Martie the Unconquered

their way in, consciously wasting time; they had spent fifteen minutes in the dark and dirty room upon an absolutely unnecessary errand, and no

-past five was at all the same thing in the eyes of Monroe's young people. After that they would wander idly toward the bridge, and separate; Grace Hawkes turning toward the sunset for another quarter of a mile, Rose Ransome opening the garden gate of the pretty

ittle superior in several ways to her present companions, and frequently spent the afternoon practising on her violin, or driving, or walking with the Parker girls and Florence Frost, who hardly recognized the existence of Grace Hawkes and the Monroes. The one bank in M

horses to ride and drive, and servants to wait upon them, the three daughters of these two prominent families considered themselves as obviously better than their neighbours, and bore themselves accordingly. Cyrus Frost and Graham Parker had come to California as young men, in the seventies; h

gested its owner, who was then not more than thirty years old; a tall, silent, domineering man. He was reputed rich, and Miss Elizabeth-or "Lily"-Price, a pretty Eastern girl who visited the Frosts in the winter of 1878, w

tory, a lumber yard, and a winery had come to Monroe. There was the Town Hall, a plain wooden building, and, a

ren advantages, according to their lights. Now, in their early fifties, they were a power in the town, and they felt for it a genuine affection and pride, a loyalty that was unquestioning and sincere. In the ki

shed table land as did wheat and grapes and apple trees. Monroe came to laugh at "old Monroe's" pigheadedness. He fought the town on every question for improvements, as it came up. The bill for pavements, the bill for sewerage, the bill for street lights, the high school bill, found in him an enemy as the years went by. He denounced these innovations bitterly. When the lev

she brightly, obligingly, and gratefully lunched and drove, read and walked, and practised music with May and Ida and Florence, when they wanted her, and when they did not, or when Eastern friends visited them, or there was for some reason no empty seat in the surrey, she turned back to the company of Grace Hawkes and of Sally and Martie Monroe. Rose admitted frankly to her mother th

us, but Martie burned with a fierce young jealousy of all life: of Rose, with her dainty frocks and her rich friends, her curly hair and her violin; of Florence Frost's riding horse; of Ida Parker's glib French; of her own brother

sant years drifted by with no change. But Ellie Hawkes, Grace's big sister, who had kept books in the box factory for three years, was to be married now; a step down for Ellie-for her "friend" was only Ter

that filed through the poorer region of town every morning. But like all growing young things she felt a desperate, undefined need. She could not know that

tie ruined her skin by injudicious eating; she could not resist sweets; natural indolence, combined with the idle life she led, helped to make her too fat. Now and then, in the express office, in the afternoon, the girls got on the big freight scales, and this was always a mortification to Martie. Terr

ren, all carefully named. She would waken from her dreams almost bewildered, blinking at Sally or at her mother in the surprised fashion that sometimes made folk call Martie stupid, humbly enough she thought of herself as stupid, too. She never suspected that she was really "dreaming true," that the power a

to get home early this afternoon. Rose, as innocent as a butterfly of ambition or of the student'

its of straw and odds and ends of paper about. The watering cart went by, leaving a cool wake of shining mud. Here and there a surrey, lo

cousin and was regarded as an uncle-came out of the Court House and walked toward his buggy. The dreaming w

oose figure bulging grotesquely over the bo

t pretty!" Martie said, laughi

ad, Martie, sure enough!" he

did put, then!"

unfashionable part of town. Monroe described him as a "regular character." His jouncing, fat figure-with tobacco ash spilled on his spotted vest, and stable mud on his high-laced boots-was familiar in all her highways and byways. His mellow voice, shot with humorous u

poke among his old books, feed his pigeons, and scold him for his untidy ways. The girl's generous imagi

s just returned were aligned; and here and there, before the dim bookcases that lined the walls, still others loitered, now and then picking a book from the shelves, glancing at it, and restoring it to its place. The room was warm and close with the smell of old book

he low tone she always used in the library. "Want anyt

dylls of the Ki

the Governess,

ction that made the girls a little afraid of her. "It's Martie here I'm interest

anny's keen, kindly look she was smitten with a sudden curious inclination

vision, flip open the four covers with terrific speed, manipulate various paper slips and rubber stamps with energy and certainty, vigorously copy certain mysterious letters and numbers, toss the discarded

rstand it," M

t?" persisted t

book, an excellent collection of some twenty essays fo

liarize yourself a little with this work, and come in he

tie asked,

But some day the grave and reverend seigneurs

e was vague again.

