Love Before Breakfast

by Frank Stockton

I was still a young man when I came into the possession of anexcellent estate. This consisted of a large country house,surrounded by lawns, groves, and gardens, and situated not farfrom the flourishing little town of Boynton. Being an orphanwith no brothers or sisters, I set up here a bachelor's hall, inwhich, for two years, I lived with great satisfaction andcomfort, improving my grounds and furnishing my house. When Ihad made all the improvements which were really needed, andfeeling that I now had a most delightful home to come back to, Ithought it would be an excellent thing to take a trip to Europe,give my mind a run in fresh fields, and pick up a lot of bric-a-brac and ideas for the adornment and advantage of my house andmind.It was the custom of the residents in my neighborhood whoowned houses and travelled in the summer to let their housesduring their absence, and my business agent and myself agreedthat this would be an excellent thing for me to do. If the housewere let to a suitable family it would yield me a considerableincome, and the place would not present on my return that air ofretrogression and desolation which I might expect if it wereleft unoccupied and in charge of a caretaker.My agent assured me that I would have no trouble whatever inletting my place, for it offered many advantages and I expectedbut a reasonable rent. I desired to leave everything just as itstood, house, furniture, books, horses, cows, and poultry, takingwith me only my clothes and personal requisites, and I desiredtenants who would come in bringing only their clothes andpersonal requisites, which they could quietly take away with themwhen their lease should expire and I should return home.In spite, however, of the assurances of the agent, it was noteasy to let my place. The house was too large for some people,too small for others, and while some applicants had more horsesthan I had stalls in my stable, others did not want even thehorses I would leave. I had engaged my steamer passage, and theday for my departure drew near, and yet no suitable tenants hadpresented themselves. I had almost come to the conclusion thatthe whole matter would have to be left in the hands of my agent,for I had no intention whatever of giving up my projectedtravels, when early one afternoon some people came to look at thehouse. Fortunately I was at home, and I gave myself the pleasureof personally conducting them about the premises. It was apleasure, because as soon as I comprehended the fact that theseapplicants desired to rent my house I wished them to have it.The family consisted of an elderly gentleman and his wife,with a daughter of twenty or thereabout. This was a family thatsuited me exactly. Three in number, no children, people ofintelligence and position, fond of the country, and anxious forjust such a place as I offered them--what could be better?The more I walked about and talked with these good people andshowed them my possessions, the more I desired that the younglady should take my house. Of course her parents were includedin this wish, but it was for her ears that all my remarks wereintended, although sometimes addressed to the others, and she wasthe tenant I labored to obtain. I say "labored" advisedly,because I racked my brain to think of inducements which mightbring them to a speedy and favorable decision.Apart from the obvious advantages of the arrangement, itwould be a positive delight to me during my summer wanderings inEurope to think that that beautiful girl would be strollingthrough my grounds, enjoying my flowers, and sitting with herbook in the shady nooks I had made so pleasant, lying in myhammocks, spending her evening hours in my study, reading mybooks, writing at my desk, and perhaps musing in my easy-chair.Before these applicants appeared it had sometimes pained me toimagine strangers in my home; but no such thought crossed my mindin regard to this young lady, who, if charming in the house andon the lawn, grew positively entrancing when she saw my Jerseycows and my two horses, regarding them with an admiration whicheven surpassed my own.Long before we had completed the tour of inspection I hadmade up my mind that this young lady should come to live in myhouse. If obstacles should show themselves they should beremoved. I would tear down, I would build, I would paper andpaint, I would put in all sorts of electric bells, I would reducethe rent until it suited their notions exactly, I would have myhorses' tails banged if she liked that kind of tails better thanlong ones--I would do anything to make them definitely decide totake the place before they left me. I trembled to think of hergoing elsewhere and giving other householders a chance to tempther. She had looked at a good many country houses, but it wasquite plain that none of them had pleased her so well as mine.I left them in my library to talk the matter over bythemselves, and in less than ten minutes the young lady herselfcame out on the lawn to tell me that her father and mother haddecided to take the place and would like to speak with me."I am so glad," she said as we went in. "I am sure I shallenjoy every hour of our stay here. It is so different fromanything we have yet seen."When everything had been settled I wanted to take them againover the place and point out a lot of things I had omitted. Iparticularly wanted to show them some lovely walks in the woods.But there was no time, for they had to catch a train.Her name was Vincent--Cora Vincent, as I discovered from hermother's remarks.As soon as they departed I had my mare saddled and rode intotown to see my agent. I went into his office exultant."I've let my house," I said, "and I want you to make out thelease and have everything fixed and settled as soon as possible.This is the address of my tenants."The agent asked me a good many questions, being particularlyanxious to know what rent had been agreed upon."Heavens!" he exclaimed, when I mentioned the sum, "that isever so much less than I told you you could get. I am