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Iberian Studies on Translation and Interpreting Isabel
GarcÃ​a Izquierdo Digital Instant Download
Author(s): Isabel GarcÃ​a Izquierdo
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New T r e n d s in Tr a ns l at i on St ud i e s N ew Trends in T ra ns lat io n St udies
Vol. 11

García-Izquierdo and Monzó (eds) • Iberian Studies on Translation and Interpreting

This volume gathers contributions representing the main trends in trans­
lation and interpreting studies by authors in the Iberian peninsula, with
a focus on the Iberian languages (Basque, Catalan, Portuguese/Galician
and Spanish). The essays cover different methodologies and objects of
analysis, including traditional textual and historical approaches as well
as contemporary methods, such as cultural, sociological, cognitive and
gender­-oriented perspectives. This seemingly eclectic approach pivots
around seven focal points that aim to reflect the most frequent research
topics in the Iberian peninsula: (i) theoretical and methodological
approaches; (ii) translation and interpreting training; (iii) historical per­
spectives; (iv) terminology; (v) rapidly evolving fields in the translation and
interpreting industry, such as localization and public service interpreting;
(vi) translation of literature; and (vii) translation studies journals.
Iberian Studies on
Isabel García-Izquierdo is Professor of Translation Studies in the Department
of Translation and Communication at the University Jaume I, Spain, where she
Translation and Interpreting
teaches applied linguistics and Spanish language. Since 2000, she has been
head of the GENTT (Géneros Textuales para la Traducción) research team that
focuses on the multilingual analysis of textual genres. She is the author of Análisis
textual aplicado a la Traducción (2000), Divulgación médica y traducción (2010)
and Competencia textual para la traducción (2011); and the editor of El género Isabel García-Izquierdo and
textual y la traducción (2005).
Esther Monzó (eds)
Esther Monzó is Senior Lecturer in Legal Translation in the Department of
Translation and Communication at the University Jaume I, Spain. She is also an
official certified translator and a temporary translator at the Geneva office of
the United Nations and other international organizations. Her research focuses
on the sociological aspects of translation.

ISBN 978-3-0343-0815-1
Peter Lang

www.peterlang.com
New T r e n d s in Tr a ns l at i on St ud i e s N ew Trends in T ra ns lat io n St udies
Vol. 11

García-Izquierdo and Monzó (eds) • Iberian Studies on Translation and Interpreting

This volume gathers contributions representing the main trends in trans­
lation and interpreting studies by authors in the Iberian peninsula, with
a focus on the Iberian languages (Basque, Catalan, Portuguese/Galician
and Spanish). The essays cover different methodologies and objects of
analysis, including traditional textual and historical approaches as well
as contemporary methods, such as cultural, sociological, cognitive and
gender­-oriented perspectives. This seemingly eclectic approach pivots
around seven focal points that aim to reflect the most frequent research
topics in the Iberian peninsula: (i) theoretical and methodological
approaches; (ii) translation and interpreting training; (iii) historical per­
spectives; (iv) terminology; (v) rapidly evolving fields in the translation and
interpreting industry, such as localization and public service interpreting;
(vi) translation of literature; and (vii) translation studies journals.
Iberian Studies on
Isabel García-Izquierdo is Professor of Translation Studies in the Department
of Translation and Communication at the University Jaume I, Spain, where she
Translation and Interpreting
teaches applied linguistics and Spanish language. Since 2000, she has been
head of the GENTT (Géneros Textuales para la Traducción) research team that
focuses on the multilingual analysis of textual genres. She is the author of Análisis
textual aplicado a la Traducción (2000), Divulgación médica y traducción (2010)
and Competencia textual para la traducción (2011); and the editor of El género Isabel García-Izquierdo and
textual y la traducción (2005).
Esther Monzó (eds)
Esther Monzó is Senior Lecturer in Legal Translation in the Department of
Translation and Communication at the University Jaume I, Spain. She is also an
official certified translator and a temporary translator at the Geneva office of
the United Nations and other international organizations. Her research focuses
on the sociological aspects of translation.

Peter Lang

www.peterlang.com
 Iberian Studies on
Translation and Interpreting
New Trends in Translation Studies
V ol ume 11

Series Editor:
Dr Jorge Díaz Cintas

Advis or y Bo ard:
Profes s or S u san B assn et t M c G u i re
Dr Lynne Bowker
Profes s or Frede r ic C hau me
Profes s or A lin e Re mael

PETER LANG
Oxford • Bern • Berlin • Bruxelles • Frankfurt am Main • New York • Wien
 Iberian Studies on
Translation and Interpreting

Isabel García-Izquierdo and Esther Monzó (eds)

PETER LANG
Oxford • Bern • Berlin • Bruxelles • Frankfurt am Main • New York • Wien
Bibliographic information published by Die Deutsche Nationalbibliothek.
Die Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche National-
bibliografie; detailed bibliographic data is available on the Internet at
http://dnb.d-nb.de.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data:

García Izquierdo, Isabel.

Iberian studies on translation and interpreting / Isabel García-Izquierdo and
Esther Monzó .
p. cm. -- (New trends in translation studies; 11)
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-3-0343-0815-1 (alk. paper)
1. Translating and interpreting--Study and teaching (Higher)--Iberian Peninsula.
2. Iberian Peninsula--Languages--Translating. I. Monzó, Esther. II. Title.
P306.8.I3G37 2012
418’.020946--dc23
2012022816

ISSN 1664-249X
ISBN 978-3-0343-0815-1 (print)
ISBN 978-3-0353-0347-6 (eBook)

© Peter Lang AG, International Academic Publishers, Bern 2012

Hochfeldstrasse 32, CH-3012 Bern, Switzerland
[email protected], www.peterlang.com, www.peterlang.net

All rights reserved.

All parts of this publication are protected by copyright.
Any utilisation outside the strict limits of the copyright law, without
the permission of the publisher, is forbidden and liable to prosecution.
This applies in particular to reproductions, translations, microfilming,
and storage and processing in electronic retrieval systems.