w stiffened, her eyes half close

erhaps," sh

ing thought of having fifteen

hool?" she asked, when the girls were again in Main Street. "

e box factory," Grac

e suggested. "Come on,

a lesser consideration than brushes, stationery, cameras, candy, cigars, post cards, gum, mirrors, celluloid bureau sets, flower seeds, and rubber toys and rattles, but larg

little blonde head hanging. He himself did not leave the counter, which he constantly mopped with a damp, mud-coloured rag. He plunged the streaked and sticky glasses into hot water, set them on a dripping grating to dry, turned on this faucet of sizzling soda, that of rich slow syrup, beat up the contents of glasses with his long-handled s

, for a moment later "old Bones," as the proprietor of the establishment was nicknamed, sauntered through the store. In a gale of giggles the girls went out, stealthily eating the crackers as they went. This adventure was enough to put them in high spirits; Martie indeed was so easily fired to excitement

henomenon was almost unknown in the streets of Monroe, and keenly conscious of his presence, and instantly curious as to his

e blocked

Martie! Too proud to

Martie said in her rich yo

the girls, nothing short of delight. He was so handsome, so friendly, and in the four years he had been at Stanford University

ion. Sally was usually considered the prettier of the two, but Martie was lovely to-nigh

ing in many dooryards, yellow light streamed hospitably across the gravelled paths, and in the early darkness women were waiti

g up your hair. I mean it as a compliment!" sa

mean that as a compliment, too!" Ma

f course, that Martie Monroe was not in his sisters' set, although she was a perfectly NICE girl, and to be respected. Martie was neither one thing nor the other. With Grace, indeed, who was frankly beneath the Parkers' notice, he might have had almost any sort of affair; even one of those affairs of which May and Ida

ged to Clifford Frost, years ago, and still, at all public affairs, the Monroes, the Parkers, and the Frosts met as old friends and equals. Indeed, the Parker girls and Florence Frost ha

d teasing her, and walked beside her to the bridge, he quite innocently plunged himself int

dreadful day when they had been sent up to apologize to the French teacher, and Mar

le devil, Martie?" he asked, b

to find out, Rod!"

hings I'm back here to fi

it. Martie promised to open an account. His Dad might let him have a car, if he behaved himself; did Martie like automobiles?

visit promised from a college friend, and wondered rather disconsolately what might be arrange

click of fans, the light shuffle of satin-clad feet. Her eyes saw

ne at your house,

ur rooms are immense,"

r!" the boy said. "You look up the date

ort of spasm of pleasure. She and Rodney conferring-arranging! The bliss-

e shadows. Martie said a quick, laughing good-night, and ran to join he

the big house, which showed here and there a dully lighted window, and fled noiselessly in at the side door. They ran through a wide,

Across the room by a wide, dark bureau, a single gas jet on a jointed brass arm had been drawn out close to the mirror, and by its light a slender woman of twenty-seven or eight was straightening her hair. No

lung their hats on the bed, their s

it's perfectly terrible, you and Sally running round

it is!" Martie said

more trepidation than she showed. Both s

sed it, or else something's kept him down town," Lydia sa

lated piously, with her gay, wild laugh. "Tell Lyd who

gloomy room was an enormous pantry, with a heavy swinging door opening into a large kitchen. In this kitchen, in the dim light from one gas

cheek; a process to which Mrs. Monroe submit

r mother, shaking her head. "What we

hamedly. "I'm awf'ly sorry. I

't get into the house before dark!" Mrs. Monroe said in

now slicing bread,

added. "But a man can take care of himself, of course! Len's always late for meals," she went on. "Seems like he can't get it through his head that

ina plate in to the table, entering from the p

cing the bread on the wrinkled

g suspicion. But there was no cause for definite question,

er?" her father as

dinner, I THINK." Martie was sweetly

rtie carried away the overcoat and hat,

y, meekly, she stood looking at her father. Lydia, coming in from the kitchen, gave him a respectful yet daughterly kiss

upstairs, Sally," Malcolm

he hall gas, and while I was there Joe ca

t cold enough for one. He began to unlace his shoes. "Brother home?" he asked, glancing from Lydia, who was fill

take care of himself under his father's displeasure. Martie added solicitousl

finding no welcome cause for grievance. He sat, a lean, red-faced man, with a droopin