incommunication now with a party whom I know would pay youconsiderably more than these people. Have you definitely settledwith them? Perhaps it is not too late to withdraw.""Withdraw!" I cried. "Never! They are the only tenants Iwant. I was determined to get them, and I think I must havelowered the rent four or five times in the course of theafternoon. I took a big slice out of it before I mentioned thesum at all. You see," said I, very impressively, "these Vincentsexactly suit me." And then I went on to state fully theadvantages of the arrangement, omitting, however, any referencesto my visions of Miss Vincent swinging in my hammocks or musingin my study-chair.It was now May 15, and my steamer would sail on the twenty-first. The intervening days I employed, not in preparing for mytravels, but in making every possible arrangement for the comfortand convenience of my incoming tenants. The Vincents did notwish to take possession until June 1, and I was sorry they hadnot applied before I had engaged my passage, for in that case Iwould have selected a later date. A very good steamer sailed onJune 3, and it would have suited me just as well.Happening to be in New York one day, I went to the Vincents'city residence to consult with them in regard to some awningswhich I proposed putting up at the back of the house. I found noone at home but the old gentleman, and it made no differenceto him whether the awnings were black and brown or red andyellow. I cordially invited him to come out before I left, andbring his family, that they might look about the place to see ifthere was anything they would like to have done which had notalready been attended to. It was so much better, I told him, totalk over these matters personally with the owner than with anagent in his absence. Agents were often very unwilling to makechanges. Mr. Vincent was a very quiet and exceedingly pleasantelderly gentleman, and thanked me very much for my invitation,but said he did not see how he could find the time to get out tomy house before I sailed. I did not like to say that it was notat all necessary for him to neglect his affairs in order toaccompany his family to my place, but I assured him that if anyof them wished to go out at any time before they took possessionthey must feel at perfect liberty to do so.I mentioned this matter to my agent, suggesting that if hehappened to be in New York he might call on the Vincents andrepeat my invitation. It was not likely that the old gentlemanwould remember to mention it to his wife and daughter, and it wasreally important that everything should be made satisfactorybefore I left."It seems to me," he said, smiling a little grimly, "that theVincents had better be kept away from your house until you havegone. If you do anything more to it you may find out that itwould have been more profitable to have shut it up while you areaway."He did call, however, partly because I wished him to andpartly because he was curious to see the people I was soanxious to install in my home, and to whom he was to be my legalrepresentative. He reported the next day that he had found noone at home but Miss Vincent, and that she had said that she andher mother would be very glad to come out the next week and goover the place before they took possession."Next week!" I exclaimed. "I shall be gone then!""But I shall be here," said Mr. Barker, "and I'll show themabout and take their suggestions."This did not suit me at all. It annoyed me very much tothink of Barker showing Miss Vincent about my place. He was agood-looking young man and not at all backward in his manners."After all," said I, "I suppose that everything that ought tobe done has been done. I hope you told her that.""Of course not," said he. "That would have been running deadagainst your orders. Besides, it's my business to show peopleabout places. I don't mind it."This gave me an unpleasant and uneasy feeling. I wondered ifMr. Barker were the agent I ought to have, and if a middle-agedman with a family and more experience might not be better able tomanage my affairs."Barker," said I, a little later, "there will be no use ofyour going every month to the Vincents to collect their rent. Ishall write to Mr. Vincent to pay as he pleases. He can send acheck monthly or at the end of the season, as it may beconvenient. He is perfectly responsible, and I would much preferto have the money in a lump when I come back."Barker grinned. "All right," said he, "but that's not theway to do business, you know."I may have been mistaken, but I fancied that I saw in myagent's face an expression which indicated that he intended tocall on the first day of each month, on the pretext of tellingVincent that it was not necessary to pay the rent at anyparticular time, and that he also proposed to make many otherintervening visits to inquire if repairs were needed. This mighthave been a good deal to get out of his expression, but I think Icould have got more if I had thought longer.On the day before that on which I was to sail, my mind was insuch a disturbed condition that I could not attend to my packingor anything else. It almost enraged me to think that I wasdeliberately leaving the country ten days before my tenants wouldcome to my house. There was no reason why I should do this.There were many reasons why I should not. There was Barker. Iwas now of the opinion that he would personally superintend theremoval of the Vincents and their establishment to my home. Iremembered that the only suggestion he had made about theimprovement of the place had been the construction of a tennis-court. I knew that he was a champion player. Confound it! Whata dreadful mistake I had made in selecting such a man for myhouse-agent. With my mind's eye I could already see Miss Vincentand Barker selecting a spot for tennis and planning thearrangements of the court.I took the first train to New York and went directly to thesteamboat office. It is astonishing how many obstacles can beremoved from a man's path if he will make up his mind togive them a good kick. I found that my steamer was