Printed in Germany
Contents

Index of figures ix

Index of tables xi

Introduction 1

Theoretical and methodological approaches 9

Ricardo Muñoz Martín

Standardizing translation process research methods and reports 11

Ovidi Carbonell i Cortés

Translation and social construction:
Conceptual blending and topicality in translator positioning 23

Translation and interpreting training 51

Cristina Valderrey Reñones

Thematic competence in law: The non-lawyer translator 53

M. Luisa Romana García and Pilar Úcar Ventura

Analysis of mistakes in translation learning:
The notion of ‘competential loss’ 71
vi

María Brander de la Iglesia

Fit to be shared? Measuring the acquisition of ethical awareness
in interpreting students 91

Inhabited history 103

Luis Pegenaute Rodríguez

United notions: Spanish translation history and historiography 105

Raquel Merino-Álvarez
A historical approach to Spanish theatre translations from
censorship archives 123

Pilar Godayol
Charlotte Perkins Gilman in Catalan 141

Montserrat Bacardí
Gràcia Bassa, expatriate journalist, poet and translator 155

What’s in a word 167

Marisa Presas and Inna Kozlova

Instrumental competence:
Lexical searches in written text production 169

María Teresa Veiga Díaz

Translators as agents of linguistic change:
Colour terms in medieval literature translated into Galician 191
 vii

Míriam Buendía-Castro and Pamela Faber

EcoLexicon as a tool for scientific translation 209

The translation and interpreting industry 241

Miguel A. Jiménez-Crespo
Web localization in US non-profit websites:
A descriptive study of localization strategies 243

Xus Ugarte-Ballester and Mireia Vargas-Urpi

Public service users, providers and interpreter–mediators
in Catalonia: Profiles, conf luences and divergences 269

Translating literature 291

Victòria Alsina
The translator’s style: Evaluation in three translations of
Jane Austen’s Persuasion 293

Esther Morillas
Four-letter words and more:
Regarding vulgar language and translation 317

Publishing translation and interpreting research 337

Javier Franco Aixelá

A critical overview of the Translation Studies journals
published in Spain 339
viii

Bertha M. Gutiérrez Rodilla

The journal Panace@: A suspension bridge between theory
and practice in the field of bio-medical translation 363

Notes on contributors 375

Index 383
Index of figures

Figure 1 Distribution of phenomena 79

Figure 2 Percentage of mistakes per kind 79
Figure 3 DT (number of ethical dilemmas found) per student 96
Figure 4 Number of students who found each ethical dilemma 97
Figure 5 Distribution of texts included in the corpus by prose type 197
Figure 6 Classification of colour terms into groups of meaning
(adapted from Fernández Lorences 2001) 198
Figure 7 The environmental event 213
Figure 8 type_of concordances of tropical cyclone 219
Figure 9 type_of and phase_of concordances of tropical cyclone 220
Figure 10 cause concordances of tropical cyclone 220
Figure 11 part_of concordances of tropical cyclone 221
Figure 12 has_origin concordances of tropical cyclone 221
Figure 13 measured_by concordances of tropical cyclone 222
Figure 14 has_location concordances of tropical cyclone 222
Figure 15 has_time concordances of tropical cyclone 223
Figure 16 Entry for hurricane in EcoLexicon 225
Figure 17 Iconic images of hurricane 228
Figure 18 Abstract images of hurricane 228
Figure 19 Dynamic image of hurricane 229
Figure 20 Contexts of use for the term ‘hurricane’ in EcoLexicon 231
Figure 21 Verbs activated by hurricane (Buendía-Castro forthcoming) 233
x Index of figures

Figure 22 The translation process (Tarp 2007: 241) 234

Figure 23 Evolution of digital genres from printed to online forms
(adapted from Shepherd and Watters 1998) 252
Figure 24 The non-profit website in the wider context of homepage
digital genres (adapted from Jiménez-Crespo 2008) 254
Figure 25 Percentage of non-profit websites that of fer localization into
languages other than English 257
Figure 26 Localization levels in non-profit websites 259
Figure 27 Percentage of web localization per area 261
Figure 28 Use of web localization strategies in corporate and non-profit
US websites 263
Figure 29 Formal education for the MTI sample 275
Figure 30 MTI first languages in the study sample 275
Figure 31 First working language of MTIs in the study sample 276
Figure 32 Years of public service interpreting experience 277
Figure 33 Type of PSTI work contract 277
Figure 34 Dif ficulties encountered by interpreters 279
Figure 35 Service users: Country of origin 280
Figure 36 First languages of the service end users interviewed 281
Figure 37 Areas of public services where most communication problems occur 282
Figure 38 Relationship with the accompanying person 282
Index of tables

Table 1 Situational level data for a divorce sentence (France/Spain) 61–2

Table 2 Legal sources for the regulation of divorce (France/Spain) 64–5
Table 3 Comparative thematic data on the concept of divorce
(France/Spain) 65–6
Table 4 Quantitative description 76
Table 5 Classification of learning problems in translation 76–7
Table 6 Correlations (for translation units) 81
Table 7 Correlations 1 (for texts) 82–3
Table 8 Specific weight as to rating 84
Table 9 Correlations 2 (for texts) 86
Table 10 Factor analysis (1) 87
Table 11 Factor analysis (2) 88
Table 12 AGA Theatre Database: ‘name’ foreign author 129
Table 13 AGA Theatre Database: ‘year’ 1960–1978 130
Table 14.1 AGA Theatre Database: ‘native author’ no. of translations 135
Table 14.2 AGA Theatre Database: ‘native author’ no. of original plays 136
Table 15 Origin of the problem in text production 178
Table 16 Criteria used in problem definition 179
Table 17 Accuracy in problem definition 180
Table 18 Complexity of strategies 180
Table 19 Degree of search planning: Number of planned look-ups 181
Table 20 Subjective assessment of having identified a problem:
The feeling expressed 182–3
xii Index of tables

Table 21 Subjective assessment of having defined a problem:

Accuracy assessment 183
Table 22 Subjective assessment of problem management after a search failure 184
Table 23 Subjective assessment of having found an acceptable solution:
Learning outcomes 185
Table 24 Main groups of meaning in non-translated and translated texts 200
Table 25 Tagged definitions of tropical cyclone 215–16
Table 26 Comparative definitions of tropical cyclone 217
Table 27 tropical cyclone conceptual relations and attributes 223–4
Table 28 Knowledge patterns and their conceptual relations (León and
Reimerink 2010) 226
Table 29 Analysis of web localization strategies per geographical area 259
Table 30 Combined analysis of localization strategies of non-profit
websites in the USA 260
Table 31 Mr Elliot’s personal appearance 299
Table 32 Mr Elliot’s social qualities 300–1
Table 33 Mr Elliot’s intellectual qualities 302
Table 34 Mr Elliot’s temperament and moral qualities 303
Table 35 Anne’s personal appearance 306–7
Table 36 Anne’s social qualities 308
Table 37 Anne’s intellectual qualities 309–10
Table 38 Anne’s temperament and moral qualities 310–11
Table 39 Relationships between actions and vulgar language 319
Table 40 Quality indexes that include Spanish living journals 348–9
Table 41 Impact of Spanish TS living journals created before 2006 for
2001–2010 351–2
Isabel García-Izquierdo and Esther Monzó

Introduction1

The Iberian Association of Translation and Interpreting Studies (AIETI)

was founded in 2003 to gather translation and interpreting researchers with
an interest in the Iberian languages (Basque, Catalan, Portuguese/Galician,
Spanish). Research in the field in the territory of the Iberian Peninsula
(Portugal and Spain) had a strong tradition and a dramatic development
that was – and still is – not matched by an international visibilization of
the Iberian production. The AIETI thus aimed to bring the interests and
results of Iberian-based research to the international community.
Since 2003 the association has been organizing an international confer-
ence every two years. The scope has always been broad in nature, focusing
on the languages covered by the interests of the association itself, as stated
above. This book is a collection of articles deriving from the 2011 AIETI
Conference, held at the University Jaume I of Castelló, Spain, as the sitting
Secretary of the association. Although this was the fifth conference of the
association, this book is the first selection of papers outlining the state of
the art in Translation Studies in the Iberian Peninsula.
Translation and interpreting training programs have been ongoing
in Spain since the seventies and have undergone dif ferent reforms leading
to consolidated undergraduate and postgraduate programs specialized in
Translation and Interpreting (25 undergraduate programs as of 2011) and in
specific fields of expertise at postgraduate level (legal, audiovisual, literary,
technical, scientific translation, interpreting, translation research). Also,
PhD-track programmes have either incorporated dif ferent aspects of transla-
tion and interpreting or have been devoted exclusively to the field since the
eighties, thus leading to a critical mass of researchers and research projects.