ere, Martie!" he burst out suddenly. Marti

have been imagined. The bedstead of heavy redwood was wide, flat, and hard. It was flanked by a marble-topped table and a chair. There were two large, curtained bay windows in this room, too, a faded carpet, a wash-stand with two pallid towels on the rack, several

pin was gone, and various other small odds and ends. She had but one pair of gloves, of black shiny kid, somewhat whitened at the finger-tips, and worn only to church or to f

in plainness and ugliness that of his wife. Stiff white collars caught and rasped when the shallow upper drawer was opened; the middle drawers were filled with brownish gray flannels, and shirts stiff-bosomed and limp of sleeves. But if a curious Martie, making the bed, or putting away the "wash," ever cautiously

hin stocking, and she was conscious of repugnance that even the slightest contact with her father always caused her. There was a definite antagonism between Malcolm and his youngest daughter, suspected by neither. But Martie knew that she did not like the fain

the house, as the dinner, accompanied

oe said earnestly yet soothin

tiffly, and we

ouse was a hotel, does he?" he asked, a

d with "Souvenir of Santa Cruz" painted on it; and Lydia and her father used little strips of scalloped and embroidered linen. Lydia had read of these in a magazine and had made them herself, and as her daughterly love swept over all the surface ugliness of his character, she alone among his children sometimes caught a glimpse of her father's heart.

nd your tactics with that b

feel you would disapprove, Pa," Mrs. Monroe said in a worried voice. "Do eat your dinner bef

g his cap toward the hat rack with one hand as he opened the door with the other. A big, well-developed boy of seventeen wa

u'd be on the late train, Pa, and I waited to walk up with you!" said Lenny, f

her asked, laying one of his

y answered, perceiv

me up," Malcolm said

ned innocently. "That's

gin a conversation. Martie's happiness was flooding her spirit like a golden tide; she was conscious, under all

was going back to visit Alma-they had met Doc' Ben

ny commented in re

Martie said eagerly.

YOU!" Sally co

hat?" their fath

ur or five. Sally and I

"Say, mama, this is all cold," he i

aid, rising as her mother began to ri

me BABE!"

s rough head a good-natu

enny-and he was an awfully swee

; I bet he doesn't stay," Leonard resume

baby, before you were born, Martie," her mothe

e, you bet!" observed Lenny.

ve no money to throw away; yet, when you have decided upon a profession, you need only come to your father with a frank, manly statement of your plans,

'd let me go study to be a trained nurse, Pa! Miss Fanny wants me t

s that delayed me to-day was a matter that came up a week or two ago. When the town buys th

id Martie. "E

, "the Park being almost exactly half-way betw

lashed. "Their Woman's Club..." Her voice fell: "I

your mother," Malcolm s

! PLEAS

oldly, while the table w

very strong and a most undignified claim for the Park. They wish it to be known as the Pittsville Casino. But Selwyn

exchanged glances of su

tree there now!" Mar

erently as it did upon this moment of exalta

this town would have amounted to without HIM! All those fine reference books in the librar

hat he had; there was enthusi

, "to erect a statue of Leonard Monroe in

chorus. The girls' sh

father said. "But as the town will feel the added taxation in any case, I propose t

artie, who had a passion for

ave the reality so much more moderate than

ed. He grinned at Martie cont

what was for him rare tolerance. "Yes, it is a large sum, but I can give it, and i

the meal no other s

came in wearily, alone, to attack the disordered table. For two hours the sound of running water and the dragging of Belle's heavy feet would be heard in the kitchen. Meanwhile, Belle's mot

to a dreary library, where he had an old-fashioned cabinet desk, and Lenny gaining a reluct

to Dutch's because it's right down near Bonestell's and Mallon's and the Pool Parlour!" Leo

the four gas jets, and settled down to solitaire. Sally read "Idylls of the King." Lydia and her mother began to sew, the older woman busy with mending a hopelessly worn table-cloth, the younger one embroidering heavy linen with h

oidered in coloured flowers, was on the mantel, with shells, two pink glass vases, and a black marble clock. On the old square piano, where yellowing sheets of music were heaped, there was a cov

finger-nails, and shoes she might have attended with advantage.

row, seven years ago, when Clifford Frost, twelve years her senior, at thirty-one the perfect match, had singled her out for his favour. Martie and Sally could reme