crowded. Theapplications for passage exceeded the accommodations, and theagent was delighted to transfer me to the steamer that sailed onJune 3. I went home exultant. Barker drove over in the eveningto take his last instructions, and a blank look came over hisface when I told him that business had delayed my departure, andthat I should not sail the next day. If I had told him that partof that business was the laying out of a tennis-court he mighthave looked blanker.Of course the date of my departure did not concern theVincents, provided the house was vacated by June 1, and I did notinform them of the change in my plans, but when the mother anddaughter came out the next week they were much surprised to findme waiting to receive them instead of Barker. I hope that theywere also pleased, and I am sure that they had every reason to beso. Mrs. Vincent, having discovered that I was a most complacentlandlord, accommodated herself easily to my disposition and madea number of minor requirements, all of which I granted withoutthe slightest hesitation. I was delighted at last to put herinto the charge of my housekeeper, and when the two had betakenthemselves to the bedrooms I invited Miss Vincent to come outwith me to select a spot for a tennis-court. The invitation wasaccepted with alacrity, for tennis, she declared, was a passionwith her.The selection of that tennis-court took nearly an hour, forthere were several good places for one and it was hard to make aselection; besides, I could not lose the opportunity of takingMiss Vincent into the woods and showing her the walks I hadmade and the rustic seats I had placed in pleasant nooks. Ofcourse she would have discovered these, but it was a great dealbetter for her to know all about them before she came. At lastMrs. Vincent sent a maid to tell her daughter that it was time togo for the train, and the court had not been definitely planned.The next day I went to Miss Vincent's house with a plan ofthe grounds, and she and I talked it over until the matter wassettled. It was necessary to be prompt about this, I explained,as there would be a great deal of levelling and rolling to bedone.I also had a talk with the old gentleman about books. Therewere several large boxes of my books in New York which I hadnever sent out to my country house. Many of these I thoughtmight be interesting to him, and I offered to have them taken outand left at his disposal. When he heard the titles of some ofthe books in the collection he was much interested, but insistedthat before he made use of them they should be catalogued, aswere the rest of my effects. I hesitated a moment, wondering ifI could induce Barker to come to New York and catalogue four bigboxes of books, when, to my surprise, Miss Vincent incidentallyremarked that if they were in any place where she could get atthem she would be pleased to help catalogue them; that sort ofthing was a great pleasure to her. Instantly I proposed that Ishould send the books to the Vincent house, that they shouldthere be taken out so that Mr. Vincent could select those hemight care to read during the summer, that I would make a list ofthese, and if Vincent would assist me I would be gratefulfor the kindness, and those that were not desired could bereturned to the storehouse.What a grand idea was this! I had been internally groaningbecause I could think of no possible pretence, for furtherinterviews with Miss Vincent, and here was something better thanI could have imagined. Her father declared that he could not putme to so much trouble, but I would listen to none of his words,and the next morning my books were spread over his library floor.The selection and cataloguing of the volumes desired occupiedthe mornings of three days. The old gentleman's part was soondone, but there were many things in the books which were far moreinteresting to me than their titles, and to which I desired todraw Miss Vincent's attention. All this greatly protracted ourlabors. She was not only a beautiful girl, but her intelligenceand intellectual grasp were wonderful. I could not help tellingher what a great pleasure it would be to me to think, whilewandering in foreign lands, that such an appreciative familywould be enjoying my books and my place."You are so fond of your house and everything you have," saidshe, "that we shall almost feel as if we were depriving you ofyour rights. But I suppose that Italian lakes and the Alps willmake you forget for a time even your beautiful home.""Not if you are in it," I longed to say, but I restrainedmyself. I did not believe that it was possible for me to be morein love with this girl than I was at that moment, but, of course,it would be the rankest stupidity to tell her so. To her I wassimply her father's landlord.I went to that house the next day to see that the boxes wereproperly repacked, and I actually went the next day to see if theright boxes had gone into the country, and the others back to thestorehouse. The first day I saw only the father. The second dayit was the mother who assured me that everything had beenproperly attended to. I began to feel that if I did not wish adecided rebuff I would better not make any more pretences ofbusiness at the Vincent house.There were affairs of my own which should have been attendedto, and I ought to have gone home and attended to them, but Icould not bear to do so. There was no reason to suppose shewould go out there before the first of June.Thinking over the matter many times, I came to the conclusionthat if I could see her once more I would be satisfied. Then Iwould go away, and carry her image with me into every art-gallery, over every glacier, and under every lovely sky that Ishould enjoy abroad, hoping all the time that, taking my place,as it were, in my home, and making my possessions, in a measure,her own, she would indirectly become so well acquainted with methat when I returned I might speak to her without shocking her.To obtain this final interview there was but one way. I hadleft my house on Saturday, the Vincents would come on thefollowing