1 Funding for the publication of this volume has been provided by the Generalitat
Valenciana project AORG/2011/147.
2 Isabel García-Izquierdo and Esther Monzó

Portugal is a particular case in point, since translation and interpret-

ing programs have been in place for a rather short time and research in the
field is becoming increasingly popular. Recent reforms have allowed for
the introduction of Translation and Interpreting Studies at postgraduate
level, thus signalling the increasing interest in the field.
As may be said generally of Translation and Interpreting Studies, lit-
erature-based studies have been dominant in the Iberian Peninsula for a
rather long time as far as research is concerned. However, the existence of
undergraduate degrees and the need for trainers to prepare professionals to
work in the real world has led to the emergence of new research on different
fields of translation, such as legal, medical, audiovisual or technical, inter-
preting and mediation, terminology and documentation. In those fields
the paradigms used have been diverse and not always coordinated towards
a common goal. Textual and historical studies have been leading the way
for quite a long time, but cultural, sociological and cognitive perspectives
have been entering the field steadily.
Contents in this book have been structured around seven focal points
which aim to ref lect the most visited research topics in the Iberian Pen-
insula as represented at the conference. A first block on theoretical and
methodological approaches focuses on one of the latest paradigms to enter
the Iberian Peninsula, the cognitive approach. The second part gathers con-
tributions on one of the most visited areas of interest for Iberian scholars,
that is, translator’s and interpreter’s training. Next, contributions approach
translation from a historical perspective, particularly important in the
Spanish tradition. Especially central to Iberian minority languages is the
question of terminology, covered in the third section. Specialized fields are
covered in the fifth block, and the sixth section gathers articles on literary
translation. Finally a major concern for Spanish and Portuguese scholars
is covered, namely the quality and impact of publications.
In the first section, titled Theoretical and methodological approaches,
Ricardo Muñoz Martín, in ‘Standardizing translation process research
methods and reports’, establishes the basis for the next steps of a cognitive
translatology. After pointing out its evolution to date, he focuses on essential
key points in designing empirical testing which will empower translatology
as a discipline on its path to becoming a science. Ovidi Carbonell i
Introduction 3

Cortés, in ‘Translation and social construction: Conceptual blending and

topicality in translator positioning’, gathers and develops analytical tools
from dif ferent cognitive models to approach the study of the translator’s
intervention. He emphasizes the issues of conceptual blending, transitiv-
ity, thematization, modality and especially topicality to test his model on
the translation of ideology in a text about immigration.
The three following studies, in the section Translation and interpreting
training, focus on the training of translators and interpreters from dif ferent
perspectives. The study by Cristina Valderrey Reñones, ‘Thematic
competence in law: The non-lawyer translator’, focuses on the knowledge
of the legal systems at stake that is required in a specialized translation
and proposes how a translator should acquire that knowledge. She argues
that translators have no need to be experts in the legal field but do need
to possess thematic competence. She further suggests contrastive descrip-
tive textual studies as a method to acquire such knowledge and discusses
the approach by way of an example. Results allow the author to propose a
model for the training and self-training of translators.
M. Luisa Romana García and Pilar Úcar Ventura’s contribu-
tion, ‘Analysis of mistakes in translation learning: The notion of “compe-
tential loss”’, presents a cognitive approach to translation didactics. After
reviewing literature on error in translation training from a cognitive per-
spective, they point out a widespread idea: mistakes are related either to
the source or the target text. They take a quantitative approach to this issue
by analysing the translations handed down by first-year students and by
categorizing their mistakes by way of a factorial analysis. Results seem to
suggest that some errors cannot be analysed from this perspective and they
propose the concept of ‘competential loss’ to describe the situation where a
trainee translator does not activate skills they have already acquired, which
might explain why they produce excerpts that do not respect grammar rules
in the students’ native language.
María Brander de la Iglesia’s article, ‘Fit to be shared? Meas-
uring the acquisition of ethical awareness in interpreting students’, deals
with ethics in interpreting training and suggests a training methodology
to foster ethical behaviour and, mostly, awareness in the interpreter-to-be.
The approach adopted by the author opposes the teaching and learning
4 Isabel García-Izquierdo and Esther Monzó

methods in which the understanding of deontological rules is tested by

means of exercises where their application prompts a right/wrong answer
by the trainer. By adopting an action research cycle in the classroom, the
concepts of truth and rightness in moral behaviour are problematized and
the trainer escapes the role of a master.
In the third part, Inhabited history, contributions develop a history
of Iberian translation from dif ferent perspectives and levels of analy-
sis. In ‘United notions: Spanish translation history and historiography’
Luis Pegenaute Rodríguez states that we have to acknowledge that
researchers in Spain appear to have applied themselves diligently to laying
the foundations of a modern Spanish theory of translation, as works of a
historical nature play a leading role within the rich bibliography produced
in the discipline. The author deals with the complex distinction between
history of translation and historiography (whose studies are more recent
and scarce) as well as with the analysis of their main methodological chal-
lenges: on the one hand, the objects of study, that is to say, the translations
and the translators, and on the other hand, the methods used to study
them, in particular, the periodization of time, and the delimitation of the
geographical surroundings.
In ‘A historical approach to Spanish theatre in translations from cen-
sorship archives’, Raquel Merino-Álvarez of fers a brief overview of
the research undertaken over the last few years under the TRACE (trans-
lation and censorship, or censored translations) project with respect to
theatre translation. Using dif ferent case studies, the author concludes that
the history of Spanish theatre cannot be accounted for fully if translations
are not integrated in its scope, simply because foreign theatre was part of
Spanish theatre in the twentieth century.
Pilar Godayol’s article, ‘Charlotte Perkins Gilman in Catalan’, deals
with the reception in Catalonia of two feminist classics from the begin-
ning of the twentieth century, The Yellow Wallpaper (1899) and Herland
(1915) by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. She also includes some notes on their
dif fusion in both Spanish and Galician. The author concludes that in spite
of the unique nature of the texts, these works are instrumental in fully estab-
lishing feminist fiction of the turn of century as part of world literature.
Introduction 5

