CHAPTER V
DEBATABLE QUESTIONS
Evelyn Porter had come home in June to take her place as mistress of herfather's house. The fact that she alone of the girls belonging tofamilies of position in the town had gone to college had set her alittle apart from the others. During her four years at Smith she hadevinced no unusual interest in acquiring knowledge; she was a fairstudent only and had been graduated without honors save those which herclass had admiringly bestowed on her. She had entered into social andathletic diversions with zest and had been much more popular with herfellow students than with the faculty. She brought home no ambition saveto make her father's home as comfortable as possible. She said toherself that she would keep up her French and German, and straightwayput books within reach to this end. She had looked with wonder unmixedwith admiration upon the strenuous woman as she had seen her, full ofambition to remake the world in less than six days; and she dreaded thetype with the dread natural in a girl of twenty-two who has a soundappetite, a taste in clothes, with money to gratify it, and a liking forfresh air and sunshine.
She found it pleasant to slip back into the life of the town; and thegirl friends or older women who met her on summer mornings in theshopping district of Clarkson, remarked to one another and reported totheir sons and husbands, that Evelyn Porter was at home to stay, andthat she was just as cordial and friendly as ever and had no airs. Itpleased Evelyn to find that the clerks in the shops remembered her andcalled her by name; and there was something homelike and simple andcharacteristic in the way women that met in the shops visited with oneanother in these places. She caught their habit of going into Vortini'sfor soda water, where she found her acquaintances of all ages sitting attables, with their little parcels huddled in their laps, discussingabsentees and the weather. She found, in these encounters, that most ofthe people she knew were again agitated, as always at this season,because Clarkson was no cooler than in previous years; and that thewomen were expressing their old reluctance to leave their husbands, whocould not get away for more than two weeks, if at all. Some were alreadypreparing for Mackinac or Oconomowoc or Wequetonsing, and a few of themore adventurous for the remoter coasts of New Jersey and Massachusetts.The same people were discussing these same questions in the same oldspirit, and, when necessary, confessing with delightful frankness theirfinancial disabilities, in excusing their presence in town at a seasonwhen it was only an indulgence of providence that all the inhabitantsdid not perish from the heat.
As a child Evelyn had played in the tower of the house on the hill, andshe now made a den of it. Some of her childish playthings were stillhidden away in the window seat, and stirred freshly the remembrance ofher mother,--her gentleness, her frailty, her interest in the world'swork. She often wondered whether the four years at college had realizedall that her dead mother had hoped for; but she was not morbid, and shedid not brood. She found a pleasure in stealing up to the tower in thesummer nights, and watching the shifting lights of the great railwayyards far down the valley, but at such times she had no romanticvisions. She knew that the fitful bell of the switch engine and therumble of wheels symbolized the very practical life of this restlessregion in which she had been born. She cherished no delusion that shewas a princess in a tower, waiting for a lover to come riding from eastor west. She had always shared with her companions the young men whovisited her at college. When they sometimes sent her small gifts, shehad shared these also. Warrick Raridan had gone to see her severaltimes, as an old friend, and he had on these occasions, withcharacteristic enterprise, made the most of the opportunity to widen hisacquaintance among Evelyn's friends, to whom she frankly introduced him.
On the day following John Saxton's introduction to the house, Evelyn wasbusy pouring oil on rusty places in the domestic machinery, when threecards were brought up to her bearing unfamiliar names. They belonged,she imagined, to some of the newer people of the town who had come toClarkson during her years from home.
"Mrs. Atherton?" she said inquiringly, pausing before the trio in thedrawing-room.
Two of the ladies looked toward the third, with whom Evelyn shookhands.
"Miss Morris and Mrs. Wingate," murmured the lady identified as Mrs.Atherton. They all sat down.
"It's so very nice to know that you are at home again," said Mrs.Atherton, "although I've not had the pleasure of meeting you before. Iknew your mother very well, many years ago, but I have been away for along time and have only recently come back to Clarkson.
"It is very pleasant to be at home again," Evelyn responded.
Mrs. Atherton smiled nervously and looked pointedly at her companions,evidently expecting them to participate in the conversation. The youngerwoman, who had been presented as Miss Morris, sat rigid in a giltreception chair. She was of severe aspect and glared at Mrs. Atherton,who threw herself again into the breach.
"I hope you do not dislike the West?" Mrs. Atherton inquired of Evelyn.
"No, indeed! On the other hand I am very proud of it. You know I am anative here, and very loyal."