Monday, and I would sail on Wednesday. I would go onTuesday to inquire if they found everything to theirsatisfaction. This would be a very proper attention from alandlord about to leave the country.When I reached Boynton I determined to walk to my house,for I did not wish to encumber myself with a hired vehicle. Imight be asked to stay to luncheon. A very strange feeling cameover me as I entered my grounds. They were not mine. For thetime being they belonged to somebody else. I was merely avisitor or a trespasser if the Vincents thought proper so toconsider me. If they did not like people to walk on the grass Ihad no right to do it.None of my servants had been left on the place, and the maidwho came to the door informed me that Mr. Vincent had gone to NewYork that morning, and that Mrs. Vincent and her daughter wereout driving. I ventured to ask if she thought they would soonreturn, and she answered that she did not think they would, asthey had gone to Rock Lake, which, from the way they talked aboutit, must be a long way off.Rock Lake! When I had driven over there with my friends, wehad taken luncheon at the inn and returned in the afternoon. Andwhat did they know of Rock Lake? Who had told them of it? Thatofficious Barker, of course."Will you leave a message, sir?" said the maid, who, ofcourse, did not know me."No," said I, and as I still stood gazing at the piazzafloor, she remarked that if I wished to call again she would goout and speak to the coachman and ask him if anything had beensaid to him about the time of the party's return.Worse and worse! Their coachman had not driven them! Someone who knew the country had been their companion. They were notacquainted in the neighborhood, and there could not be a shadowof a doubt that it was that obtrusive Barker who hadindecently thrust himself upon them on the very next dayafter their arrival, and had thus snatched from me this lastinterview upon which I had counted so earnestly.I had no right to ask any more questions. I left no messagenor any name, and I had no excuse for saying I would call again.I got back to my hotel without having met any one whom Iknew, and that night I received a note from Barker, stating thathe had fully intended coming to the steamer to see me off, butthat an engagement would prevent him. He sent, however, his bestgood wishes for my safe passage, and assured me that he wouldkeep me fully informed of the state of my affairs on this side."Engagement!" I exclaimed. "Is he going to drive with heragain to-morrow?"My steamer sailed at two o'clock the next day, and after anearly breakfast I went to the company's office to see if I coulddispose of my ticket. It had become impossible, I told theagent, for me to leave America at present. He said it was a verylate hour to sell my ticket, but that he would do what he could,and if an applicant turned up he would give him my room andrefund the money. He wanted me to change to another date, but Ideclined to do this. I was not able to say when I should sail.I now had no plan of action. All I knew was that I could notleave America without finding out something definite about thisBarker business. That is to say, if it should be made known tome that instead of attending to my business, sending a carpenterto make repairs, if such were necessary, or going personally tothe plumber to make sure that that erratic personage would givehis attention to any pipes in regard to which Mr. Vincent mighthave written, Barker should mingle in sociable relations with mytenants, and drive or play tennis with the young lady of thehouse, then would I immediately have done with him. I wouldwithdraw my business from his hands and place it in those of oldMr. Poindexter. More than that, it might be my duty to warn MissVincent's parents against Barker. I did not doubt that he was avery good house and land-agent, but in selecting him as such Ihad no idea of introducing him to the Vincents in a social way.In fact, the more I thought about it the more I became convincedthat if ever I mentioned Barker to my tenants it would be to warnthem against him. From certain points of view he was actually adangerous man.This, however, I would not do until I found my agent wasreally culpable. To discover what Barker had done, what he wasdoing, and what he intended to do, was now my only business inlife. Until I had satisfied myself on these points I could notthink of starting out upon my travels.Now that I had determined I would not start for Europe untilI had satisfied myself that Mr. Barker was contenting himselfwith attending to my business, and not endeavoring to forcehimself into social relations with my tenants, I was anxious thatthe postponement of my journey should be unknown to my friendsand acquaintances, and I was, therefore, very glad to see in anewspaper, published on the afternoon of the day of my intendeddeparture, my name among the list of passengers who had sailedupon the Mnemonic. For the first time I commended thesuper-enterprise of a reporter who gave more attention to thetimeliness of his news than to its accuracy.I was stopping at a New York hotel, but I did not wish tostay there. Until I felt myself ready to start on my travels theneighborhood of Boynton would suit me better than anywhere else.I did not wish to go to the town itself, for Barker lived there,and I knew many of the townspeople; but there were farmhouses notfar away where I might spend a week. After considering thematter, I thought of something that might suit me. About threemiles from my house, on an unfrequented road, was a mill whichstood at the end of an extensive sheet of water, in reality amill-pond, but commonly called a lake. The miller, an old man,had recently died, and his house near by was occupied by anewcomer whom I had never seen. If I could get accommodationsthere it would suit me exactly. I left the train two stationsbelow Boynton and walked over to the mill.The country-folk in my neighborhood are always pleased totake summer boarders if they can get them, and the miller and hiswife were glad to