Finally, in ‘Gràcia Bassa, expatriate journalist, poet and translator’,

Montserrat Bacardí reviews Bassa’s relevance in the translation of
Catalan literature written in exile, through her journalistic and feminist
writings as well as her patriotic articles. Bassa had an unquenchable desire
to learn and to broaden her knowledge, as is evident in the variety of infor-
mation she wrote about her translations. She contributed to enlarging the
‘treasure trove’ with the publication of individual poems in Catalan journals
published in the diaspora of Buenos Aires, especially in Ressorgiment but
also in Catalunya. She managed to integrate them through a unique, risky
literary operation. With her article, Bacardí aims at promoting Bassa’s work
on dif ferent grounds, especially because of her ef forts as a pioneer translator.
The fourth section, What’s in a word, starts with the contribution by
Marisa Presas and Inna Kozlova. Their study ‘Instrumental compe-
tence: Lexical searches in written text production’ aims at understanding the
so-called ‘novice instrumental competence’. In particular, the authors want
to understand how language for specific purposes (LSP) and translation
students manage the process of solving lexical problems using resources for
text production: how they define their problems, what strategies they apply,
what resources they use and what attitudes they show towards problem-
solving and the reference process. The authors collected the data for the
study by means of a questionnaire and as a consequence they call for the
need to triangulate their results with the data and solution criteria obtained
in actual text production.
María Teresa Veiga Díaz, in ‘Translators as agents of linguistic
change: Colour terms in medieval literature translated into Galician’, pre-
sents the results of an analysis of the colour terms used in medieval texts
translated into Galician and aims to identify cases of incorporation of loan-
words through translations as well as to determine the extent to which these
incorporations may have affected the evolution of colour terms in Galician.
To this end, the author quantitatively and qualitatively compares the occur-
rences of colour terms extracted from medieval texts written originally in
Galician and the occurrences of colour terms extracted from medieval texts
translated into Galician from other languages, mainly Latin and French. The
analysis provides a basis for the rehabilitation of the colour term system used
in current Galician, which contains a large number of Spanish loanwords.
6 Isabel García-Izquierdo and Esther Monzó

Míriam Buendía-Castro and Pamela Faber, in ‘EcoLexicon as

a tool for scientific translation’, state that the methodology used in docu-
mentation and terminological extraction during the translation process has
changed considerably. In the past, translators relied exclusively on lexico-
graphic and terminographic repositories, such as paper dictionaries; today,
however, online resources have become the main source of documentation.
They present an online resource, EcoLexicon, based on a cognitive approach
to terminology. Their study shows that this resource is of great value for
translators in the following contexts: (a) prior to translation in order to
acquire specialized knowledge quickly and ef ficiently for a translation
job; (b) during translation in order to find translation correspondences
in dif ferent languages, usage patterns, and the like.
The next section, The translation and interpreting industry, comprises
two articles. Miguel A. Jiménez-Crespo, in ‘Web localization in US
non-profit websites: A descriptive study of localization strategies’ focuses
on the role of web localization. The expansion of this field has been con-
tinually increasing parallel to the expansion of the World Wide Web. The
questions posed are the following: how many non-profit websites have
been localized in the United States? If localized, what are the localization
strategies used in the context of a time and resource constrained process.
The study sampled a representative population of 1,890 websites. Detailed
statistics are provided for each geographical area selected, languages of
localization, and specialized field, such as legal, healthcare or employment
NGOs. The study sheds some light on the role of web localization in non-
profits in the United States and provides a foundation for future studies
on the role of web localization as a case of social translation.
Xus Ugarte-Ballester and Mireia Vargas-Urpi’s contribution,
‘Public service users, providers and interpreter–mediators in Catalonia:
Profiles, conf luences and divergences’, focuses on community interpreting in
Catalonia. They define the professional profile of the public services trans-
lator and interpreter in Catalonia, and describe the needs and preferences
of the end-users and providers of public services: namely, the dif ficulties
they encounter in their communication exchanges, the kind of mediation
the two groups prefer, which foreign languages are most in demand and
the specific characteristics involved in each field of intervention.
Other documents randomly have
different content
indefinitely. They think it will do me a lot of good—get me out of
myself, they call it. But I can’t see it. Since I came home—every time
I think of facing mobs of people”—again his voice grew sharp—“I’m
clutched by something I can’t describe. It is perfectly unreasonable,
but I can’t help it.”
For a moment they walked in silence, then he went on—“Mother’s
very keen about it. She thinks it will set me up. But I want to stay
here—and I thought if you’d talk to her, she’ll listen to you, Jane—
she always does.”
“Does she know how you feel about it?”
“No, I think not. I’ve never told her. I’ve only spilled over to you now
and then. It would hurt Mother, no end, to know how changed I
am.”
Jane laid her hand on his arm. “You’re not. Brace up, old dear. You
aren’t dead yet.” As she lifted her head to look up at him, the hood
of her cape slipped back, and the wind blew her soft, thick hair
against his cheek. “But I’ll talk to your mother if you want me to.
She is a great darling.”
Jane meant what she said; she was really very fond of Mrs. Follette.
And in this she was unlike the rest of the folk in Sherwood. Mrs.
Follette was extremely unpopular in the Park.
They had reached the kitchen door. “Won’t you come in?” Jane said.
“No, I’ve got to get back. I only ran over for a moment. I have to
have a daily sip of you, Jane.”
“Baldy’s bringing a steak for dinner. Help us eat it.”
“Sorry, but Mother would be alone.”
“When shall I talk to her?”
“There’s no hurry. The cousins are staying on for the opening of
Congress. Jane dear, don’t despise me——” His voice broke.
“Evans, as if I could.”
Again her hand was on his arm. He laid his own over it. “You’re the
best ever, Janey,” he said, huskily—and presently he went away.
Jane, going in, found that Baldy had telephoned. “He kain’t git here
until seven,” Sophy told her.
“You had better run along home,” Jane told her. “I’ll cook the steak
when it comes.”
Sophy was old and she was tired. Life hadn’t been easy. The son
who was to have been the prop of her old age had been killed in
France. There was a daughter’s daughter who had gone north and
who now and then sent money. Old Sophy did not know where her
granddaughter got the money, but it was good to have it when it
came. But it was not enough, so old Sophy worked.
“I hates to leave you here alone, Miss Janey.”
“Oh, run along, Sophy. Baldy will come before I know it.”
So Sophy went and Jane waited. Seven o’clock arrived, with the
dinner showing signs of deterioration. Jane sat at the front window
and watched. The old cat watched, too, perched on the sill, and
gazing out into the dark with round, mysterious eyes. The kitten
slept on the hearth. Jane grew restless and stood up, peering out.
Then all at once two round moons arose above the horizon, were
lost as the road dipped down, showed again on the rise of the hill,
and lighted the lawn as Baldy’s car made a half circle and swept into
the garage.
Jane went through the kitchen to the back door, throwing an
appraising glance at the things in the warming oven, and stood
waiting on the threshold, hugging herself in the keenness of the
wind.
Presently her brother’s tall form was silhouetted against the silvery
gray of the night.
“I thought you were never coming,” she said to him.
“I thought so, too.” He bent and kissed her; his cheek was cold as it
touched hers.
“Aren’t you nearly frozen?”
“No. Sorry to be late, honey. Get dinner on the table and I’ll be
ready——”
“I’m afraid things won’t be very appetizing,” she told him; “they’ve
waited so long. But I’ll cook the steak——”
He had gone on, and was beyond the sound of her voice. She
opened the fat parcel which he had deposited on the kitchen table.
She wondered a bit at its size. But Baldy had a way of bringing
home unexpected bargains—a dozen boxes of crackers—unwieldy
pounds of coffee.
But this was neither crackers nor coffee. The box which was
revealed bore the name of a fashionable florist. Within were violets—
single ones—set off by one perfect rose and tied with a silver ribbon.
Jane gasped—then she went to the door and called:
“Baldy, where’s the steak?”
He came to the top of the stairs. “Great guns,” he said, “I forgot it!”
Then he saw the violets in her hands, laughed and came down a
step or two. “I sold a loaf of bread and bought—white hyacinths
——”
“They’re heavenly!” Her glance swept up to him. “Peace offering?”
There were gay sparks in his eyes. “We’ll call it that.”
She blew a kiss to him from the tips of her fingers. “They are
perfectly sweet. And we can have an omelette. Only if we eat any
more eggs, we’ll be flapping our wings.”
“I don’t care what we have. I am so hungry I could eat a house.” He
went back up the stairs, laughing.
Jane, breaking eggs into a bowl, meditated on the nonchalance of
men. She meditated, too, on the mystery of Baldy’s mood. The
flowers were evidence of high exaltation. He did not often lend
himself to such extravagance.
He came down presently and helped carry in the belated dinner. The
potatoes lay like withered leaves in a silver dish, the cornbread was
a wrinkled wreck, the pudding a travesty. Only Jane’s omelette and a
lettuce salad had escaped the blight of delay.
Then, too, there was Philomel, singing. Jane drew a cup of coffee,
hot and strong, and set it at her brother’s place. The violets were in
the center of the table, the cats purring on the hearth.
Jane loved her little home with almost passionate intensity. She
loved to have Baldy in a mood like this—things right once more with
his world.
She knew it was so by the ring of his voice, the cock of his head—
hence she was not in the least surprised when he leaned forward
under the old-fashioned spreading dome which drenched him with
light, and said, “I’ve such a lot to tell you, Jane; the most amazing
thing has happened.”
 CHAPTER II
A PRINCESS PASSES

