Richmond Palladium (Daily), Volume 34, Number 320, 25 September 1909 — Page 6

An Untiring. Motkr IS

l OR months the event coming had cast its shadow before. But Mrs. Twyman had looked around and over it, had shut her eyes and turned her hack. Break down ? She couldn't break down. There was neither time nor money for it She couldn't. And so, of course, she wouldn't. She wouldn't be allowed to. That the daily getting up was become a tragedy to her, mere movement an effort of conscious will, "had nothirg to do with it The household could not get along without her ; or, if they could, what a dreadful thing to let actually happen! Oh, no, her duty was plain, her order infallible, and consequently., her interpretation also. Eddu- was calling her now in his weak, fretful voice, " Mama ! mama I" "" Yen, it was true that Eddie was fifteen; but he had always been delicate and sensitive. She sympathized tenderly with. him. She felt her own responsibility and special debt to him. His clinging dependence was very . sweet to her. And he was her baby ! Now his whining "Mama! mama!" set vibrating in her chords of pity deeper than she herself analyzed. " Yes; dear, yes, I'm coming." Her voice, low and quiet, soothed and sustained like a steady hand. There was something comforting about her mere personality as she put him together for the day. At the last she stopped him for a final survey. If his tie were crooked, or his hair-parting, some one would make an allusion to his age, and then some one else. She caught him to her, and he answered rapturously. Eddie wasn't afraid of being "mama's boy, even if Howard had repudiated " babying " with skirts. As they went down together, her white skin, that did not color like others, had the clear brilliance of marble. A barely perceptible shadow fell when she perceived Howard already in the dining-room, and, through the window, scornfully forecasting the weather for his prospective walk to the office. The square breadth of shoulder and the something aggressive in the poise of head of this great man-son of hers always stirred in Agnes Twyman both the woman and the mother. At her eager pleasantness he merely turned in silence to his place. And her induced brightness dimmed a little more. Mrs. Twyman was lovely. People said she was the best woman they had ever known. Her voice was not light, it was hushed. Her movements, very quick, were noiseless ; there was no rustle of skirts, no sound of footfall. Her whole personality was subdued, gentle. The cheerful serenity of her childlike face, round, with its clear colorless skin, was habitual. But the great soft dark eyes were humid ; you were never sure whether she was about to smile or cry. Now, as they waited, Mr. Twyman's heavy tread sounded on the stair. Howard sat immersed. Eddie edged toward his mother on his seat. Mrs. Twyman, her very pulse, it seemed, suspended, watched the door for the first sight of the coming face. His footsteps were already in the lower hallway before the fleet tap-tap-tap of Isobel's French heels started after. But the girl was at her father's elbow at the door, and she slipped behind him, unremarked, to her chair, with a little nod to her mother. Agnes' response was fractional and preoccupied. She sat waiting, alert, to catch her husband's ' eye, with a bright look and word ready to flash out at the signal. But Roger Twyman looked at no one. Into the silence and suspense, not unsuggestive of the arena, he entered king of beasts. As he drew out his chair, Mrs. Twyman detected his missing napkin. It was always something for Roger that was wrong. If there was one seed in the preserves he was sure to find it. Now she forestalled even discovery by her swift, silent service. " Oh, mother, let Maggie Howard began. "It's easier to do things myself," she confessed. The errand done, she still loitered by her husband's chair. Roger spread out the paper. She laid a light touch on his shoulder it was as if she put out fine antennse. His coat seemed to creep from under her finger-tips. So, since he did not, she kissed him. She ran back and kissed him again. It was not only assertion. Poor Roger, he let himself be so unhappy ! Roger saw her go out of the corner of his eye. The maid, who had held back the steak to keep it hot, now was slow bringing it Mrs. Twyman kept glancing toward the pantry, toward her husband. His attention called to the matter, he began to drum the table. " Maggie seems to be delayed," she faltered. " If you will just -" He responded to his cue. "If I? If you!" he spluttered like a bad match whose head flies off when you try to strike it " Can't you save me the burden of your end of the business, my dear ? ' Can't you ever learn to consider my time?" For a gripping moment she sat, and no one breathed. Then, " Poor boy ! " softly. " Worried again ! I know." It was as if she laid a cool, soft palm on the fever of his spirit Her gentle dark eyes melted with sympathy and appeal. But that seemed his final irritation. He shook himself; the muscles of his mouth drew up. .".Oh, lord!" Howard, who had been apparently oblivious, choked. "Grace before meat," he commented, nonchalantly. To Agnes's desperate -look around Isobel responded with some amiable idiocy. Isobel hated discomfort worse than anything else. Then oh a deep breath ! Maggie brought in the steak. .Mrs. Twyman, the light quite gone from her face, carved hastily and sent the tenderloin at once to the lord and master. Isobel picked dispiritedly at her portion. Eddie would have nothing but hot cakes, soaked in sirup, which was sweet and washed down by coffee, which required no chewing. Howard, vigorously attacking 4 his end piece, asked pleasantly, "Mother, did father ever do the carving, and send the tenderloin to you?" His father was motionless behind his paper. His mother glanced at him anxiously. One has been . warned of the Englishman when he grows polite, and the Frenchman when he laughs, and the American when he jokes. "Oh, yes, indeed," she assured him now, anxiously, yet with a certain modest pride for both her husband and herself. " But I would rather give it to him, and I have always saved him everything possible." "I see, Howard agreed. Isobel,- frowning, tried to catch his attention? "Too bad, isn't it?" he mused, and cocked a glimmering eye at her. Mr. Twyman cracked his paper together. " At the same instant Agnes was supplying Eddie's plate. 'A:. " Great food to make a man of," his father commented, speaking for the. first time, delicately changing the subject and beginning to attend to his own tender cut, his original hurry apparently forgotten. Mrs. Twyman looked up quickly: so did Eddie looked at his father, at his mother, then, with timorous assurance, hurried on. " But father," Howard answered sweetly, and his voice fell on an abeyant air, "yon must remember that Eddie isn't a man ; Eddie's nothing but a child yet" -. It was so exactly her usual argument and tone, that it took Mr. Twyman a moment to understand, to stiffen, to sense the smile on Howard's lowered face. They were always jumping on Eddie, and rousing something fierce in her. Her baby! Her arms hovered him. " Howard ! " she protested, though even so her touch was velvet. " Eddie will develop. Give him tune."