give me a room, not imagining that I was theowner of a good house not far away. The place suited myrequirements very well. It was near her, and I might live herefor a time unnoticed, but what I was going to do with myopportunity I did not know. Several times the conviction forceditself upon me that I should get up at once and go to Europe bythe first steamer, and so show myself that I was a man of sense.This conviction was banished on the second afternoon of mystay at the mill. I was sitting under a tree in the orchardnear the house, thinking and smoking my pipe, when along the roadwhich ran by the side of the lake came Mr. Vincent on my blackhorse General and his daughter on my mare Sappho. InstinctivelyI pulled my straw hat over my eyes, but this precaution was notnecessary. They were looking at the beautiful lake, with itshills and overhanging trees, and saw me not!When the very tip of Sappho's tail had melted into thefoliage of the road, I arose to my feet and took a deep breath ofthe happy air. I had seen her, and it was with her father shewas riding.I do not believe I slept a minute that night through thinkingof her, and feeling glad that I was near her, and that she hadbeen riding with her father.When the early dawn began to break an idea brighter than thedawn broke upon me: I would get up and go nearer to her. It isamazing how much we lose by not getting up early on the longsummer days. How beautiful the morning might be on this earth Inever knew until I found myself wandering by the edge of my woodsand over my lawn with the tender gray-blue sky above me and allthe freshness of the grass and flowers and trees about me, thebirds singing among the branches, and she sleeping sweetlysomewhere within that house with its softly defined lights andshadows. How I wished I knew what room she occupied!The beauties and joys of that hour were lost to every personon the place, who were all, no doubt, in their soundest sleep. Idid not even see a dog. Quietly and stealthily stepping frombush to hedge, I went around the house, and as I drew near thebarn I fancied I could hear from a little room adjoining itthe snores of the coachman. The lazy rascal would probably notawaken for two or three hours yet, but I would ran no risks, andin half an hour I had sped away.Now I knew exactly why I was staying at the house of themiller. I was doing so in order that I might go early in themornings to my own home, in which the girl I loved lay dreaming,and that for the rest of the day and much of the night I mightthink of her."What place in Europe," I said to myself, "could be sobeautiful, so charming, and so helpful to reflection as thissequestered lake, these noble trees, these stretches ofundulating meadow?"Even if I should care to go abroad, a month or two laterwould answer all my purposes. Why had I ever thought of spendingfive months away?There was a pretty stream which ran from the lake and wendedits way through a green and shaded valley, and here, with a rod,I wandered and fished and thought. The miller had boats, and inone of these I rowed far up the lake where it narrowed into acreek, and between the high hills which shut me out from theworld I would float and think.Every morning, soon after break of day, I went to my home andwandered about my grounds. If it rained I did not mind that. Ilike a summer rain.Day by day I grew bolder. Nobody in that household thoughtof getting up until seven o'clock. For two hours, at least, Icould ramble undisturbed through my grounds, and much as I hadonce enjoyed these grounds, they never afforded me the pleasurethey gave me now. In these happy mornings I felt all thelife and spirits of a boy. I went into my little field andstroked the sleek sides of my cows as they nibbled the dewygrass. I even peeped through the barred window of Sappho's boxand fed her, as I had been used to doing, with bunches of clover.I saw that the young chickens were flourishing. I went into thegarden and noted the growth of the vegetables, feeling glad thatshe would have so many fine strawberries and tender peas.I had not the slightest doubt that she was fond of flowers,and for her sake now, as I used to do for my own sake, I visitedthe flower beds and borders. Not far from the house there was acluster of old-fashioned pinks which I was sure were not doingvery well. They had been there too long, perhaps, and theylooked stunted and weak. In the miller's garden I had noticedgreat beds of these pinks, and I asked his wife if I might havesome, and she, considering them as mere wild flowers, said Imight have as many as I liked. She might have thought I wantedsimply the blossoms, but the next morning I went over to my housewith a basket filled with great matted masses of the plants takenup with the roots and plenty of earth around them, and aftertwenty minutes' work in my own bed of pinks, I had taken out allthe old plants and filled their places with fresh, luxuriantmasses of buds and leaves and blossoms. How glad she would bewhen she saw the fresh life that had come to that flower-bed!With light footsteps I went away, not feeling the weight of thebasket filled with the old plants and roots.The summer grew and strengthened, and the sun rose earlier,but as that had no effect upon the rising of the presentinhabitants of my place, it gave me more time for my morningpursuits. Gradually I constituted myself the regular flower-gardener of the premises. How delightful the work was, and howfoolish I thought I had been never to think of doing this thingfor myself! but no doubt it was because I was doing it for herthat I found it so pleasant.Once again I had seen Miss Vincent. It was in the afternoon,and I had rowed myself to the upper part of the lake, where, withthe high hills and the trees on each side of me, I felt as if Iwere alone in the world. Floating, idly along, with my thoughtsabout three miles away, I heard the sound of oars, and lookingout on the open part of the lake, I saw a boat approaching. Themiller was rowing, and in the stern sat an elderly gentleman anda young lady. I