When young Baldwin Barnes had ridden out of Sherwood that

morning on his way to Washington, his car had swept by fields which
were crisp and frozen; by clumps of trees whose pointed tops cut
into the clear blue of the sky; over ice-bound streams, all shining
silver in the early sunlight.
It was very cold, and his little car was open to the weather. But he
felt no chill. He wore the mustard-colored top-coat which had been
his lieutenant’s garb in the army. The collar was turned up to protect
his ears. His face showed pink and wedge-shaped between his soft
hat and his collar.
He had the eye of an artist, and he liked the ride. Even in winter the
countryside was attractive—and as the road slipped away, there
came a few big houses surrounded by wide grounds, with glimpses
through their high hedges of white statues, of spired cedars, of sun-
dials set in the midst of dead gardens.
Beyond these there was an arid stretch until the Lake was reached,
then the links of one country club, the old buildings of another, and
at last on the crest of a hill, a view of the city—sweeping on the
right towards Arlington and on the left towards Soldiers’ Home.
Turning into Sixteenth Street, he crossed a bridge with its buttresses
guarded by stone panthers—and it was on this bridge that his car
stopped.
Climbing out, he blamed Fate furiously. Years afterward, however, he
dared not think of the difference it might have made if his little
flivver had not failed him.
He raised the hood and tapped and tinkered. Now and then he
stopped to stamp his feet or beat his hands together. And he said
things under his breath. He would be late at the office—life was just
one—darned thing—after another!
Once when he stopped, a woman passed him. She was tall and
slender and wrapped up to her ears in moleskin. Her small hat was
blue, from her hand swung a gray suede bag, her feet were in gray
shoes with cut-steel buckles.
Baldy’s quick eyes took in the details of her costume. He reflected as
he went back to work that women were fools to court death in that
fashion, with thin slippers and silk stockings, in this bitter weather.
He found the trouble, fixed it, jumped into his car and started his
motor. And it was just as he was moving that his eye was caught by
a spot of blue bobbing down the hill below the bridge. The woman
who had passed him was making her way slowly along the slippery
path. On each side of her the trees were brown and bare. At the foot
of the hill was a thread of frozen water.
It was not usual at this time to see pedestrians in that place. Now
and then a workman took a short cut—or on warm days there were
picnic parties—but to follow the rough paths in winter was a bleak
and arduous adventure.
He stayed for a moment to watch her, then suddenly left his car and
ran. The girl in the blue hat had caught her high heels in a root, had
stumbled and fallen.
When he reached her, she was struggling to her feet. He helped her,
and picked up the bag which she had dropped.
“Thank you so much.” Her voice was low and pleasing. He saw that
she was young, that her skin was very fair, and that the hair which
swept over her ears was pale gold, but most of all, he saw that her
eyes were burning blue. He had never seen eyes quite like them.
The old poets would have called them sapphire, but sapphires do
not flame.
“It was so silly of me to try to do it,” she was protesting, “but I
thought it might be a short cut——”
He wondered what her destination might be that this remote path
should lead to it. But all he said was, “High heels aren’t made for—
mountain climbing——”
“They aren’t made for anything,” she said, looking down at the steel-
buckled slippers, “useful.”
“Let me help you up the hill.”
“I don’t want to go up.”
He surveyed the steep incline. “I am perfectly sure you don’t want to
go down.”
“I do,” she hesitated, “but I suppose I can’t.”
He had a sudden inspiration. “Can I take you anywhere? My little
flivver is up there on the bridge. Would you mind that?”
“Would I mind if a life-line were thrown to me in mid-ocean?” She
said it lightly, but he fancied there was a note of high hope.
They went up the hill together. “I want to get an Alexandria car,” she
told him.
“But you are miles away from it.”
“Am I?” She showed momentary confusion. “I—hoped I might reach
it through the Park——”
“You might. But you might also freeze to death in the attempt like a
babe in the wood, without any robins to perform the last melancholy
rites. What made you think of such a thing?”
He saw at once his mistake. Her voice had a touch of frigidity. “I
can’t tell you.”
“Sorry,” he said abruptly. “You must forgive me.”
She melted. “No, it is I who should be forgiven. It must look strange
to you—but I’d rather not—explain——”
On the last steep rise of the hill he lifted her over a slippery pool,
and as his hand sank into the soft fur of her wrap, he was conscious
of its luxury. It seemed to him that his mustard-colored coat fairly
shouted incongruity. His imagination swept on to Raleigh, and the
velvet cloak which might do the situation justice. He smiled at
himself and smiling, too, at her, felt a tingling sense of coming
circumstance.
It was because of that smile, and the candid, boyish quality of it,
that she trusted him. “Do you know,” she said, “I haven’t had a thing
to eat this morning, and I’m frightfully hungry. Is there any place
that I could have a cup of coffee—where you could bring it out to
me in the car?”
“Could I?” the morning stars sang. “There’s a corking place in
Georgetown.”
“Without the world looking on?”
“Without your world looking on,” boldly.
She hesitated, then told the truth. “I’m running away——”
He was eager. “May I help?”
“Perhaps you wouldn’t if you knew.”
“Try me.”
He helped her into his car, tucked the rug about her, and put up the
curtains. “No one can see you on the back seat,” he said, and drove
to Georgetown on the wings of the wind.
He brought coffee out to her from a neat shop where milk was sold,
and buns, and hot drinks, to motormen and conductors. It was a
clean little place, fresh as paint, and the buttered rolls were brown
and crisp.
“I never tasted anything so good,” the runaway told Baldy. “And now