Miss Morris seized this as if it had been her cue, and declared insevere tones:
"We of the West are fortunate in living away from the artificiality ofthe East. There is some freedom here; the star of empire hovers here;the strength of the nation lies in the rugged but honest people of thegreat West, who gave Lincoln to the nation and the nation to Liberty."There was a glitter of excitement in the woman's eyes, but she spoke inlow monotonous tones. Evelyn thought for a moment that this wasconscious hyperbole, but Miss Morris's aspect of unrelenting severityundeceived her. Something seemed to be expected of her, and Evelyn said:
"That is all very true, but, you know, they say down East that we arefar too thoroughly persuaded of our greatness and brag too much."
"But," continued Miss Morris, "they are coming to us more and more forstatesmen. Look at literature! See what our western writers are doing!The most vital books we are now producing are written west of theAlleghanies!"
"You know Miss Morris is a writer," interrupted Mrs. Atherton. "Weshould say Doctor Morris," she continued, with a rising inflection onthe title,--"not an M.D. Miss Morris is a doctor of philosophy."
"Oh," said Evelyn. "What college, Doctor Morris?"
"The University of North Dakota," with emphasis on the university. "Ihad intended going to Heidelberg, but felt that we loyal Americansshould patronize home institutions. The choruses of Euripides may ringas grandly on our Western plains as in Athens itself," she added withfinality. She enunciated with great care and seemed terribly in earnestto Evelyn, who felt an uncontrollable desire to laugh. But there was,she now imagined, something back of all this, and she waited patientlyfor its unfolding. The denouement was, she hoped, near at hand, for MissMorris moved her eyeglasses higher up on her nose and appeared even moreformidable than before.
"I have heard that great emphasis is laid at Smith on social andpolitical economy. You must be very anxious to make practical use ofyour knowledge," continued Miss Morris.
Evelyn recalled guiltily her cuts in these studies.
"Carlyle or somebody"--she was afraid to quote before a doctor ofphilosophy, and thought it wise to give a vague citation--"callspolitical economy the dismal science, and I'm afraid I have looked at ita little bit that way myself." She smiled hopefully, but Miss Morris didnot relax her severity.
"Civic responsibility rests on women as strongly as on men; even moreso," declared Miss Morris.
"Well, I think we ought to do what we can," assented Evelyn.
"Now, our Local Council has been doing a great deal toward improving thesanitation of Clarkson."
"Oh yes," exclaimed Mrs. Wingate from her corner.
"And we feel that every educated woman in the community should lend heraid to all the causes of the Local Council."
"Yes?" said Evelyn, rather weakly. She felt that the plot wasthickening. "I really know very little of such things, but--" The "but"was highly equivocal.
"And we are very anxious to g
et a representative on the School Board,"continued Miss Morris. "The election is in November. Has it everoccurred to you how perfectly absurd it is for men to conduct oureducational affairs when the schools are properly a branch of the homeand should be administered, in part, at least, by women?" She punctuatedher talk so that her commas cut into the air. Mrs. Wingate, the thirdand silent lady, approved this more or less inarticulately.
"I know there's a great deal in that," said Evelyn.
"And we, the Executive Committee of the Council, have been directed toask you"--Mrs. Wingate and Mrs. Atherton moved nervously in their seats,but Miss Morris now spoke with more deliberation, and with pedagogiccare of her pronunciation--"to become a candidate for the School Board."
Evelyn felt a cold chill creeping over her, and swallowed hard in aneffort to summon some word to meet this shock.
"Your social position," continued Miss Morris volubly, "and the prestigewhich you as a bachelor of arts have brought home from college, make youa most natural candidate."
"Destiny really seems to be pointing to you," said Mrs. Atherton, withcoaxing sweetness in her tone.
"Oh, but I couldn't think of it!" exclaimed Evelyn, recovering hercourage. "I have had no experience in such matters! Why, that would bepolitics!--and I have always felt,--it has seemed to me,--I simply can'tconsider it!"
She had gained her composure now. She had been called a bachelor ofarts, and she felt an impulse to laugh.
"Ah! we had expected that it would seem strange to you at first," saidMrs. Atherton, who appeared to be in charge of the grand strategy of thecall, while Miss Morris carried the rapid firing guns and Mrs. Wingatelent moral support, as of a shore battery.
Mrs. Atherton had risen.
"We have all set our hearts on it, and you must not decline. Think itover well, and when you come to the first meeting of the Council inSeptember, you will, I am sure, be convinced of your duty."
"Yes; a very solemn obligation that wealth and education have laid uponyou," Miss Morris amplified.