knew them in an instant: they were Mr. and MissVincent.With a few vigorous strokes I shot myself into the shadows,and rowed up the stream into the narrow stretches among the lily-pads, under a bridge, and around a little wooded point, where Iran the boat ashore and sprang upon the grassy bank. Although Idid not believe the miller would bring them as far as this, Iwent up to a higher spot and watched for half an hour; but I didnot see them again. How relieved I was! It would have beenterribly embarrassing had they discovered me. And howdisappointed I was that the miller turned back so soon!I now extended the supervision of my grounds. I walkedthrough the woods, and saw how beautiful they were in the earlydawn. I threw aside the fallen twigs and cut away encroachingsaplings, which were beginning to encumber the paths I had made,and if I found a bough which hung too low I cut it off.There was a great beech-tree, between which and a dogwood I hadthe year before suspended a hammock. In passing this, onemorning, I was amazed to see a hammock swinging from the hooks Ihad put in the two trees. This was a retreat which I hadsupposed no one else would fancy or even think of! In thehammock was a fan--a common Japanese fan. For fifteen minutes Istood looking at that hammock, every nerve a-tingle. Then Iglanced around. The spot had been almost unfrequented since lastsummer. Little bushes, weeds, and vines had sprung up here andthere between the two trees. There were dead twigs and limbslying about, and the short path to the main walk was muchovergrown.I looked at my watch. It was a quarter to six. I had yet agood hour for work, and with nothing but my pocket-knife and myhands I began to clear away the space about that hammock. When Ileft it, it looked as it used to look when it was my pleasure tolie there and swing and read and reflect.To approach this spot it was not necessary to go through mygrounds, for my bit of woods adjoined a considerable stretch offorest-land, and in my morning walks from the mill I often used apath through these woods. The next morning when I took this pathI was late because I had unfortunately overslept myself. When Ireached the hammock it wanted fifteen minutes to seven o'clock.It was too late for me to do anything, but I was glad to be ableto stay there even for a few minutes, to breathe that air, tostand on that ground, to touch that hammock. I did more thanthat. Why shouldn't I? I got into it. It was a better onethan that I had hung there. It was delightfully comfortable. Atthis moment, gently swinging in that woodland solitude, with thesweet odors of the morning all about me, I felt myself nearer toher than I had ever been before.But I knew I must not revel in this place too long. I was onthe point of rising to leave when I heard approaching footsteps.My breath stopped. Was I at last to be discovered? This waswhat came of my reckless security. But perhaps the person, someworkman most likely, would pass without noticing me. To remainquiet seemed the best course, and I lay motionless.But the person approaching turned into the little pathway.The footsteps came nearer. I sprang from the hammock. Before mewas Miss Vincent!What was my aspect I know not, but I have no doubt I turnedfiery red. She stopped suddenly, but she did not turn red."Oh, Mr. Ripley," she exclaimed, "good morning! You mustexcuse me. I did not know--"That she should have had sufficient self-possession to saygood morning amazed me. Her whole appearance, in fact, amazedme. There seemed to be something wanting in her manner. Iendeavored to get myself into condition."You must be surprised," I said, "to see me here. Yousupposed I was in Europe, but--"As I spoke I made a couple of steps toward her, but suddenlystopped. One of my coat buttons had caught in the meshes of thehammock. It was confoundedly awkward. I tried to loosen thebutton, but it was badly entangled. Then I desperatelypulled at it to tear it off."Oh, don't do that," she said. "Let me unfasten it for you."And taking the threads of the hammock in one of her little handsand the button in the other, she quickly separated them. "Ishould think buttons would be very inconvenient things--at least,in hammocks," she said smiling. "You see, girls don't have anysuch trouble."I could not understand her manner. She seemed to take mybeing there as a matter of course."I must beg a thousand pardons for this--this trespass," Isaid."Trespass!" said she, with a smile. "People don't trespasson their own land--""But it is not my land," said I. "It is your father's forthe time being. I have no right here whatever. I do not knowhow to explain, but you must think it very strange to find mehere when you supposed I had started for Europe.""Oh! I knew you had not started for Europe," said she,"because I have seen you working in the grounds--""Seen me!" I interrupted. "Is it possible?""Oh, yes," said she. "I don't know how long you had beencoming when I first saw you, but when I found that fresh bed ofpinks all transplanted from somewhere, and just as lovely as theycould be, instead of the old ones, I spoke to the man; but he didnot know anything about it, and said he had not had time to doanything to the flowers, whereas I had been giving him credit forever so much weeding and cleaning up. Then I supposed that Mr.Barker, who is just as kind and attentive as he can be, haddone it; but I could hardly believe he was the sort of man tocome early in the morning and work out of doors,"--("Oh, how Iwish he had come!" I thought. "If I had caught him here workingamong the flowers!"),--"and when he came that afternoon to playtennis I found that he had been away for two days, and could nothave planted the pinks. So I simply got up early one morning andlooked out, and there I saw you, with your coat off, working justas hard as ever you could."I stepped back, my mind for a moment a perfect blank."What could you have thought of me?" I exclaimed presently."Really, at first I did not know what to think," said she. "Ofcourse I did not know what had detained you in this