I am going to ask you to drive me over the Virginia side—I’ll get the
trolley there.”
When at last he drew up at a little way station, and unfastened the
curtain, he was aware that she had opened the suede bag and had a
roll of bills in her hand. For a moment his heart failed him. Was she
going to offer him money?
But what she said, with cheeks flaming, was: “I haven’t anything
less than ten dollars. Do you think they will take it?”
“It’s doubtful. I have oodles of change.” He held out a handful of
silver.
“Thank you so much, and—you must let me have your card——”
“Oh, please——”
Her voice had an edge of sharpness. “Of course it must be a loan.”
He handed her his card in silence. She read the name. “Mr. Barnes,
you have been very kind. I am tremendously grateful.”
“It was not kindness—but now and then a princess passes.”
For a breathless moment her amazed glance met his—then the clang
of a bell heralded an approaching car.
As he helped her out hurriedly she stumbled over the rug. He caught
her up, lifted her to the ground, and motioned to the motorman.
The car stopped and she mounted the steps. “Good-bye, and thank
you so much.” He stood back and she waved to him while he
watched her out of sight.
His work at the office that morning had dreams for an
accompaniment. He went out at lunch-time but ate nothing. It was
at lunch-time that he bought the violets—paying an unthinkable
price for them, and not caring.
He had wild thoughts of following the road to Alexandria—of finding
his Juliet on some balcony and climbing up to her. Or of sending the
flowers forth addressed largely to “A Princess who passed.” One
could not, however, be sure of an uncomprehending mail service. He
would need more definite appellation.
He had not, indeed, bought the flowers for Jane. He had had no
thought of his sister as he passed the florist’s window. He had been
drawn into the shop by the association of ideas—when he entered all
the scent and sweetness seemed to belong to a garden in which his
lady walked.
He did not eat any lunch, and he took the box of violets back with
him to the office, wrapped to prodigious size to protect it from the
cold. It was an object of much curiosity to his fellow-clerks as it sat
on the window-sill. They all wanted to know who it was for, and one
of the abhorred flappers, who, at times, took Baldy’s dictation, tried
to peep between the covers.
He felt that her glance would be desecration. What did she know of
delicate fragrances? Her perfumes were oriental, and she used a
lipstick!
He managed, however, to carry the thing off lightly. He was, in the
opinion of the office, a gay and companionable chap. They knew
nothing of his reactions. And he was popular.
So now he said to the girl, “If you’ll let that alone, I’ll bring a box of
chocolates for the crowd.”
“Why can’t I look at it?”
“Because curiosity is a deadly sin. You know what happened to
Bluebeard’s wife?”
“Oh, Bluebeard.” She had read of him, she thought, in the Paris
papers. He had killed a lot of wives. She giggled a little in deference
to the spiciness of the subject. Then pinned him down to his promise
of sweets. “You know the kind we like?”
“This week?”
“Yes. Butter creams.”
“Last week it was the nut kind. One never knows. I should think you
ought to standardize your tastes.”
“That would be stupid, wouldn’t it? It’s much more exciting to
change.”
He went back to his work and forgot her. She was one of the
butterflies who had flitted to Washington during the war, and had set
that conservative city by the ears in defiance of tradition.
It was these young women who had eaten their lunches within the
sacred precincts of Lafayette Square, draping themselves on its
statues at noon-time, and strewing its immaculate sward with
broken boxes and bags, who had worn sheer and insufficient
clothing, had motored under the moon and without a moon,
unchaperoned, until morning, and had come through it all a little
damaged, perhaps, as to ideals, but having made a definite impress
on the life of the capital. The days of the cave-dwellers were dead.
For better, for worse, the war-worker and the women of old
Washington had been swept out together from a safe and snug
harbor into the raging seas of social readjustment.
It was after office that Baldy carried the flowers to his car. He set
the box on the back seat. In the hurry of the morning he had
forgotten the rug which still lay where his fair passenger had
stumbled over it. He picked it up and something dropped from its
folds. It was the gray suede bag, half open, and showing the roll of
bills. Beneath the roll of bills was a small sheer handkerchief, a
vanity case with a pinch of powder and a wee puff, a new check-
book—and, negligently at the very bottom, a ring—a ring of such
enchantment that as it lay in Baldy’s hand, he doubted its reality.
The hoop was of platinum, slender, yet strong enough to bear up a
carved moonstone in a circle of diamonds. The carving showed a
delicate Psyche—with a butterfly on her shoulder. The diamonds
blazed like small suns.
Inside the ring was an inscription—“Del to Edith—Forever.”
Del to Edith? Where had he seen those names? With a sudden flash
of illumination, he dropped the ring back into the bag, stuffed the
bag in his pocket, and made his way to a newsboy at the corner.
There it was in startling headlines: Edith Towne Disappears. Delafield
Simms’ Yacht Said to Have Been Sighted Near Norfolk!
So his passenger had been the much-talked-about Edith Towne—
deserted at the moment of her marriage!
He thought of her eyes of burning blue,—the fairness of her skin and
hair—the touch of haughtiness. Simms was a cur, of course! He
should have knelt at her feet!
The thing to do was to get the bag back to her. He must advertise at
once. On the wings of this decision, his car whirled down the
Avenue. The lines which, after much deliberation, he pushed across
the counter of the newspaper office, would be ambiguous to others,
but clear to her. “Will passenger who left bag with valuable contents
in Ford car call up Sherwood Park 49.”
 CHAPTER III
JANE KNITS

“Is she really as beautiful as that?” Jane demanded.

