things at night.' He asked me for a quarter when I lefthim, to get some postcards of the Alamo and the plaza to send home."
"Well?" queried Jack as she paused. Mary had had the family finances inhand since his illness, and her economical clutch had earned her thetitle of "Watch-dog of the Treasury."
"Oh, I gave it to him," she answered. "Gave it with a lordly sweep ofthe hand, as if bestowing millions were a daily habit of mine. Butto-morrow it will be a different story. To-morrow a copper cent may betoo great a boon for my family to ask me to part with. To-morrow we gohouse-hunting, with the sad realization that we're all as poor as Job'sold blue turkey hen."
"What's the odds so long as you're happy," quoted Jack. There was a longpause in which they listened to the music, each enjoying to the fullestthe novelty of being in such a place. Then Jack asked, "Didn't you haveany adventures down in the dining-room? We rather expected that you'dhave a series of them to report."
"Mercy, yes! I've had half a dozen since I saw you last, very mild onesthough. I've seen some most interesting people, a major's daughter and alieutenant from the Post, called Bogey, and I overheard the beginning ofa romance, a most sentimental request for an 'adorable little curl,' andI've hooked Mrs. James Barnaby of Bauer, Texas, up in her best black andpurple gown, and James himself has invited me to take 'pot luck' withthem up at the Barnaby ranch any time I choose to go. He's a dear and sois she, and if you'd only--"
Her chatter was stopped by a sudden exclamation from Jack, and followinghis gaze into the court below she saw two of the group in which she hadbeen so interested earlier in the evening.
"That's the lieutenant I told you about!" she exclaimed excitedly."That's Bogey,
and the other is the major's daughter. I don't wonderthat you're stunned at the sight of a pretty girl like that when it'sbeen such ages since you have seen one."
"I'm stunned because it happens to be a girl I know," exclaimed Jack ina tone almost as excited as her own. "That's Gay Melville, and I met herat The Locusts the night I stopped in Lloydsboro Valley with theShermans."
"Are you sure?" gasped Mary.
"Dead sure! She played the violin that evening, and you can't take youreyes off her face when she plays, it's so sweet, and you could neverforget it after you'd watched her through one performance. Then herhair--there's no mistaking _that_, and that little trick of lifting herchin. Besides, it's no surprising matter to see her. She lives here andshe's a popular girl."
"Oh, I know it!" exclaimed Mary, "and I've known all the time that herhome is in San Antonio. Haven't I heard the Warwick Hall seniors talk ofher by the hour? But somehow I never put two and two together and got itthrough my head that we're in the same town. Really I'd forgotten her inthe excitement of our sudden coming. But now it just takes me off myfeet to know that we're under the same roof, and to remember that shelived a whole summer in Lloydsboro Valley and is such a dear friend ofthe Little Colonel and Betty. Why, we're _bound_ to meet her some timethis winter. Oh, I know we're going to have a good time here, and Ithink that San Antonio is just the dearest, most charming old place inthe world."
"It is certainly a good place to be to-night," answered Jack, followingwith intent gaze the vanishing figure of the major's pretty daughter."And to-morrow--"
He did not finish the sentence, for the violins were throbbing throughthat last refrain of _La Golondrina_ so softly and sweetly that he didnot want to lose a note. When it was done Mary took up his last word,quoting with a dramatic sweep of the hand, "To-morrow do thy worst, forI have lived to-day!"
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