"A solemn obligation," echoed Mrs. Wingate.
The three filed out, Miss Morris leading the way, while Mrs. Athertonlingeringly covered their retreat with a few words that were intended toconvey a knowledge of the summer frivolities then pending.
"I should be very glad to have you come to see me at my rooms," saidMiss Morris, wheeling in her short skirt as she reached the door. "Ihave rooms in the AEtna Building."
"Do come and see us, too," murmured the convoy, smiling in relief asthey turned away.
Evelyn sat down in the nearest chair and laughed.
"I wonder whether they think college has made me like that?" she askedherself.
At dinner she gave her father a humorous account of the interview. Grantwas away dining with a playmate and they were alone. Porter was in oneof his perverse moods, and he began gruffly:
"I should like to know why not! Haven't I spent thousands of dollars onyour education? The lady was right; you are, at least so I haveunderstood, a bachelor of arts. Why a bachelor I'm sure I don't know--"He was buttering a bit of bread with deliberation and did not look atEvelyn, who waited patiently, knowing that he would have his whim out.
"It seems to me," he went on, "a proper recognition of your talents andeducation, and also of me, as one of the oldest citizens of Clarkson. Itell you it is good to get a little recognition once in a while. I havea painful recollection of having been defeated for School Commissionerabout ten years ago. Now here's a chance for the family to redeemitself. Of course you accepted the nomination, and after your electionI'll expect you to bring the school funds to my bank, and I'll say toyou now that the directors will do the right thing by you."
He was still avoiding Evelyn's eyes, but his humor was growing impatientfor recognition.
"Now, father!" she pleaded, and they laughed together.
"Father," she said seriously, "I don't want these people here to get anidea that I'm not an ordinary being."
"That's an astonishing statement," he began, ready for further banter;but she would not have it.
"There are," she said, "certain things that a woman ought to do, whethershe's educated or not; and I have ideas about that. So you think thesepeople here are expecting great things of me,--"
"Of course they are, and with reason," said Porter, still anxious toreturn to his joke.
"But I do not intend to have it! When I'm forty years old I may changemy mind, but right now I want--"
She hesitated.
"Well, what do you want, child?" he said gently, with the fun gone outof his voice. They had had their coffee, and she sat with her elbow onthe table and her chin in her hand.
"Why, I'm afraid I want to have a good time," she declared, rising.
"And that's just what I want you to have, child," he said kindly,putting his arm about her as they went out together.
Evelyn declined the honor offered her by the local council, at longrange, in a note to Doctor Morris, giving no reasons beyond herunfamiliarity with political and school matters. These she knew wouldnot be considered adequate by Doctor Morris, but the latter, afterwriting a somewhat caustic reply, in which she dwelt upon the newwoman's duties and responsibilities, immediately announced her owncandidacy. The incident was closed as far as Evelyn was concerned andshe was not again approached in the matter.
Her father continued to joke about it, and a few weeks later, when theywere alone, referred to it in a way which she knew by experience wasmerely a feint that concealed some serious purpose. Men of Porter's ageare usually clumsy in dealing with their own children, and Porter was noexception. When he had anything of weight on his mind to discuss withEvelyn, he brooded over it for several days before attacking her. Hismanner with men was easy, and he was known down town as a good bluffer;but he stood not a little in awe of his daughter.
"I suppose things will be gay here this winter," he said, as they sattogether on the porch.
"About the same old story, I imagine. The people and their ways don'tseem to have changed much."
"You must have some parties yourself. Better start them up early. Getsome of the college girls out, and turn it on strong."
"Well, I shan't want to overdo it. I don't want to be a nuisance to you,and entertaining isn't as easy as it looks."
"It'll do me good, too," he replied. He fidgeted in his chair and playedwith his hat, which, however, he did not remove, but shifted from oneside to the other, smoking his cigar meanwhile without taking it fromhis mouth. He rose and walked out to one of his sprinklers which hadbeen placed too near the walk and kicked it off into the grass. Shewatched him with a twinkle in her eyes, and then laughed. "What is it,father?" she asked, when he came back to the porch.
"What's what?" he replied, with assumed irritation. He knew that he mustnow face the music, and grew composed at once.
"Well, it's this,--" with sudden decision.
"Yes, I knew it was something," she said, still laughing and not willingto make it too easy for him.
"You know the Knights of Midas are quite an institution here--boom thetown, and give a fall festival every year. The idea is to get thecountry people in to spend their money. Lots of tom-foolishness aboutit,--swords and plumes and that kind of rubbish; but we all have to goin for it. Local pride and so on."