“As what?”
“Her picture in the paper.”
“Haven’t I said enough for you to know it?”
Jane nodded. “Yes. But it doesn’t sound real to me. Are you sure you
didn’t dream it?”
“I’ll say I didn’t. Isn’t that the proof?” The gray bag lay on the table
in front of them, the ring was on Jane’s finger.
She turned it to catch the light. “Baldy,” she said, “it’s beyond
imagination.”
“I told you——”
“Think of having a ring like this——”
“Think,” fiercely, “of having a lover who ran away.”
“Well,” said Jane, “there are some advantages in being—unsought.
I’m like the Miller-ess of Dee—
“I care for nobody—
No, not I,
Since nobody
Cares—
For me——!”
She sang it with a light boyish swing of her body. Her voice was
girlish and sweet, with a touch of huskiness.
Baldy flung his scorn at her. “Jane, aren’t you ever in earnest?”
“Intermittently,” she smiled at him, came over and tucked her arm in
his. “Baldy,” she coaxed, “aren’t you going to tell her uncle?”
He stared at her. “Her uncle? Tell him what?”
“That you’ve found the bag.”
He flung off her arm. “Would you have me turn traitor?”
“Heavens, Baldy, this isn’t melodrama. It’s common sense. You can’t
keep that bag.”
“I can keep it until she answers my advertisement.”
“She may never see your advertisement, and the money isn’t yours,
and the ring isn’t.”
He was troubled. “But she trusted me. I can’t do it.”
Jane shrugged her shoulders, and began to clear away the dinner
things. Baldy helped her. Old Merrymaid mewed to go out, and Jane
opened the door.
“It’s snowing hard,” she said.
The wind drove the flakes across the threshold. Old Merrymaid
danced back into the house, bright-eyed and round as a muff. The
air was freezing.
“It is going to be a dreadful night,” young Baldwin, heavy with
gloom, prophesied. He thought of Edith, in the storm in her buckled
shoes. Had she found shelter? Was she frightened and alone
somewhere in the dark?
He went into the living-room, whence Jane presently followed him.
Jane was knitting a sweater and she worked while Baldy read to her.
He read the full account of Edith Towne’s flight. She had gone away
early in the morning. The maid, taking her breakfast up to her, had
found the room empty. She had left a note for her uncle. But he had
not permitted its publication. He was, they said, wild with anxiety.
“I’ll bet he’s an old tyrant,” was Baldy’s comment.
Frederick Towne’s picture was in the paper. “I like his face,” said
Jane, “and he doesn’t seem so frightfully old.”
“Why should she run away from him, if he wasn’t a tyrant?” he
demanded furiously.
“Well, don’t scold me.” Jane was as vivid as an oriole in the midst of
her orange wools.
She loved color. The living-room was an expression of it. Its furniture
was old-fashioned but not old-fashioned enough to be lovely. Jane
had, however, modified its lack of grace and its dull monotonies by
covers of chintz—tropical birds against black and white stripes—and
there was a lamp of dull blue pottery with a Chinese shade. A fire in
the coal grate, with the glow of the lamp, gave the room a look of
burnished brightness. The kitten, curled up in Jane’s lap, played
cozily with the tawny threads.
“Don’t scold me,” said Jane, “it isn’t my fault.”
“I’m not scolding, but I’m worried to death. And you aren’t any help,
are you?”
She looked at him in astonishment. “I’ve tried to help. I told you to
call up.”
Young Baldwin walked the floor.
“She trusted me.”
“You won’t get anywhere with that,” said Jane with decision. “The
thing to do is to tell Mr. Towne that you have news of her, and that
you’ll give it only under promise that he won’t do anything until he
has talked it over with you.”
“That sounds better,” said young Baldwin; “how did you happen to
think of it?”
“Now and then,” said Jane, “I have ideas.”
Baldy went to the telephone. When he came back his eyes were like
gray moons. “He promised everything, and he’s coming out——”
“Here?”
“Yes, he wouldn’t wait until to-morrow. He’s wild about her——”
“Well, he would be.” Jane mentally surveyed the situation. “Baldy,
I’m going to make some coffee, and have some cheese and
crackers.”
“He may not want them.”
“On a cold night like this, I’ll say he will; anybody would.”
Baldy helped Jane get out the round-bellied silver pot, the pitchers
and tray. The young people had a sense of complacency as they
handled the old silver. Frederick Towne could have nothing of more
distinguished history. It had belonged to their great-grandmother,
Dabney, who was really D’Aubigne, and it had graced an Emperor’s
table. Each piece had a monogram set in an engraved wreath. The
big tray was so heavy that Jane lifted it with difficulty, so Baldy set it
for her on the little mahogany table which they drew up in front of
the fire. There was no wealth now in the Barnes family, but the old
silver spoke of a time when a young hostess as black-haired as Jane
had dispensed lavish hospitality.
Frederick Towne had not expected what he found—the little house
set high on its terraces seemed to give from its golden-lighted
window squares a welcome in the dark. “I shan’t be long, Briggs,” he
said to his chauffeur.
“Very good, sir,” said Briggs, and led the way up the terrace.
Baldy ushered Towne into the living-room, and Frederick, standing
on the threshold, surveyed a coziness which reminded him of
nothing so much as a color illustration in some old English magazine.
There was the coal grate, the table drawn up to the fire, the
twinkling silver on its massive tray, violets in a low vase—and rising
to meet him a slender, glowing child, with a banner of orange wool
behind her.
“Jane,” said young Barnes, “may I present Mr. Towne?” and Jane
held out her hand and said, “This is very good of you.”
He found himself unexpectedly gracious. He was not always
gracious. He had felt that he couldn’t be. A man with money and
position had to shut himself up sometimes in a shell of reserve, lest
he be imposed upon.
But in this warmth and fragrance he expanded. “What a charming
room,” he said, and smiled at her.
Her first view of him confirmed the opinion she formed from his
picture. He was apparently not over forty, a stocky, well-built, ruddy
man, with fair hair that waved crisply, and with clear blue eyes,
lighter, she learned afterward, than Edith’s, but with just a hint of
that burning blue. He had the air of indefinable finish which speaks
of a life spent in the right school and the right college, and the right
clubs, of a background of generations of good blood and good
breeding. He wore evening clothes, and one knew somehow that
dinner never found him without them.
Yet in spite of these evidences of pomp and circumstance, Jane felt
perfectly at ease with him. He was, after all, she reflected, only a
gentleman, and Baldy was that. The only difference lay in their
divergent incomes. So, as the two men talked, she knitted on, with
the outward effect of placidity.
“Do you want me to go?” she had asked them, and Towne had
replied promptly, “Certainly not. There’s nothing we have to say that
you can’t hear.”
So Jane listened with all her ears, and modified the opinion she had
formed of Frederick Towne from his picture and from her first
glimpse of him. He was nice to talk to, but he might be hard to live
with. He had obstinacy and egotism.
“Why Edith should have done it amazes me.”
Jane, naughtily remembering the Admiral’s song from Pinafore which
had been her father’s favorite, found it beating in her head—My
amazement, my surprise, you may learn from the expression of my
eyes——
But no hint of this showed in her manner.
“She was hurt,” she said, “and she wanted to hide.”
“But people seem to think that in some way it is my fault. I don’t like
that. It isn’t fair. We’ve always been the best of friends—more like
brother and sister than niece and uncle.”
“But not like Baldy and me,” said Jane to herself, “not in the least
like Baldy and me.”
“Of course Simms ought to be shot,” Towne told them heatedly.
“He ought to be hanged,” was Baldy’s amendment.
Jane’s needles clicked, but she said nothing. She was dying to tell
these bloodthirsty males what she thought of them. What good
would it do to shoot Delafield Simms? A woman’s hurt pride isn’t to
be healed by the thought of a man’s dead body.
Young Baldwin brought out the bag. “It is one that Delafield gave
her,” Frederick stated, “and I cashed a check for her at the bank the
day before the wedding. I can’t imagine why she took the ring with
her.”
“She probably forgot to take it off; her mind wasn’t on rings.” Jane’s
voice was warm with feeling.
He looked at her with some curiosity. “What was it on?”
“Oh, her heart was broken. Nothing else mattered. Can’t you see?”
He hesitated for a moment before he spoke. “I don’t believe it was
broken. I hardly think she loved him.”
Baldy blazed, “But why should she marry him?”
“Oh, well, it was a good match. A very good match. And Edith’s not
in the least emotional——”
“Really?” said Jane pleasantly.
Baldy was silent. Was Frederick Towne blind to the wonders that lay
behind those eyes of burning blue?
Jane swept them back to the matter of the bag. “We thought you
ought to have it, Mr. Towne, but Baldy had scruples about revealing
anything he knows about Miss Towne’s hiding-place. He feels that
she trusted him.”
“You said you had advertised, Mr. Barnes?”
“Yes.”
“Well, the one thing is to get her home. Tell her that if she calls you
up.” Frederick looked suddenly tired and old.
Baldy, leaning against the mantel, gazed down at him. “It’s hard to
decide what I ought to do. But I feel that I’m right in giving her a
chance first to answer the advertisement.”
Towne’s tone showed a touch of irritation. “Of course you’ll have to
act as you think best.”
And now Jane took things in her own hands. “Mr. Towne, I’m going
to make you a cup of coffee.”
“I shall be very grateful,” he smiled at her. What a charming child
she was! He was soothed and refreshed by the atmosphere they
created. This boy and girl were a friendly pair and he loved his ease.
His own house, since Edith’s departure, had been funereal, and his
friends had been divided in their championship between himself and
Edith. But the young Barneses were so pleasantly responsive with
their lighted-up eyes and their little air of making him one with
them. Edith had always seemed to put him quite definitely on the
shelf. With little Jane and her brother he had a feeling of equality of
age.
“Look here,” he spoke impulsively, “may I tell you all about it? It
would relieve my mind immensely.”
To Jane it was a thrilling moment. Having poured the coffee, she
came out from behind her battlement of silver and sat in her chintz
chair. She did not knit; she was enchanted by the tale that Towne
was telling. She sat very still, her hands folded, the tropical birds
about her. To Frederick she seemed like a bird herself—slim and
lovely, and with a voice that sang!
Towne was not an impressionable man. His years of bachelorhood
had hardened him to feminine arts. But here was no artfulness. Jane
assumed nothing. She was herself. As he talked to her, he became
aware of some stirred emotion. An almost youthful eagerness to
shine as the hero of his tale. If he embroidered the theme, it was for
her benefit. What he told was as he saw it. But what he told was not
the truth, nor even half of it.
 CHAPTER IV
BEAUTY WAITS

