Part 10 (1/2)

”She was compelled to go home without delay,” answered Mrs. Filmer.

”She seemed afraid of her father--perhaps she has his dinner to cook.”

”Oh, no! Betta does all that kind of work. I think Yanna was disappointed about the ball. It is too absurd of Mr. Van Hoosen!”

”I imagine the ball will proceed without Miss Van Hoosen. Indeed, I am rather glad we are going to the city soon, for life without the Van Hoosen flavor will be a pleasant change.”

”I am sure, mamma, the Van Hoosen flavor has been a great help to us all summer.”

”Well! The summer is now over.”

”And Yanna is----”

”Oh, Yanna is everything charming! So is Antony! And even Mr. Peter Van Hoosen is picturesquely primitive. But the subject tires me to-day. Take your bouillon, Rose, and then try and secure a sleep.”

Mrs. Filmer was turning the salad, with a face of great annoyance, and Rose felt that the conversation was closed.

In the meantime, Yanna drove slowly homeward. Her life seemed to be crumbling inwardly. She lingered in the empty wood thinking of Harry, and of the trial which had tested and found him wanting; suffering over again his pettish anger in their parting, and feeling Mrs.

Filmer's polite scorn to be the last bitter drop in a cup full of bitterness. She was grateful for the quiet of nature, and not afraid to weep before her. She thought her sorrow to be as great as she could bear; for she was not old enough to know that there are griefs too great to find tears for.

Soon, however, she began to feel after that sure and perfect Love that never deceives and never disappoints, to utter those little prayers of two or three words which spring from the soul direct to G.o.d, and always come back with comfort and healing on their wings. She wept and prayed until her heart was like a holy well, running over with the waters of hope and consolation. Her love melted into her intelligence, and her intelligence became love; and this tempering influence and balancing power, gave her strength to keep the expression of her feelings shut up in a granite calm.

And when her father stepped out to meet her, when her eyes caught the pitying love in his eyes, and she went hand in hand with him into the pretty room, where the fire was blazing a welcome, and Betta, with smiles and excuses, was bringing in the dinner; she felt that her own home had plenty of those compensating joys of the present, which fill the heart with comforting thoughts, and the life with the sweet satisfactions and peace of possession.

”Home is a full cup, father!” she said. And Peter, standing at the head of his table, smiled at Yanna; and then lifted up his hands and asked G.o.d's blessing on it!

CHAPTER IV

Fortunately for Adriana, the Filmers were not named at the dinner table. Antony had a new subject to discuss; for on the previous day, while in New York, an acquaintance had taken him to a Socialist meeting. The topic had been treated on its most poetic and hopeful side, and Antony was all enthusiasm for its happy possibilities. Peter listened without any emotion. He did not believe that crime, nor even poverty, would be abolished by merely new social arrangements.

”It is the _inner_ change in individuals that will do it, Antony,”

he said. ”I have heard, and I have read, all sides of the Socialism of the day; and I tell you, it is half brutal, and altogether insufficient to cure existing wrongs.”

”But, father, if the framework of society, which is all wrong, is put all right, would not individuals in the ma.s.s take the right form? As far as I can judge, they are ready to run into any mold prepared for them.”

”No. You may set all without right; and all within may remain wrong.

It is the new heart and the new spirit that is required. Will Socialism touch the inner man and woman? If not, then Socialism is a failure.”

”I do not think it hopes to do this at once; but wider education, more time, more money, more individual liberty----”

”Will only produce more license, more pride of intellect, more self-will; and men and women will become as indomitable as the beasts of the desert; and a law unto themselves.”

”Then, father, what would you propose?”

”I see the answer in Yanna's face. She knows, Antony, what I would say, if I could say the words as well as she can--'_So much the rather_'----go on, Yanna.” And Yanna's face lighted and lifted as she repeated with calm intensity:

”So much the rather Thou Celestial Light s.h.i.+ne inward! and the mind through all her powers.

Irradiate!”