"Time?" said Howard. "Give him a chance." Really Howard was hard to bear and to understand. Roger was merely unjust, unreasonable; she could discount that But Howard said things that sounded almost true, only they were so twisted and so unscriptural and disrespectful. Isobel, relinquishing wireless methods, cut in, her shoulder seeming to exclude Howard from the group. " Mama, dear, can you fit me immediately after breakfast ? I'll have time then, but afterward " " You will, of course, allow her to rush through your dress for to-night alone," Howard finished gently for her. The girl wavered a moment whether to ignore or turn and rend him. "Of course my mending is all done!" 1 She turned. ' Children ! children ! " The mother's soft voice, uplifted, yet dominated them. " " Isobel 1 " she cautioned, appealed. The children were always quarreling ; and yet Isobel adored her big brother ; and Howard was fond of his sister, and was forever bullying and bribing her into doing things for him. " Son, I'll do it. I don't want Isobel to stay home. She couldn't be of any real use to me ; she doesn't know how ; and I wouldn't want her to. Isobel's time for all that will come soon enough. She'll learn then. She would now, but I love her to have her girlhood. Her pleasures are mine." Her chin

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quivered and her voice. She was so tired and nervous that she couldn't speak without looking and sounding ready to cry. " I shall have time for anything for you, too oh, son, why won't you let me? Why won't you ever let me do anything for you? As if you didn't love me." " Oh lord ! " said Howard suddenly. He had his father's disposition, she thought with a sigh. " What is the matter with you to-day, dear? Are you ill? You are even unusually unhappy." " Unhappy ! " Howard laughed again, but the last glimmer of mirth was gone. " Why don't you call things by their names, mother? I'm desperate. And I'm determined. Mother, you're wearing yourself out, you're worn out, you're suffering, you're ill." " Why, son ! " she breathed warmly. A point of white light flickered into her eyes. " Why, son ! " She put out both hands to him. "I want you to stop, to rest to go away. 111 pay for it I've said so again and again. Mother, will you ? " Her hands relaxed. " My dear boy, you know that's impossible. I've said that again and again. Now, don't think I don't appreciate " "It's not! You think your burdens are laid on you by Providence." His muscles jerked. She saw his face set and square. " It's not impossible. It's the one thing we all need and want But it's the one thing your selfishness cannqt contemplate. You will sacrifice yourself for us if you have to sacrifice us, too ! You will bear burdens if you have to manufacture or steal them. Your idea of the Golden Rule is to do for others what you won't let them do for you. Your idea of Christianity is to suffer. The new word in Christianity is to help others, not to immolate yourself." But to help them that was her object! " There now, I've said it, at last. Of course it would be hard to stop now to pull up half down the coast; but even that would be better than plunging the whole toboggan-load into the pond. You ought to have stopped before you ever began, or at least as soon as you saw where you were going." Stopped what? Agnes wondered helplessly. She felt tangled in a net, a net of live wires. Whatever she did, some one criticized. Whatever trifle went wrong, it was the one thing sure to be noticed, by Howard as much as the others. Things jarred and went amiss for all of her; what would they be like without her? She pushed back her chair and got up. , Her face, too, set and squared, at bay. -,

