CHAPTER IV.

  THE GODDESS AND THE MOB.

  As we descended the stairway and passed groups of students in front ofthe bulletin boards in the hall, Helen said:--

  "I am afraid you shouldn't have called for me. It isn't usual here."

  "We'll introduce the custom. How could I help coming--after yesterday?Helen--"

  "Have you seen Grant's tomb?" she inquired hastily. "It's just beyondthe college buildings, hidden by them. You mustn't miss it, aftercoming so far."

  We had issued on the Boulevard, and a few steps brought us in view ofthe stately white shrine on Claremont Heights. But I looked instead ather brilliant face against the velvety background of black hat andfeather boa.

  The sun's rays, striking across the river, played hide-and-seek in hershimmering hair, warming it to gold and touching the rose of her cheeksto a clear radiance. Her eyes were scintillant with changing, flashinglights.

  "Well?" she challenged at last, half daring, half afraid. "You know meto-day?"

  "You are a sun goddess. Helen, what does it mean?"

  "New York agrees vit' me," Her laugh was irresistible--low and sweet, alaugh that made the glad day brighter. "How not? It is vun fine largecity."

  We laughed together to the memory of _Actinia_.

  "I am a goot organism. T'e bat organisms vish to scratch me; but t'eyare not so fery bat. In time ve may teach t'em gootness."

  "If Darmstetter doesn't think you a perfect organism, he must be hardto satisfy. He's a peculiar organism himself. Has he true loves amongsand stars or jelly fish, or does he confine his affections to seaanemones?"

  "Prof. Darmstetter is a great biologist. It's a shame he has to teach.Don't you think such a man should be free to devote himself to originalwork? He might in England, you know, if he were a fellow of aUniversity. But we're proud of him at Barnard; and the laboratory--oh,it's the most fascinating place!"

  We came slowly down the Boulevard, looking out at the sweep of theHudson, while she talked of her studies and her college mates, trying,I thought, to keep me from other topics.

  I scarcely noticed her words; her voice was in my ears, fresh andmusical. The new grace of her shining head and wondrous, swayingfigure, the beauty and spirit of her carriage, filled my consciousness.A schooner with a deck load of wood drifted with the tide, her sailsflapping; I saw her in a blur. When I turned from the sheen of theriver, the bicyclists whizzing past left streaks of light. A mancutting brush in a vacant lot leaned on his axe to look after us. Thesudden stopping of his "chop, chop"--he too was staring at the visionof beauty before his eyes--brought me out of my revery.

  "Nelly," I said, "your father will expect a letter from me. What shallI say?"

  "Tell him I am studying hard and like the city."

  "But about us--about you and me?"

  "Must we talk of that here--on the street?"

  She spoke almost pleadingly, with the same soft clouding of herloveliness that I had seen the day before?

  "But I must speak," I said. "You were right yesterday, I won't askanything of you until I have made a start; but I must know that youstill love me; that will be enough. I can wait. I won't hurry you. Thatis all, Helen. Everything shall be as you wish; but--you do love me?"

  "Oh, you great tease! Why, I suppose I do; but--so much has happened, Idon't know myself now; you didn't know me when you first saw me here.Why can't you wait and--don't you hope New York vill agree vit' you?"

  She laughed with tantalizing roguery. "You _do_ love me!" I cried. "Andwe shall be so happy with all our dreams come true--happy to betogether and here! If you knew how I have looked forward to coming, andnow--yesterday I thought myself insane, but I wasn't! You are the mostmarvellous--"

  "Am I? Oh, I'm glad! So glad!"

  I was confused, overjoyed at her sudden sparkle; the soft, flashinglight of her was fire and dew. She made visible nature sympathize withher moods. The sky smiled and was pensive with her.

  "But see," she cried with another of her bewildering changes; "we're atColumbia."

  We had left the Boulevard, and were approaching the white-domed library.

  "Look at the inscription," Helen said, as students carrying notebooksbegan to pass us. "'KING'S COLLEGE FOUNDED UNDER GEORGE II.' Doesn'tthat seem old after the State University? Ours, I mean."

  Our inspection was brief. Before the open admiration of the studentsHelen seemed, like a poising creature of air and sunshine, fairly totake wing for flight.

  "Tell me about yourself," she commanded, when we were beyond theflights of terraced steps. "You are really in Judge Baker's office?You--you _won't_ say anything more?"

  "You--darling! You have almost said you love me; do you know that?Well, I'll be considerate. I will work and I will wait and I willbelieve--no, I'll be certain that some day a woman more beautiful thanthe Greeks imagined when they dreamed of goddesses who loved mortal menwill come to me and, because it is true, will quite say 'I love you.'But I may not always be patient; for you do. After all, you are Nelly!"

  I was almost faint with love of her and wonder; I adored her the morefor the earnestness with which she lifted her flushed, smiling,innocent face to say:

  "But tell me about the office, _please_. You wouldn't want me tosay--would you, if I wasn't sure? Isn't the Judge the most delightfulman? So--not pompous, you know; but so good. Don't you like JudgeBaker?"

  "I love you! Oh, yes, the Judge says, 'if we are confronted with anugly duckling we must congratulate the swan.' Were you ever an uglyduckling? I'm sure you love me, Helen."