country,but I remembered that I had heard that you were a very particularperson about your flowers and shrubs and grounds, and that mostlikely you thought they would be better taken care of if you keptan eye on them, and that when you found there was so much to doyou just went to work and did it. I did not speak of this toanybody, because if you did not wish it to be known that you weretaking care of the grounds it was not my business to tell peopleabout it. But yesterday, when I found this place where I hadhung my hammock so beautifully cleared up and made so nice andclean and pleasant in every way, I thought I must come down totell you how much obliged I am, and also that you ought not totake so much trouble for us. If you think the grounds need moreattention, I will persuade my father to hire another man, now andthen, to work about the place. Really, Mr. Ripley, youought not to have to--"I was humbled, abashed. She had seen me at my morning devotions,and this was the way she interpreted them. She considered me anovernice fellow who was so desperately afraid his place would beinjured that he came sneaking around every morning to see if anydamage had been done and to put things to rights.She stood for a moment as if expecting me to speak, brushed abuzzing fly from her sleeve, and then, looking at me with agentle smile, she turned a little as if she were about to leave.I could not let her go without telling her something. Herpresent opinion of me must not rest in her mind another minute.And yet, what story could I devise? How, indeed, could I deviseanything with which to deceive a girl who spoke and looked at meas this girl did? I could not do it. I must rush awayspeechless and never see her again, or I must tell her all. Icame a little nearer to her."Miss Vincent," said I, "you do not understand at all why Iam here--why I have been here so much--why I did not go toEurope. The truth is, I could not leave. I do not wish to beaway; I want to come here and live here always--""Oh, dear! " she interrupted, "of course it is natural thatyou should not want to tear yourself away from your lovely home.It would be very hard for us to go away now, especially forfather and me, for we have grown to love this place so much. Butif you want us to leave, I dare say--""I want you to leave!" I exclaimed. "Never! When I saythat I want to live here myself, that my heart will not let me goanywhere else, I mean that I want you to live here too--you, yourmother and father--that I want--""Oh, that would be perfectly splendid!" she said. "I haveever so often thought that it was a shame that you should bedeprived of the pleasures you so much enjoy, which I see you canfind here and nowhere else. Now, I have a plan which I thinkwill work splendidly. We are a very small family. Why shouldn'tyou come here and live with us? There is plenty of room, and Iknow father and mother would be very glad, and you can pay yourboard, if that would please you better. You can have the room atthe top of the tower for your study and your smoking den, and theroom under it can be your bedroom, so you can be just asindependent as you please of the rest of us, and you can beliving on your own place without interfering with us in theleast. In fact, it would be ever so nice, especially as I am inthe habit of going away to the sea-shore with my aunt everysummer for six weeks, and I was thinking how lonely it would bethis year for father and mother to stay here all by themselves." The tower and the room under it! For me! What a contemptiblylittle-minded and insignificant person she must think me. Thewords with which I strove to tell her that I wished to live hereas lord, with her as my queen, would not come. She looked at mefor a moment as I stood on the brink of saying something but notsaying it, and then she turned suddenly toward the hammock."Did you see anything of a fan I left here?" she said. "Iknow I left it here, but when I came yesterday it was gone.Perhaps you may have noticed it somewhere--"Now, the morning before, I had taken that fan home with me.It was an awkward thing to carry, but I had concealed it under mycoat. It was a contemptible trick, but the fan had her initialson it, and as it was the only thing belonging to her of which Icould possess myself, the temptation had been too great toresist. As she stood waiting for my answer there was a light inher eye which illuminated my perceptions."Did you see me take that fan?" I asked."I did," said she."Then you know," I exclaimed, stepping nearer to her, "why itis I did not leave this country as I intended, why it wasimpossible for me to tear myself away from this house, why it isthat I have been here every morning, hovering around and doingthe things I have been doing?"She looked up at me, and with her eyes she said, "How could Ihelp knowing?" She might have intended to say something with herlips, but I took my answer from her eyes, and with the quickimpulse of a lover I stopped her speech."You have strange ways," she said presently, blushing andgently pressing back my arm. "I haven't told you a thing.""Let us tell each other everything now," I cried, and weseated ourselves in the hammock.It was a quarter of an hour later and we were still sittingtogether in the hammock."You may think," said she, "that, knowing what I did, it wasvery queer for me to come out to you this morning, but Icould not help it. You were getting dreadfully careless, andwere staying so late and doing things which people would havebeen bound to notice, especially as father is always talkingabout our enjoying the fresh hours of the morning, that I felt Icould not let you go on any longer. And when it came to that fanbusiness I saw plainly that you must either immediately start forEurope or--""Or what?" I interrupted."Or go to my father and regularly engage yourself as a--"I do not know whether she was going to say "gardener" or not,but it did not matter. I stopped her.It was perhaps twenty minutes later, and we were standingtogether at the edge of the woods. She wanted me to come to thehouse