Puslapio vaizdai



tinent of Europe has implied continual certainly do not want trouble. We are war, England has only occasionally had to in no sense of the word a rival in naval fight to maintain her sea-rule. The un- matters, as we have no ambition to rule inhabited waves do not revolt.

the waves. But without doubt peevishness The free use of the seas is a vital neces- at England's arbitrary actions in this war, sity to the English. They have tried to nominally to punish Germany, has secure this by force. At times their navy strengthened the hands of our navalists. has been strong enough to face all the And every battle-ship we lay down is an world combined, but those times were added menace to British supremacy at sea long ago.

For a while they had a tra- -a new unit to be reckoned as a possible dition that their sea-force must equal any element in an anti-English naval coalition. two other navies combined. But this It has happened that whenever vexation "two-power standard," which they have has run high against England in this war, found too expensive to maintain, would be Germany has committed some worse stuutterly insufficient if any strong third pidity, like the sinking of the Lusitania, power had joined the hostile combine. and has relieved the tension. But Sir EdFor many years Britannia has ruled the

ward can hardly claim credit for this. waves because the rest of the world did The British sea-rule is threatened from not object.

another quarter.

During the course of Far-sighted Englishmen have always the war it is manifestly to the interest realized that their maritime interests de- of all her allies to have England rule the manded a policy which would reduce the

So far her naval action has been amount of hostility to their sea-rule to a her chief contribution to the struggle. But minimum. What they really want is se- as soon as the common aim is attained, curity for their immense mercantile fleet. the defeat of Germany,—the situation It is manifestly to their disadvantage to changes at once. France and Italy are offend other people unnecessarily in at- maritime and colonial powers.

If the taining this end. It is hard to find any Dardanelles are opened, Russia becomes a seafaring nation which their recent policy Mediterranean power. They are as much has not offended.

interested, aside from the abnormal cirThe "phantom blockade" has immensely cumstances of this war, in the freedom of increased the unpopularity in Europe of the seas as Holland or Germany. the British sea-rule.

England can regain her old position If the war should end to-day, the Brit- only by convincing her possible rivals that ish admiralty would have to take into ac- she will rule the waves as much in their count the possibility that the Scandinavian interests as in her own. It will be hard countries and Holland, Spain, and Greece to do. For, under Sir Edward's adminismight join in any hostile naval combina- tration, the ententes, while maintaining tion. None of these nations has a strong their vigor as fighting pledges, have befleet, but their sum is considerable. Re- come decidedly less cordial. Britain seems garded as a purely European problem, doomed to share the expense-and gloryEngland's use, or misuse, of her sea-power of sea-rule with some allied maritime nahas largely increased the number of her tion. ill-wishers, and this will be reflected in While such a decentralization of naval the size of her future naval budgets. power, a step toward the internationaliza

The situation in regard to the United tion of the sea-routes, will be welcomed by States may become even more serious. the rest of the world, it will be a bitter Nothing would seem more stupid than for pill for the imperialists of Britain. Sir Ed

. Britain to make us dissatisfied with her ward could not have prevented it, but he manner of controlling the sea. Since 1812 will go down in history as the foreign minwe have had few serious conflicts on the ister under whose administration the emwater with our ex-mother country. We pire of the seas passed from the British.

Children of Hope '

Author of “Predestined,” “The Woman from Yonder," etc.

Illustrations by F. R. Gruger




But Thalia, staring out across Lake

Leman, thought, "Every change of landTHE FATES LEAD THE GRACES TO THE

scape separates us more and more!" PENSION SCHWANDORF

Meanwhile, she reflected, the blackN the first of June the Goodchild haired young woman of the Cherbourg