"My dear boy, this is perfectly useless. The only thing for me is not to listen to any of you." ,,," Yes, and you've stuffed cotton into your ears until you can't hear." "And this is your protection of her!" Isobel cried. "Mama!" Eddie flung himself on her. Staggered, she yet caught him. " Mother's affectionate darling ! " she choked. " Now you've gotten her into a pretty- state ! " his father began to fume. (" Never mind, dear, never mind!" she hastily soothed him.)- "The poor little woman He held out his arms to her. And Agnes ran to them. At the tableau Howard laughed once more. " Love ! goodness ! home 1 " he proclaimed oratorically. "All right, mother, don't expect me at your iuneral, nor St Peter to be hoodwinked into mistaking a suicide for a martyr." He walked out "The boy is only over-solicitous!" his mother palpitated in instant defense. " Howard will understand better some day, poor boy. If only they would see that goodwill is all I need. But people always want to help in their way." It was a delicate little hint but Roger, gazing down at her, as she clung to his arm, observed that, whereas, a moment before, she had looked like a. tallow candle, now she looked as if some one had ju?t put a match to

IT WAS AS IF SHE PUT OCT FINE ANTENNiC

her. His one action was full apology and amends; it was inducement, reward and achievement Her eyes, liquid in pathos and appeal, looked the same about to cry, whether she were grieved or pleased. " What a woman it is ! " he smiled, flicking her cheek lightly, and turning for his coat. Mrs. Twyman, delicately illuminated, ran, fleet and noiseless, up the steps to the sewing-room. Ran, and at the top, breathless and dizzy, remembered that she didn't seem able to do that any more. She leaned against the wall, at one stroke again snuffed out Isobel called from within. "Ready, mama?" "Yes, yes," she answered pleasantly. But her hand shook so that she upset the pin-tray ; she ran the scissors into the girl's neck. " Oh, dear ! " in protest. " There's no need for you to hurry like that-mama, please." "Oh, daughter! I'm so sorry! My dear I " Her mother's voice shook. Isobel made a quick movement of impatience. "Oh, dear, I'd rather not have clothes than get them this way ! Of all unpleasant places to live, anyway ! " " If you would all just fall into line Agnes ven-. tured. " Whose line ? " the girl began to smile. " And if you would begin the pleasantness " Oh, no, after you, my dear Alphonse, after you ! " she laughed, now perfectly good-natured again. Her mother, mastering blood and nerves, went steadily on with her work. And as she worked in silence, and her abstraction and self-oblivion grew, her face settled into a gnawing pathos. When she said, "Do you think that sleeve hangs right?" there was in her voice a note of patience that was tragic. But when she draped the bertha and stepped back her face lighted with generous pleasure. " Oh Isobel ! " The girl turned quickly toward the mirror. "Isobel, it's - going tOj be lovely. You're going to be lovely." Isobel's gratification melted into amusement for them both. " You are lovely," she answered, patting her. " I declare, mama, you are pretty and happy only when one of us is. Well, take it off. You shall have it to play with all day. I must fly. The girls will be waiting. Some one was always waiting for Isobel. And though she must fly, she still took time to wave her hair, to rummage through all her drawers for one particular stock. "Oh, dear, where is h?" And presently her mother had dropped her own work and was helping, getting out her hat, hooking her placket And finally, in a whirl, Isobel was off. And on the edge of the whirl OOFTniGBTLWM

Mrs. Twyman was swept back to her neglected sewing chair. She caught up her work feverishly. It was getting late. How attractive Isobel was, and popular! Her lips smiled with the participation of a delighted spectator. People said she was like her mother, had her mother's pretty ways. Agnes almost blushed at thinking of such a thing. Yet some people did. Oh, the family did! They were all fond of her and of each other. How could she dream such dreadful things of them? Even if Roger did seem to imply that she was a little of a fool. And even Isobel was slighting. Yes, she saw it (As if they were doing her the favors ! Her selfishness !) But it was only a hurt and bewilderment in her mind, only another something 'to bear and trust God about, to deny and conceal. She worked fast, with growing harassment She glanced at the clock and worked faster. The round, colorless face lost the clarity of its whiteness and was shadowed in gray. Oh, dear, that sleeve was in wrong ! Now she would have to hurry! But it wouldn't rip and the machine snarled. Everything went wrong. She couldn't do it She must. Oh! she was frantic, ready to scream and tear. Then, her hands dropped, her body stiffened. She drew two or three deep breaths. V'ith tight lips she sat down again to her work.