  "Did he say that? Well, even when I last saw him why that was nearlytwo weeks ago--I--oh, I was an ugly duckling!"

  We laughed like children. In the sunshine of her joy-lit eyes I forgotthe miracle of it, forgot everything except that I had reached New Yorkand Nelly, and that the world was beautiful when she looked upon it.

  We came down from Cathedral Heights; and as we boarded a train on theelevated, eyes peered around newspapers. An old gentleman wiped hisglasses and readjusted them, his lips forming the words, "mostextraordinary," and again, "most extraordinary!" A thin,transparent-looking woman followed the direction of his glance andquerulously touched his elbow. Two slender girls looked and whispered.

  I thought at first that city folks had no manners, but presently beganto wonder that Helen escaped so easily. She had drawn down a scrap of aveil that scarcely obscured her glow and colour and, as the traingathered headway, our neighbours settled in their places almost asunconcernedly as if no marvel of beauty and youth were present. Indeed,most of them had never looked up. The two young girls continued to eyeHelen with envy; and I was conscious of an absurd feeling of resentmentthat they were the only ones. I wanted to get up and cry out: "Don'tyou people know that this car contains a miracle?"

  Why, when Helen lifted to her knee a child that tugged at the skirts ofthe stout German hausfrau in the next seat, the mother vouchsafedhardly a glance.

  "How old are you?" asked Helen.

  "Sechs yahre," was the shy answer.

  "Such a big girl for six!"

  "So grosse! So grosse!"

  The little thing measured her height by touching her forehead.

  "Shump down," admonished the mother stolidly, while Helen bent over thechild, wasting upon her the most wonderful smile of the everlastingyears.

  "It was long ago, wasn't it," Nelly asked, when the child had slid fromher lap, "that Uncle promised to take you into his office?"

  "Yes," I said. "When Father died, the Judge told me that when I hadpractised three years--long enough to admit me to the New Yorkbar--he'd have a place for me. It was because the three years werenearly up, you know, that I dared last June to ask you--"

  "You'd dare anything," she interrupted hastily. "Remember how, when Iwas a Freshman, you raced a theologue down the church aisle one Sundaynight after service, and slammed the door from the outside? 'MissWinship,' you said--I had sat near the door and was already in theentry--'may I see you home?'--"

/>   "The theologue and the congregation didn't get out till you said yes, Iremember! They howled and hammered at the door in most unchristianrage?"

  "I _had_ to say yes; why, I had to walk with you even when wequarrelled; it would have made talk for either of us to be seen alone."

  She breathed a sigh that ended in rippling laughter.

  "You'll have to say yes again."

  But at that she changed the subject, and we talked about her work atBarnard until we left the train at Fourteenth Street, where we met theflood tide of Christmas surging into the shops and piling up againstgaily decked show windows.

  Street hawkers jingled toy harnesses, shouted the prices of brighttruck for tree ornaments, and pushed through the crowd, offering hollyand mistletoe. Circles formed around men exhibiting mechanical turtlesor boxing monkeys. From a furry sledge above a shop door, Santa Clausbowed and gesticulated, shaking the lines above his prancing reindeer.I had never seen such a spectacle.

  "What a jam!" cried Helen, her cheeks flooded with colour. "Come, let'shurry!"

  Indeed, as we threaded our way in and out among the throng, her beautymade an instant impression.

  "There she goes!"

  "Where? Where? I don't see her."

  "There! The tall one, with the veil--walking with that jay!"

  Not only did I hear such comments; I felt them. Yet even here therewere many who did not notice; and again I sensed that odd displeasurethat people could pass without seeing my darling.

  It was a relief to leave the neighbourhood of Sixth Avenue and cross tothe open space of Union Square.

  The east side of the little park was quiet.

  "All right?" I asked.

  "All right."

  Her breath came quickly as if she had been frightened.

  "But see," she said a moment later, "there comes Kitty trundling herbicycle down Madison Avenue. You'd better come in, and be on your bestbehaviour; yesterday Kitty thought we were quarrelling."

  "Sorry I'm wanted only to vindicate--is it your character or mine thatwould stand clearing? And will you tell me----"

  A little old Frenchman, with a wooden leg, who was singing the"Marseillaise" from door to door, approached, holding out his hat.

  "Merci, M'sieu', Madame," he said, carelessly pocketing a nickel; then,as he fairly caught sight of the face that Helen of old might haveenvied, he started back in amazement, slowly whispering:--

  "Pardon! Mon dieu! Une Ange!"

  We left him muttering and staring after us.

  "I'll really have to get a thicker veil," said Helen hastily; "stuffything! I like to breathe and see. At first it was--oh, delightful to belooked at like that--or almost delightful; for if no had one noticed,how was I to be sure that--that New York was agreeing vit' me? But nowthey begin to----"

  "Then New York hasn't always agreed vit' you? Aren't you going to tellme----"

  "Oh, I've been well," she interrupted, "ever since I came. But here'sKitty. Any adventures, Goldilocks?"

  "A minute ago a tandem cuffed my back wheel," said Miss Reid, comingup. "My heart jumped into my mouth and--and I'm nibbling littlescallops out of it right now."

  And then we trooped upstairs together.