Edith Towne had lived with her Uncle Frederick nearly four years
when she became engaged to Delafield Simms. Her mother was
dead, as was her father. Frederick was her father’s only brother, and
had a big house to himself, after his mother’s death. It seemed the
only haven for his niece, so he asked her, and asked also his father’s
cousin, Annabel Towne, to keep house for him, and chaperone Edith.
Annabel was over sixty, and rather indefinite, but she served to play
propriety, and there was nothing else demanded of her in Frederick’s
household of six servants. She was a dried-up and desiccated
person, with fixed ideas of what one owed to society. Frederick’s
mother had been like that, so he did not mind. He rather liked to
think that the woman of his family kept to old ideals. It gave to
things an air of dignity.
Edith, when she came, was different. So different that Frederick was
glad that she had three more years at college before she would
spend the winters with him. The summers were not hard to arrange.
Edith and Annabel adjourned to the Towne cottage on an island in
Maine—and Frederick went up for week-ends and for the month of
August. Edith spent much time out-of-doors with her young friends.
She was rather fond of her Uncle Fred, but he did not loom large on
the horizon of her youthful occupations.
Then came her winter at home, and her consequent engagement to
Delafield Simms. It was because of Uncle Fred that she became
engaged. She simply didn’t want to live with him any more. She felt
that Uncle Fred would be glad to have her go, and the feeling was
mutual. She was an elephant on his hands. Naturally. He was a great
old dear, but he was a Turk. He didn’t know it, of course. But his
ideas of being master of his own house were perfectly archaic.
Cousin Annabel and the servants, and everybody in his office simply
hung on his words, and Edith wouldn’t hang. She came into his
bachelor Paradise like a rather troublesome Eve, and demanded her
share of the universe. He didn’t like it, and there you were.
It was really Uncle Fred who wanted her to marry Delafield Simms.
He talked about it a lot. At first Edith wouldn’t listen. But Delafield
was persistent and patient. He came gradually to be as much of a
part of her everyday life as the meals she ate or the car she drove.
Uncle Fred was always inviting him. He was forever on hand, and
when he wasn’t she missed him.
They felt for each other, she decided, the thing called “love.” It was
not, perhaps, the romance which one found in books. But she had
been taught carefully at college to distrust romance. The emphasis
had been laid on the transient quality of adolescent emotion. One
married for the sake of the race, and one chose, quite logically, with
one’s head instead, as in the old days, with the heart.
So there you had it. Delafield was eligible. He was healthy, had
brains enough, an acceptable code of morals—and was willing to let
her have her own way. If there were moments when Edith wondered
if this program was adequate to wedded bliss, she put the thought
aside. She and Delafield liked each other no end. Why worry?
And really at times Uncle Fred was impossible. His mother had lived
until he was thirty-five, she had adored him, and had passed on to
Cousin Annabel and to the old servants in the house the formula by
which she had made her son happy. Her one fear had been that he
might marry. He was extremely popular, much sought after. But he
had kept his heart at home. His sweetheart, he had often said, was
silver-haired and over sixty. He basked in her approbation; was
soothed and sustained by it.
Then she had died, and Edith had come, and things had been
different.
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