The maid came to see about luncheon. " Oh Maggie, never mind. I can't stop. Even Miss Isobel won't be here to-day. You girls get yourselves something. No, don't interrupt me." It was mid-afternoon when she rose, stiff from the tenseness of effort and self-control. She dropped the garment on Isobel's bed without looking at it Now for Howard's mayonnaise. Howard wouldn't eat the "bottled stuffs" nor the "mustard makeshifts." and the maids never had time to make mayonnaise correctly. Yes, she could do it - She wanted to. What else could she do for Howard Howard who would have none of her? . Why, she loved to do everything for them alL Nothing was any sacrifice for her, if only they would be good, and would appreciate, not so much her, she hastened to remind herself, as the Great Example she tried to follow and set To be sure, it didn't seem to be working. But it would. It was bound to. Oh, it would come all right And really, she wasn't so tired now, nor hungry at all. She was getting her second wind. She didn't want to stop. She couldn't stop. She could have ran and laughed. Her heart was fairly tripping. 111? Now, less than ever, did she dare be ill. She was stirring vigorously when Eddie, stopped just inside the front door, complained helplessly to the house, "Mama! mama! " - She jumped to run and answer, but caught dizzily at the back of her chair. " Yes, dear." she managed to make herself heard. " Go on up to my room. I'm coming." . She started to unstrap his books, to find his place, to read the lessons to him, and say them over for him to learn them for him as usual. Lips and cheeks were a brickdust red, her eyes brilliant She noticed the stumbling of her hands and the thickness of her tongue with curious detachment She could not hold her own or Eddie's attention.. "What makes "you so funny?" he asked. "I seem suddenly so sleepy. Perhaps we had better wait After supper dear. Yes let me sleep now." m Hello, what thisf Roger! Was it as late as that? She roosed herself with a supreme effort " I was just going to get up." She started, but nothing moved. "Why. what's the matter? Are yon 31? Now, my dear, if you're ill " " No, no, only tired, napping. Please" "It would seem as if you might keep yourself more

rested and cheerful for our sakes. Napping at suppertime ! " "I sha'n't want any supper. Please don't fuss over me. or bother in any way. Oh, I can't stand anything more. Go, go away, and leave me alone to rest" " Oh, very well, very well ! " He shrugged his shoulders and went As she lay the day dimmed before a spreading shadow. How cold she was! And now she could no longer refuse to hear the labor of her heart Each pulse was a long, slow effort Below the supper-bell rang. Through her open door the light and sound came up to her. Eddie was already in his place; Roger took his at once. " Well, well," impatiently, "where is Isobel?" The hurry of feet and skirts on the stair" I came just as soon as I could." Howard came when he was ready ; in a silence that oppressed the watcher above as much as the noise had jangled. Her mind's eye traveling around took in each member of the group in actual vision following, suddenly, a finger of light a searchlight that pointed to each and moved on; pointed, and in its momentary glare she saw each naked soul saw with horror, repudiation, stunned recognition, Eddie, null, flaccid, not a child but an invertebrate; Isobel, the child undeveloped, unawakened, offering few signs either good or bad for prophecy; Roger, a dried and shriveled kernel within an ossified shell of self ; Howard, a man indeed, not pauperized like the others, but strong, through what warping and embittering antagonism ! She thought curiously of the tiny Crucftxion by Durer, within the narrow compass of which Christ hung uplifted, alone, in the chill gray of desolation. But the finger of light 1 It was pointing, unswerving, at her own empty chair; pointing, yet the chair was m shadow. She made a movement to brush the shadow aside, and discovered that she, herself, cast it Wheeling, she caught the light full in the eyes ; and, blinded, paralyzed, with scenes expressions, phrases, flashing before her lice colored fire, she dropped back into her seat, and was looking down at herself below, as she had looked at the others, at her own naked soul; her soul a single virtue so monstrous it had become a deformity, a parasite preying on herself, her cause, and them; an unconscious hypocrite of renunciation actuated by its own nervous energy and vanity, greedy of unselfishness. She the sacrifice? Why, this soft, dinging, pallid soul of hers was a celestial vampire, sucking the life-blood of those she claimed to love and serve, tapping their virtue in its deep original sense. In that instant of illumination she saw alL Then it went out like a magic-lantern slide. The dual identity telescoped. She was faring on the bed, and she realized everything, even the cold shadow. She felt her blood, like a receding tide, each ware of reaction smaller and feebler than the last But it was not of herself that she thought; not that she had brought herself, so. to death; not that it was' death ; not even that in saving her own soul she had lost it Her whole honest and habituated self concentrated into one point of agony. Yes, she had helpeto make them what they were. She had rained them. That in so doing she had ruined herself did not concern her. either, as an extenuating circumstance. She had ruined them. And she saw it now, too late.