"Yes; do you want me to join the Knights?"
"No, not precisely. But you see, they have a ball every year inconnection with the festival, with a queen and maids of honor. I guessyou've never seen one of these things, as they have them in October, andyou've always been away at school. Now the committee on entertainmenthas been after me to see if you'd be queen of the ball this year--"
"Oh!--" ominously.
"Just hold on a minute." He was wholly at ease now, and assumed themanner which he had found effective in dealing with obstreperouscustomers of his bank. "I'm free to say that I don't like the idea ofthis myself particularly. There's a lot of publicity about it and youknow I don't like that--and the newspapers make
an awful fuss. But yousee it isn't wise for us"--he laid emphasis on the pronoun--"to set upto be better than other people. Now", with a twinkle in his eye, "youturned down this School Board business the other day and said you wantedto have a good time, just like other girls, and I reckon most of thegirls in town would be tickled at a chance like this--"
"And you want me to do it, father? Is that what you mean? But it must beperfectly awful,--the crowd and the foolish mummery."
"Well, there's one thing sure, you'll never have to do it a secondtime." Porter smiled reassuringly.
"But I haven't said I'd do it once, father."
"I'd like to have you; I'd like it very much, and should appreciate yourdoing it. But don't say anything about it." Some callers were coming upthe walk, so the matter was dropped. Porter recurred to the subjectagain next day, and Evelyn saw that he wished very much to have her takepart in the carnival, but the idea did not grow pleasanter as sheconsidered it. It was quite true, as she had told her father, that shewanted to enjoy herself after the manner of other young women, andwithout constant reference to her advantages, as she had heard themcalled; but the thought of a public appearance in what she felt to be avery ridiculous function did not please her. On the other hand, herfather rarely asked anything of her and he would not have made thisrequest without considering it carefully beforehand.
In her uncertainty she went for advice to Mrs. Whipple, the wife of aretired army officer, who had been her mother's friend. Mrs. Whipple wasa woman of wide social experience and unusual common sense. She hadsettled in her day many of those distressing complications which ariseat military posts in times of national peace. Young officers still cameto her for advice in their love affairs, which she always tookseriously, but not too seriously. Warry Raridan maintained unjustly thatMrs. Whipple's advice was bad, but that it did the soul good to see howmuch joy she got out of giving it. The army had communicated both socialdignity and liveliness to Clarkson, as to many western cities which hadmilitary posts for neighbors. In the old times when civilians were busywith the struggle for bread and had little opportunity for socialrecreation, army men and women had leisure for a punctilious courtesy.The mule-drawn ambulance was a picturesque feature of the urbanlandscape as it bore the army women about the rough streets of the newcities; it was not elegant, but it was so eminently respectable! Theremight be an occasional colonel that was a snob, or a major that dranktoo much; or a Mrs. Colonel who was a trifle too conscious of her rightsover her sisters at the Post, or a Mrs. Major whose syntax wasunbearable; but the stars and stripes covered them all, even as theycover worse people and worse errors in our civil administrators.
It gave Evelyn a pleasant sensation to find herself again in the littleWhipple parlor. The furniture was the same that she remembered of old inthe commandant's house at the fort. It had at last found repose, for theWhipples' marching days were over. They made an effort to have an Indianroom, where they kept their books, but they refrained from calling theplace a library. On the walls were the headdress of a Sioux chief, and afew colored photographs of red men; the couch was covered with a Navajoblanket, and on the floor were wolf and bear skins. When chairs wereneeded for callers, the general brought them in from other rooms; hehimself sat in a canvas camp chair, which he said was more comfortablethan any other kind, but which was prone to collapse under a civilian.The wastepaper-basket by the general's table, and a basket for fire-woodwere of Indian make, dyed in dull shades of red and green.
"My dear child," Mrs. Whipple began, when Evelyn had explained hererrand; "this is a very pretty compliment they're paying you,--don't youknow that?"
"Yes, but I don't want it," declared the girl, with emphasis.
"That is wholly unreasonable. There are girls in Clarkson that could notafford to take it; the strength of your position is that you can affordto do it! It's not going to injure you in any way; can't you see that?Everybody knows all about you,--that you naturally wouldn't want it.Why, there's that Margrave girl, whose father does something or other inone of the railways,--she had this honor that is worrying you two yearsago, and her father and all his friends worked hard to get it for her."
Evelyn laughed at her friend's earnestness. "I'm afraid you're trying tolift this to an impersonal plane, but I'm considering myself in thismatter. I simply don't want to be mixed up in that kind of thing."