family left Paris for Switzerland. tender was no doubt in Paris still, conThey entered a land where the sky was tinually seeing him, laughing at all his filled with amethyst and silver peaks, jokes, and able, if she learned of his where lakes spread green ripples between behavior in the music-hall, to tell him he steep heights of verdure, where steam- was forgiven! And Thallie pictured to boats released one into villages clinging herself the attitudes of such a round the skirts of precipices, the chalets ciliation-sweetly magnanimous gestures shaded by a row of chestnut-trees, the which even ended, maybe, in a caress? casino a-twitter with flutes and violins, Her thoughts were scattered by the and, clustered behind the church, some shout, "Gare de Cornavin!" The train graves adorned with wreaths of metal had reached Geneva. pansies encircling a photograph. They The blue Rhone, tumbling beneath its saw the Falls of the Rhine, the Lion of bridges, separated long quays lined with Lucerne, the bear-pit at Bern. They whitish buildings and avenues of trees. peered through the clouds on Rigi-Kulm, From the balconies of a pension in the shaded their eyes from the splendor of the Rue des Alpes one looked across the lakeMatterhorn, or, in the thin air of the end toward a park behind which ascending Brünig Pass, bought from a mountain- roofs and spires fringed the panorama of child bouquets of edelweiss.

the snow-caps. In the evening, when Then they descended into different Mont Blanc reluctantly withdrew its country. The rounded hills, which all glimmer from the sky, the shores of Lake seemed sloping to the south, were covered Leman were defined by miles of twinkling with vineyards. The German station- lights, and from the courtyard of the signs gave place to French. As the train pension there rose, with a scent of dewy curved down through a meadow of spring foliage, the quaver of a wandering minAowers, all at once Lake Leman spread its strel, whose impromptu ballad, just as in sheen afar, while high above three motion- the days of Bonivard, meandered through less felucca sails, that nearly melted into a tale of piety and patriotism, imprisonthe scintillations of the water, Mont ment and lingering death. Blanc sent forth lambence, like a daytime The pension was inhabited by some moon. Geneva was close at hand.


pleasant, quiet gentlewomen who seemed iCopyright, 1915, by STEPHEN WHITMAN.

All rights reserved.


to have wandered over Europe half their be passed through finger-rings, whose lives. The after-dinner talk was about small heads, covered with curls, turned dressmakers' prices, towns where peculiar slowly at the sighs of gallants in black laces could be bought, the relative merits satin coats embroidered with forget-meof pensions in Switzerland and Italy. All nots. But far down the charmilles, a tall agreed that the nicest place in Florence modern, approaching at a measured pace, was the Pension Schwandorf, kept by an head lowered and hands clasped behind his old lady who had once seen better days. back, drove all those charming ghosts Aglaia made a note of the address.

away. He drew near, and raised his face. She begrudged the time she had to spend It was "Mr. Holland," whom they had in wandering about Geneva, in visiting seen in a New York restaurant ! Coppet, Lausanne, Montreux, Chillon. As With impersonal courtesy, he raised his soon as she was attired for the day, she hat and stood aside. But Aurelius Goodslipped into the parlor, seated herself at child, finding in this strange land one face the pianoforte, and uttered, full voice, a that he had seen before, was as much dephrase from “Madame Butterfly.” At lighted as though he had met a long-lost her first pause the crystal chandeliers gave friend. forth a clash: some

one up-stairs had "You have forgotten me?" he exjumped violently out of bed. But Aglaia claimed, eagerly holding out his hand. went on singing till Thallie, Frossie, and The stranger's glance, amiable, but puzMr. Goodchild bustled in.

zled, passed from Aurelius to Aglaia, to The father wore his loose black cut- Euphrosyne, to Thalia. He replied in his away coat with wrinkled tails; a string- quiet voice: tie of black satin was negligently knotted "The Hotel New York, May underneath his bushy beard; his pearl-col- second, 12:30 A.M.” ored trousers descended in baggy folds to "How small the world is !" Mr. Goodhis Congress gaiters, and he was ready to child cried. "But my daughter Thallie clap over his high, pallid brow the wide- was the one to realize that fact when she brimmed black felt hat which his daugh- insisted that we 'd run into you again ters could not persuade him to abandon. somewhere over here."

"Have you got the Baedeker, Aggie?" Mr. Holland had no trouble in iden

"Aggie, are my new gloves in your tifying Thallie by her blushes. room?"