Howard glanced at the empty chair as he Presently he asked, "Where's mother?" " Not coming down to sapper." - " Mother? Not coming down to safper?" " Said she was tired." Howard picked up his glass and set ft " Sent anvthhur us to her ? " " She wanted nothhur. I tell too. bat to be let Howard put his fork in his salad. . Mayonnaise, today. Couldn't she understand ? And too tired to come down to supper! But mother too tired to be at her post? He started up. " Howard, let your mother alone, I say. Yon know it's no use arguing with her. She will have her own way. She'll let no one do anything for her. - Howard! " But Howard was gone. It seemed almost aimultarteouslythat they beard him coming pack down the stairs. There was something ominous in nis silence ana speea. ' " Isobel, fill some hot-water bottles. "Why why. Howard, what -?" mil Krf.tM mm ZrLt Qmekl" He was making for the sideboard. Eddie, utterly limp in his chair, began to whimper. The liquor cupboard was locked Howard wrenched and gouged at it " Oh. nothing." (Jab.) "Don't disturb yourself." (Blow.) "She's only dying." Roger turned and ran op the stairs. " Agnes 1 Agnes 1 Agnes ! " From the bed a taint muscular response. " O my God, Agnes!" - Two hands fell on his shoulders. Howard had not followed, he was there. He wheeled his father and poshed him out "Go, go, go out of the house." He was as quiet and irresisnole as compressed air. Isobel remembered the hot-water bags. She scalded her hand. She filled one so full it burst Her teeth chattered. Her knees quivered. She could hardly get .upstairs. "Too hot Well, wrap them in bath to mis, then. And watch them." He got to the telephone. As she bent over her mother, the girl's physical terror burst and scattered like a babble. Her mind was blank, she could think of nothing; bat, quiet and steady, she could do, now, whatever Howard directed. Out of nothing Agnes was aware of presences. "Why doctor!" " AH right. Mrs. Twyman. Go to sleep." Eons afterward Howard's votce laotaer, u take this now?" "Oh, Howard! you're not sitting op for arc?" "Yes, indeed, and glad tn." It was mornmjr gray. "Mother?" -"Yes, son." She swallowed it "Howard, was guest-room arranged tor your father? And ltd die?" " Never mind, mother, everything is all right wkh aH of us. We're taking care of you now." How kind his voice, sounded; not fretted, now, nor satiric; a passion of sympathy and tenderness. Love her? He adored her! He ached with pity over her, and with rage for her and at her. It was full daylight when her eyes new wide open. Isobel, on a low chair, by the bed, was looking at her.' There were tears in Isobel's eyes. Agnes's ,?TTtr votc Howard stood at the foot, haggard, stern, with the sternness of just such an enormous compassion and just such a burning evangelism as had carried Knox before . Queen Manr or Agnes herself through her lifelong inflexible self-martyrdom. In that moment. Mrs. Twyman recognized her son. Then her eyes fluttered, hur ried. searched. " Roger? " she breathed. "Eddie?" Isobel shifted. Her eyes felL "They " She moistened her lips; her face flashed and strained. Howard took a step toward his mother. Bat on thr instant her look anderstood. Again, for a breath, she' felt the abyss. But Howard had her hand against kit heart Isobeli was on her knees by the bed. She saw these two; she realized what she saw, vhat it meant that she saw. Her last sacrifice had not been wholly in vain. She had oris-; taken the method, not the aim; that she had been, mistaken did not prove the same of her oracle. Grata tude and resolve rose in her face. Too late? No, it was never too late while fife lasted; and there was any faculty left that could perceive and' learn.