"These business men work awfully hard for all of us," Mrs. Whipplecontinued. "It seems to me that their daily business contests andtroubles are fiercer than real wars. I'd a lot rather take my chances inthe army than in commercial life,--if I were doing it all overagain,--that is, from the woman's side. The government always gives usour bread if it can't supply the butter; and if the poor men lose afight they are forgiven and we still eat. But in the business battle--"she shrugged her shoulders to indicate the sorry plight of thevanquished.
"Yes, I suppose that's all true," Evelyn conceded. "But you mustn't beso abstract! I really haven't a philosophical mind. I came here to askyou to tell me how to get out of this, but you seem to be urging me in!"
Mrs. Whipple rallied her forces while she poured the iced tea which amaid had brought.
"We can't always have our 'ruthers.' Now this looks like a very largesacrifice of comfort and dignity to you. I'll grant you the discomfort,but not any loss of dignity. If you were vain and foolish, I'd take yourside, just to protect you, but you have no such weaknesses. You must notconsider at all that girls in Eastern cities don't do such things;that's because there aren't the things to do. Our great-grandchildrenwon't be doing them either. But these carnivals, and things like that,are necessary evils of our development. Army people like ourselves, whohave always been cared for by a paternal government, can hardlyappreciate the troubles of business people; and a girl like you, who hasalways led a carefully sheltered life, with both comforts and luxuriesgiven her without the asking, must try to appreciate the fact thateverybody is not so fortunate. I don't know whether these affairs arereally of any advantage to the town commercially; I have heard businessmen say that they are not; but so long as they have them, the rest of ushave got to submit to the confetti throwers and the country brass bands,on the theory that it's good for the town."
Mrs. Whipple covered all the ground when she talked. She had daringlyaddressed department commanders in this ample fashion when her husbandwas only a second lieutenant, and she was not easily driven from herposition.
"But what's good for the town isn't necessarily good for me," pleadedEvelyn. Her animation was becoming, and Mrs. Whipple was noting thepoints of the girl's beauty with delight. "Any other girl's clotheswould look just as sweet to the multitude," Evelyn asserted.
"That's where you are mistaken. If it's a sacrifice, the town isoffering Iphigenia, and only our fairest daughter will do. I'll betalking fine language in a minute, and one of us will be lost." Shelaughed; Mrs. Whipple always laughed at herself at the right moment. Shesaid it discounted the pleasure other people might have in laughing ather. "Now Evelyn Porter, you're a nice girl and a sensible one. So faras you can see you're going to spend your days in this town, and itisn't a bad place. We preferred to live here after the general retiredbecause we liked it, and that was when we had the world to choose from.I've lived in every part of this country, but the people in this regionare simple and honest and wholesome, and they have human hearts in them,and at my age that counts for a good deal. The general and I were bothborn in Massachusetts, where you hear a lot about ancestors andbackground; but I've driven over these plains and prairies in an armyambulance, since before the Civil War, and it hasn't all been fun,either; I love every mile of the country, and I don't want you, who arethe apple of my eye, to come home with patronizing airs--"
"Not guilty!" exclaimed Evelyn throwing up her hands in protest. "I haveno such ideas and you know it; but you ignore the point. What I can'tsee is that there's any question of patriotism in this Knights of Midasaffair, as far as I'm concerned, and I'm not so young as I was. Thequeen of the ball should be much
younger than I am."
"Well, if you're reduced to that kind of argument, I think we'll have tocall the debate closed. But remember,--you're asked to give only an hourof your life to please your father, and a great many other people. Andyou'll be doing your town a great service, too."
"Well," said Evelyn dolefully, as she got up to go, "this isn't the kindof counsel I came for. If I'd expected this from you, I'd have taken mytroubles elsewhere." She had risen and stood swinging her parasol backand forth and regarding the tip of her boot. "You almost make it seemright."
"You'd better make a note of it as one of those things that are notpleasant, but necessary. If I thought it would harm you, child, I'dcertainly warn you against it--I'd do that for your mother's sake."
"I like your saying that," said Evelyn, softly.
Mrs. Whipple had been a beauty in the old army days, and was still ahandsome woman. She had retained the slenderness of her girlhood, andthe hot suns and blighting winds of the plains and mountains had dealtgently with her. She took both of Evelyn's hands at the door, and kissedher.
"Don't go away hating me, dear. Come up often; and after it's all over,I'll tell you how good you've been."
"Oh, I'll go to a convent afterward," Evelyn answered; "that is, if Ifind that you've really persuaded me!"
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