He, on his every visit to Geneva, made "Please, Aggie, see what 's the matter a pilgrimage to Ferney. He knew the with my waist.”

place well, and offered to guide them "Come, children! We'll have to hurry through it. As they set out toward the if we 're to do the art museum, the cathe- château, the girls scrutinized Mr. Holdral, the town hall, the Russian church, land furtively from head to foot. and catch the train for Ferney!" For He wore an outing suit of tweeds, a that afternoon they were going to inspect cloth hat to match, a soft collar pinned Voltaire's château.

under a cravat of knitted silk, gloves of At Ferney they passed through a gate- dogskin, tan boots covered with dust. He way into a fine estate, the landscape had walked to Ferney from beyond Coptinged with that melancholy which per- pet, a distance of fifteen kilometers. On vades the site of a departed greatness. the garden terrace he tried to point out Here he had wandered in old age, reach- that route, but the three Graces kept looking out his clouded cane, nodding his wig, ing up sidewise at his face. and showing his sardonic, gentle smile! That was the countenance of a man The girls, as though the spring breeze had who had lived forty years in self-respect-been wafted to them from the eighteenth a visage at once fine and rugged, not in century, seemed to see, at the end of leafy the slightest handsome, yet capable of exvistas, ladies whose silken gowns could pressing as much gentleness as sternness.




None of them could imagine him flying But the girls were

more interesting into a rage or flushing from shame or giv- than their father. Aglaia, in a dainty ing way to despair. He irradiated calm- foulard gown the hue of autumn leaves, ness, strength, success. Surer than ever leaned back in her chair, her emerald eyes that he was in some way famous, they half-veiled. Her copper-colored tresses hung upon his speech in hopes that he nearly matched the burnt-straw of the would let fall the enlightening word; but outing-hat which she herself had made Mr. Holland went on talking of Voltaire. after seeing the original in a show-window

The château explored, he seated them of the Place Vendôme. Her thin lips, round a tea-table on the garden terrace. which looked at the same time satirical He took off his gloves; again they saw on and ardent, failed to express her thoughts; his left hand the gold ring set with a but her repose was pervaded by the subtle graved carnelian. Aurelius admired the tension of a woman who is never off her stone, which bore, in intaglio, two classic guard. figures, one riding a ram, the other falling Euphrosyne erect,

her hands into waves.

clasped, in the attitude of an hieratic "See, children, it is Phrixus and Helle!

statue. This pose, her firm young feaAm I not right, sir?"

tures, her eye-glasses, the prim arrangeMr. Holland, glancing at him sharply, ment of her bright-red hair beneath a vioassented. The seal had been dug up in let toque, gave her a look of gravity. But Asia Minor; indeed, he had found it him- hers was a natural, if somewhat stiff, comself.

posure, a rigidity that confessed a moral An archæologist? But they had imag- no less than a physical sedateness. ined archæologists as absent-minded old Thalia leaned forward, her plump elfellows in snuffy coats, with spectacles bows on the table-top, her fingers knotted pushed up on their foreheads, and frowzy before her milk-white throat, of which the sheafs of manuscript protruding from all double rimple showed between the ruftheir pockets.

fles of her corn-yellow gown. Everything Mr. Holland remarked that there were about her seemed Auffy, soft, and yielding, some extraordinary intaglios in the Naples impregnated with a vernal sweetness. Museum. Aurelius announced that in Rich auburn ringlets were tumbling down two days he and his daughters would be before her ears. A peach-like flush exin Italy themselves. Aglaia, he explained, tended over her cheeks clear under her was anxious to take up her singing-les- small chin. The whites of her wide eyes sons, Euphrosyne her novel-writing, were still faintly tinted with the bluishThalia her painting.

ness of childhood. And her parted lips, "And I may be moved to do something "like rose-leaves filled with snow," seemed of my own with pen or brush. I have a made to surrender to the first ravishments feeling that Florence will inspire me." of love. His mild eyes burned suddenly with their Mr. Holland, contemplating that eager, old-time fire as he raised his sensitive face naïve face, all at once looked sad. and added : “Look at Titian! Look at "Where do you stay in Florence?" Mommsen! An immortal picture, a great They turned to Aglaia, .who replied: history, can be conceived only by a mind “The Pension Schwandorf.” that has had time to ripen." Aurelius He approved of that choice. He had took a great gulp of tea, passed a trem- known Mme. von Schwandorf for nearly bling hand across his beard, and gazed twenty years. “Ever since I was young,' earnestly at Mr. Holland.

he added, with a smile at the three The latter smiled a sympathetic, grave Graces. assent, while his eyes, by the faintest A warmth of satisfaction tinged Aggleam, betrayed his pleasure in the novelty laia's pallor. Here was another who did of this encounter.

not suspect her thirty years!