. Lydia had quavered out her happy welcome, her mother had fluttered and smiled. And Cliff had given her candy, and taken her to the Methodist Bazaar and the Elks

ed in Lydia's heart. Mary was made for loving; Mary's mother and father and aunts and cousins all made it easy for any man to fall in love with her. Mary d

y fashion when he went away. Mary, lovely in bridal silks, came to call on Lydia a few months later, and to this day when she met faded, sweet Miss Monroe, the happy little wife and mother would stop in st

manipulating the cards, she remembered that twilight meeting. "Are you still a little devil, Martie ... I'm going to find out." Again they were wa

ations, holding her breath with a risen breast, and letting it go with a long sigh. Now and then she looked with an ashamed and furtive glance from her mother's gray head and Lydia's bu

rs and all, in that upstairs room where Al died. Grandma Lowney was there, and-oh, quite a few others, coming and going, Mrs. Mallon and the Baxter girls. Flora only stayed a minute, and when she and Lou went out, she says, 'L

Mrs. Monroe said, inc

the Allens and Mrs. Gorman were there for the funeral, and they were all at table-and, by the way, Flora says that Lou says that Lizzie Alien was there in that house for three days-that is, it w

r!" commente

s Annie. Grandma Lowney was asleep-they'd gotten her to lie down; she took more care of Joe than any one else,

aid Mrs. Monroe with a

aid to Paul King that if Joe hadn't gone with him out to Deegan Point

ughly tired and a little chilly, to take his own chair by the fire. Sal

ce?" Sally whispered ca

wered hardily; but the happ

rls go crazy about h

an he, fall a victim to his charm as quickly as she, Martie, had fallen? Martie had mentioned Florence Frost this afternoon, and by subtle, instinctive, girlish reasoning had found consolation in his reply. "Sh

d or mentioned a card. Sometimes, as a final problem presented itself, the girls consulted as to th

crazy about yo

don't be s

lly, somewhat dashed for an instant by Martie's well-assumed scorn, gained confidence now, as the new radian

ion at the words. An uncontrollable smile twitched at her mo

ld ever let us have a party he

lips and shook

a real party, of course. Jus

d cake?" Sal

wiches, Rodney seemed

e! You know P

n her cards noisily. Sally spoke only the truth, yet it was an

ncing?" Sally asked, aft

Martie said wit

llars; at least she did

at's not

d," Sally mused, warming to the possibility. "And use th

andwiches-that's all anybody ever wants! And it's so much sweller than me

, anyway!" Sally stat

poke rapidly, her colour rising, her blue eyes glittering like stars. "Of course, the back room isn't fu

lly submitted, perplexed, as she glanc

ered readily. "You see it's the first of a sort of set of dances; the next would b

Sally agreed with a sigh. "Play the Queen on

uch longer, girls?" their father as

you, Pa?" Martie

d voices isn't exactly soothing. However, go on with your game-go o

s the time of year you always get that cold

Sally said with an apologetic

d the cards together, and ros

to light the bedroom gas, fold up the counterpane, and otherwise play the part of the good sister sh

ven here, under the dark trees, pools of light had formed and the heavy foliage was shot with shafts of radiance. A strong wind was clicking the eucalyptus leaves together

ammed. Leon

watch for me?" h

hugging her knees, answered indifferentl

Len passed he

pool room and witnessed a game or two, gone back into the street to tease two hurrying and giggling girls with his young wit, and drifted into a passing juggler's wretched and vulgar show. This, or somet

o. She would not have understood it. But she felt a vague yearning, t

her father without question. But Pa and Lydia, and Len with his egotism, and Ma with her trials, were nothing to Martie now. In battle, in pestilence, or after a great fire, she would have risen head and shoulders above them all, would have worked gloriously to ree

r bonds. Martie believed, as her parents believed, that life was largely a question of "luck." Money, fame, friends, power, to this man; poverty and obscurity and helplessness to that one. Wifehood, motherhood, honour and delight to one school girl; gnawing, restless uselessness to the next. "I only hope you girls

cheerful masculine contempt. He meant to take care of his sisters, he wasn't ever going to marry. Pa needn't worry, Len said. The house was mortgaged, Martie knew; their fathe

ssing, of opportunities unseen and ungrasped, might well make Martie irritable, restless, a

ing, whisking in and out of Monroe's shops, stopped by affectionate and congratulatory friends. She was dining at Mrs. Barker's, dignified, and yet gracious and responsive, too. Dear old Judge Parker was being courteous to her; Mrs. Parker advising Rodney's youn

ry some one. Lydia was unwed, Sally had no lover; but out of so rich and full a world could not so much

have Rodney Parker love her, to have the engagement and the wedding follow in their happy order, she

her face it wa