to take breakfast with them."Oh, I could not do that!" I said. "They would be sosurprised. I should have so much to explain before I could evenbegin to state my case.""Well, then, explain," said she. "You will find father onthe front piazza. He is always there before breakfast, and thereis plenty of time. After all that has been said here, I cannotgo to breakfast and look commonplace while you run away.""But suppose your father objects?" said I."Well, then you will have to go back and take breakfast withyour miller," said she.I never saw a family so little affected by surprises as thoseVincents. When I appeared on the front piazza the old gentlemandid not jump. He shook hands with me and asked me to sit down,and when I told him everything he did not even ejaculate,but simply folded his hands together and looked out over therailing."It seemed strange to Mrs. Vincent and myself," he said,"when we first noticed your extraordinary attachment for ourdaughter, but, after all, it was natural enough.""Noticed it!" I exclaimed. "When did you do that?""Very soon," he said. "When you and Cora were cataloguingthe books at my house in town I noticed it and spoke to Mrs.Vincent, but she said it was nothing new to her, for it was plainenough on the day when we first met you here that you wereletting the house to Cora, and that she had not spoken of it tome because she was afraid I might think it wrong to accept thefavorable and unusual arrangements you were making with us if Isuspected the reason for them. We talked over the matter, but,of course, we could do nothing, because there was nothing to do,and Mrs. Vincent was quite sure you would write to us fromEurope. But when my man Ambrose told me he had seen some oneworking about the place in the very early morning, and that, asit was a gentleman, he supposed it must be the landlord, fornobody else would be doing such things, Mrs. Vincent and I lookedout of the window the next day, and when we found it was indeedyou who were coming here every day, we felt that the matter wasserious and were a good deal troubled. We found, however, thatyou were conducting affairs in a very honorable way,--that youwere not endeavoring to see Cora, and that you did not try tohave any secret correspondence with her,--and as we had no rightto prevent you from coming on your grounds, we concluded toremain quiet until you should take some step which we would beauthorized to notice. Later, when Mr. Barker came and told methat you had not gone to Europe, and were living with a millernot far from here--""Barker!" I cried. "The scoundrel!""You are mistaken, sir," said Mr. Vincent. "He spoke withthe greatest kindness of you, and said that as it was evident youhad your own reasons for wishing to stay in the neighborhood, anddid not wish the fact to be known, he had spoken of it to no onebut me, and he would not have done this had he not thought itwould prevent embarrassment in case we should meet."Would that everlasting Barker ever cease meddling in my affairs?"Do you suppose," I asked, "that he imagined the reason formy staying here?""I do not know," said the old gentleman, "but after thequestions I put to him I have no doubt he suspected it. I mademany inquiries of him regarding you, your family, habits, anddisposition, for this was a very vital matter to me, sir, and Iam happy to inform you that he said nothing of you that was notgood, so I urged him to keep the matter to himself. Idetermined, however, that if you continued your morning visits Ishould take an early opportunity of accosting you and asking anexplanation.""And you never mentioned anything of this to your daughter?"said I."Oh, no," he answered. "We carefully kept everything from her.""But, my dear sir," said I, rising, "you have given me no answer.You have not told me whether or not you will accept me as ason-in-law."He smiled. "Truly," he said, "I have not answered you; butthe fact is, Mrs. Vincent and I have considered the matter solong, and having come to the conclusion that if you made anhonorable and straightforward proposition, and if Cora werewilling to accept you, we could see no reason to object to--"At this moment the front door opened and Cora appeared."Are you going to stay to breakfast?" she asked. "Because,if you are, it is ready."I stayed to breakfast.I am now living in my own house, not in the two tower rooms,but in the whole mansion, of which my former tenant, Cora, is nowmistress supreme. Mr. and Mrs. Vincent expect to spend the nextsummer here and take care of the house while we are travelling.Mr. Barker, an excellent fellow and a most thorough businessman, still manages my affairs, and there is nothing on the placethat flourishes so vigorously as the bed of pinks which I gotfrom the miller's wife.By the way, when I went back to my lodging on that eventfulday, the miller's wife met me at the door."I kept your breakfast waitin' for you for a good while,"said she, "but as you didn't come, I supposed you were takin'breakfast in your own house, and I cleared it away.""Do you know who I am?" I exclaimed."Oh, yes, sir," she said. "We did not at first, but wheneverybody began to talk about it we couldn't help knowin' it.""Everybody!" I gasped. "And may I ask what you and everybodysaid about me?""I think it was the general opinion, sir," said she, "thatyou were suspicious of them tenants of yours, and nobody wonderedat it, for when city people gets into the country and on otherpeople's property, there's no trustin' them out of your sight fora minute."I could not let the good woman hold this opinion of mytenants, and I briefly told her the truth. She looked at me withmoist admiration in her eyes."I am glad to hear that, sir," said she. "I like it verymuch. But if I was you I wouldn't be in a hurry to tell myhusband and the people in the neighborhood about it. They mightbe a little disappointed at first, for they had a mighty highopinion of you when they thought that you was layin' low here tokeep an eye on them tenants of yours."

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