The Major Part 37

"No," said Mrs. Waring-Gaunt, "but at the top of the rise beyond, where you will get the full sweep of the country in both directions."

"Is that where we get your lake, Nora," inquired Jane, "and the valley beyond up to the mountains?"

"How do you know?" said Nora.

"I remember Larry told me once," she said.

"That's the spot," said Nora. "But don't look around now. Wait until you are told."

"Papa," said Jane in a quiet, matter-of-fact voice, "what is it that Tom is doing?" Larry shouted.

"Tom, what Tom? Jane, my dear," said Dr. Brown in a pained voice, "does Tom matter much or any one else in the midst of all this glory?"

"I think so, Papa," said Jane firmly. "You matter, don't you? Everybody matters. Besides, we were told not to look until we reached the top."

"Well, Jane, you are an incorrigible Philistine," said her father, "and I yield. Tom's father is a broker, and Tom is by way of being a broker too, though I doubt if he is broking very much. May I dismiss Tom for a few minutes now?" Again they all laughed.

"I don't see what you are all laughing at," said Jane, and lapsed into silence.

"Now then," cried Nora, "in three minutes."

At the top of the long, gently rising hill the motor pulled up, purring softly. They all stood up and gazed around about them. "Look back,"

commanded Nora. "It is fifty miles to that prairie rim there." From their feet the prairie spread itself in long softly undulating billows to the eastern horizon, the hollows in shadow, the crests tipped with the silver of the rising moon. Here and there wreaths of mist lay just above the shadow lines, giving a ghostly appearance to the hills. "Now look this way," said Nora, and they turned about. Away to the west in a flood of silvery light the prairie climbed by abrupt steps, mounting ever higher over broken rocky points and rocky ledges, over bluffs of poplar and dark ma.s.ses of pine and spruce, up to the grey, bare sides of the mighty mountains, up to their snow peaks gleaming elusive, translucent, faintly discernible against the blue of the sky. In the valley immediately at their feet the waters of the little lake gleamed like a polished shield set in a frame of ebony. "That's our lake," said Nora, "with our house just behind it in the woods. And nearer in that little bluff is Mrs. Waring-Gaunts home."

"Papa," said Jane softly, "we must not keep Mrs. Waring-Gaunt."

"Thank you, Jane," said Mrs. Waring-Gaunt. "I fear I must go on."

"Don't you love it?" inquired Larry enthusiastically and with a touch of impatience in his voice.

"Oh, yes, it is lovely," said Jane.

"But, Jane, you will not get wild over it," said Larry.

"Get wild? I love it, really I do. But why should I get wild over it.

Oh, I know you think, and Papa thinks, that I am awful. He says I have no poetry in me, and perhaps he is right."

In a few minutes the car stopped at the door of Mrs. Waring-Gaunt's house. "I shall just run in for a moment," said Mrs. Waring-Gaunt.

"Kathleen will want to see you, and perhaps will go home with you. I shall send her out."

Out from the vine-shadowed porch into the white light came Kathleen, stood a moment searching the faces of the party, then moved toward Dr.

Brown with her hands eagerly stretched out. "Oh, Dr. Brown," she cried, "it is so good to see you here."

"But my dear girl, my dear girl, how wonderful you look! Why, you have actually grown more beautiful than when we saw you last!"

"Oh, thank you, Dr. Brown. And there is Jane," cried Kathleen, running around to the other side of the car. "It is so lovely to see you and so good of you to come to us," she continued, putting her arms around Jane and kissing her.

"I wanted to come, you know," said Jane.

"Yes, it is Jane's fault entirely," said Dr. Brown. "I confess I hesitated to impose two people upon you this way, w.i.l.l.y-nilly. But Jane would have it that you would be glad to have us."

"And as usual Jane was right," said Larry with emphasis.

"Yes," said Kathleen, "Jane was right. Jane is a dear to think that way about us. Dr. Brown," continued Kathleen with a note of anxiety in her voice, "Mrs. Waring-Gaunt wondered if you would mind coming in to see her brother. He was wounded with a gunshot in the arm about ten days ago. Dr. Hudson, who was one of your pupils, I believe, said he would like to have you see him when you came. I wonder if you would mind coming in now." Kathleen's face was flushed and her words flowed in a hurried stream.

"Not at all, not at all," answered the doctor, rising hastily from the motor and going in with Kathleen.

"Oh, Larry," breathed Jane in a rapture of delight, "isn't she lovely, isn't she lovely? I had no idea she was so perfectly lovely." Not the moon, nor the glory of the landscape with all its wonder of plain and valley and mountain peak had been able to awaken Jane to ecstasy, but the rare loveliness of this girl, her beauty, her sweet simplicity, had kindled Jane to enthusiasm.

"Well, Jane, you are funny," said Larry. "You rave and go wild over Kathleen, and yet you keep quite cool over that most wonderful view."

"View!" said Jane contemptuously. "No, wait, Larry, let me explain. I do think it all very wonderful, but I love people. People after all are better than mountains, and they are more wonderful too."

"Are they?" said Larry dubiously. "Not so lovely, sometimes."

"Some people," insisted Jane, "are more wonderful than all the Rocky Mountains together. Look at Kathleen," she cried triumphantly. "You could not love that old mountain there, could you? But, Kathleen--"

"Don't know about that," said Larry. "Dear old thing."

"Tell me how Mr. Romayne was hurt," said Jane, changing the subject.

In graphic language Nora gave her the story of the accident with all the picturesque details, recounting Kathleen's part in it with appropriate emotional thrills. Jane listened with eyes growing wider with each horrifying elaboration.

"Do you think his arm will ever be all right?" she inquired anxiously.

"We do not know yet," said Nora sombrely.

"Nonsense," interrupted Larry sharply. "His arm will be perfectly all right. You people make me tired with your pa.s.sion for horrors and possible horrors."

Nora was about to make a hot reply when Jane inquired quietly, "What does the doctor say? He ought to know."

"That's just it," said Nora. "He said yesterday he did not like the look of it at all. You know he did, Larry. Mrs. Waring-Gaunt told me so. They are quite anxious about it. But we will hear what Dr. Brown says and then we will know."

But Dr. Brown's report did not quite settle the matter, for after the approved manner of the profession he declined to commit himself to any definite statement except that it was a nasty wound, that it might easily have been worse, and he promised to look in with Dr. Hudson to-morrow. Meantime he expressed the profound hope that Mrs.

Waring-Gaunt might get them as speedily as was consistent with safety to their destination, and that supper might not be too long delayed.

"We can trust Mrs. Waring-Gaunt for the first," said Larry with confidence, "and mother for the second." In neither the one nor the other was Larry mistaken, for Mrs. Waring-Gaunt in a very few minutes discharged both pa.s.sengers and freight at the Gwynnes' door, and supper was waiting.

"We greatly appreciate your kindness, Mrs. Waring-Gaunt," said Dr.

Brown, bowing courteously over her hand. "I shall look in upon your brother to-morrow morning. I hardly think there is any great cause for anxiety."

"Oh, thank you, Dr. Brown, I am glad to hear you say that. It would be very good of you to look in to-morrow."

"Good-night," said Jane, her rare smile illuminating her dark face. "It was so good of you to come for us. It has been a delightful ride. I hope your brother will be better to-morrow."

"Thank you, my dear," said Mrs. Waring-Gaunt. "I should be glad to have you come over to us. I am sure my brother would be glad to know you."

"Do you think so," said Jane doubtfully. "You know I am not very clever.

I am not like Kathleen or Nora." The deep blue eyes looked wistfully at her out of the plain little face.