All together they walked back to the the nearest hotel. That night Thallie's gate, between the trees that had spread sleep, disturbed by the rattle of tramtheir shade for the creator of Zaïre. The cars, was full of stilettos and shrieks. girls wondered if this meeting was due to In fourteen hours they viewed the cafate, if some solid benefit was not likely thedral, the castle, the parks, and the to result from it. A man of this sort, so cemetery, bought gloves, tramped the picpolished, so impressive; who seemed to ture-galleries, ate a risotto, praised the know all countries, who was undoubtedly “Last Supper," tried on some hats, mailed acquainted with the most brilliant people! post-cards to far-off Zenasville, watched

He took train with them for Geneva, a religious procession, a dog-fight, a parade and even saw them to the pension door. of soldiers, a runaway, a performance of Did this mean that he desired to call ? “Il Trovatore” at La Scala. In that Timidity prevented them from inviting opera-house Aglaia recalled Mme. Bertha him to do so.

Linkow. With curling lip, she reflected “So you leave day after to-morrow?" that some fine day, when she, too, was a

"Oh," laughed Aglaia, “our plans are famous singer, the volatile prima donna always hit or miss. We


find would manage to remember her very well selves still here next week.”

--would even pretend, no doubt, that she "By that time," said Mr. Holland, "I had discovered her! may be back in this neighborhood."

Meanwhile, with this endless sight-seeStooping to pick a scrap of timothying, how many precious hours were going from her skirt, she bit her lip.

to waste! But at last, without having At any rate, tell Mme. von Schwan- witnessed a single murder, they took the dorf that her old friend John Holland train for Florence. sends his love."

At first they thought they were going He shook hands with Aurelius, with to have the second-class compartment all Aglaia, with Frossie, with Thallie. So, to themselves; but just as the train was after all, he had divined the sisters' rela- about to start, there scrambled in a tive ages! They watched him walk across swarthy, lean, shabby man, with musthe Quai du Mont Blanc, toward the taches brushed straight up from his flat, landing-stages for the lake-boats.

vermilion lips. He threw himself into a Two days later they passed through corner seat, spread a newspaper, and, over the Simplon Tunnel down into Italy. the page, kept staring at the sisters with

They tried to pronounce the new way- the eyes of a vagabond who watches, beside names, which they found romantic tween the half-drawn curtains of a great and sonorous- Domodossola, Pallanza- house, a supper of pheasant, truffles, pineFondo Toco, Stresa, Arona. They called apples, and champagne. When sunshine another's attention to


flooded the car, to their horror they saw shrines, rustic pergolas, marble-quarries, on the ragged cuff of his shirt a blood-red lush fields where peasant-women straight- streak! Whom had he killed ? ened their sturdy figures and stared. They They sat perfectly still, cold tremors rounded a lake, near the shores of which running over their heads, not daring to three islets bore up chrome-yellow masonry look again lest he realize they had discovsurrounded by cypress trees, like the bright ered his dreadful secret. They pretended little realms of fairy-tales where the lov- to admire the landscape; their voices died ers live happily ever after. At dusk, they in their throats; at every movement made rumbled into a station that echoed the by the stranger their nerves contracted. cry, “Milano! Milano! Milano!” The At last the conductor made his rounds, Goodchilds, believing they saw on every accompanied by a carbineer in a three-corside the Camorra, the Mafia, and count- nered hat. And the Goodchild family, less independent assassins, hardly drew shrinking back against the cushions, breath till they found themselves safe in awaited the moment of recognition, of


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