Chapter. I

A humming-bird dipped through the air and lit upon the palm-tree justrnbelow the open window; the long drowsy call of a crowing cock came fromrnafar off; the sun spun down in the subdued splendor of a hazy veil. Itrnwas a dustless, hence an anomalous, summer’s afternoon in San Francisco.rnrnRuth Levice sat near the window, lazily rocking, her long lithe armsrnclasped about her knees, her face a dream of the day. The seasons singlernout their favorite moods: a violet of spring-time woos one, a dusky Junernrose another; to-day the soft, languorous air had, unconsciously to her,rncharmed the girl’s waking dream.rnrnSo removed was she in spirit from her surroundings that she heard withrnan obvious start a knock at the door. The knock was immediately followedrnby a smiling, plump young woman, sparkling of eye, rosy of cheek, andrnglistening with jewels and silk.rnrn“Here you are, Ruth,” she exclaimed, kissing her heartily; whereuponrnshe sank into a chair, and threw back her bonnet-strings with an air ofrnrelief. “I came up here at once when the maid said your mother was out.rnWhere is she?”rnrn“Out calling. You look heated, Jennie; let me fan you.”rnrn“Thanks. How refreshing! Sandal-wood, is it not? Where is your father?”rnrn“He is writing in the library. Do you wish to see him?”rnrn“Oh, no, no! I must see you alone. I am so glad Aunt Esther is out. Whyrnaren’t you with her, Ruth? You should not let your mother go off alone.”rnrnThe young girl laughed in merry surprise.rnrn“Why, Jennie, you forgot that Mamma has been used all her life to goingrnout without me; it is only within the last few months that I have beenrnher companion.”rnrn“I know,” replied her visitor, leaning back with a grim expression ofrndisapproval, “and I think it the queerest arrangement I ever heardrnof. The idea of a father having the sole care of a daughter up to herrntwenty-first birthday, and then delivering her, like a piece of jointrnproperty, over to her mother! Oh, I know that according to their lightsrnit did not seem absurd, but the very idea of it is contrary to nature.rnOf course we all know that your father was peculiarly fitted tornundertake your training, and in this way your mother could more easilyrnindulge her love of society; but as it is, no wonder she is as jealousrnof your success in her realm as your father was in his; no wonder shernoverdoes things to make up for lost time. How do you like it, Ruth?”rnrn“What?” softly inquired her cousin, slowly waving the dainty fan, whilerna smile lighted up the gravity of her face at this onslaught.rnrn“Going out continually night after night.”rnrn“Mamma likes it.”rnrn“Cela va sans dire. But, Ruth,--stop fanning a minute, please,--I wantrnto know, candidly and seriously, would you mind giving it up?”rnrn“Candidly and seriously, I would do so to-day forever.”rnrn“Ye-es; your father’s daughter,” said Mrs. Lewis, speaking more slowly,rnher bright eyes noting the perfect repose of the young girl’s person;“and yet you are having some quiet little conquests,--the golden applesrnof your mother’s Utopia. But to come to the point, do you realize thatrnyour mother is very ill?”rnrn“Ill--my mother?” The sudden look of consternation that scattered thernsoft tranquillity of her face must have fully repaid Mrs. Lewis if shernwas aiming at a sensation.rnrn“There, sit down. Don’t be alarmed; you know she is out and apparentlyrnwell.”rnrn“What do you mean?”rnrn“I mean that Aunt Esther is nervous and hysterical. The other day at ourrnhouse she had such an attack of hysteria that I was obliged to call inrna neighboring doctor. She begged us not to mention it to either ofrnyou, and then insisted on attending a meeting of some sort. However, Irnthought it over and decided to let you know, as I consider it serious. Irnwas afraid to alarm Uncle, so I thought of telling you.”rnrn“Thank you, Jennie; I shall speak to Father about it.” The young girl’srntone was quite unagitated; but two pink spots on her usually colorlessrncheeks betrayed her emotion.rnrn“That is right, dear. I hope you will forgive me if I seem meddlesome,rnbut Jo and I have noticed it for some time; and your father, by allowingrnthis continual gayety, seems to have overlooked what we find so sadlyrnapparent. Of course you have an engagement for to-night?”rnrn“Yes; we are going to a reception at the Merrills’.”rnrn“Merrill? Christians?” was the sharp reply.rnrn“The name speaks for itself.”rnrn“What does possess your parents to mix so much with Christians?”rnrn“Fellow-feeling, I suppose. We all dance and talk alike; and as we dornnot hold services at receptions, wherein lies the difference?”rnrn“There is a difference; and the Christians know it as well as we Jewishrnpeople. Not only do they know it, but they show it in countless ways;rnand the difference, they think, is all to their credit. For my part, Irnalways feel as if they looked down on us, and I should like to prove tornthem how we differ on that point. I have enough courage to let them knowrnI consider myself as good as the best of them.”rnrn“Is that why you wear diamonds and silk on the street, Jennie?” askedrnRuth, her serious tones implying no impudence, but carrying a refinedrnreproach.rnrn“Hardly. I wear them because I have them and like them. I see no harm inrnwearing what is becoming.”rnrn“But don’t you think they look aggressive on the street? They attractrnattention; and one hates to be conspicuous. I think they are only inrnplace at a gathering of friends of one’s own social standing, where theyrndo not proclaim one’s moneyed value.”rnrn“Perhaps,” replied Mrs. Lewis, her rosy face a little rosier thanrnbefore. “I suppose you mean to say it is vulgar; well, maybe so. But Irnscarcely think a little outward show of riches should make others feelrnthey are better because they do not care to make a display. Besides, tornbe less personal, I don’t think any Christian would care to put himselfrnout to meet a Jew of any description.”rnrn“Don’t you think it would depend a great deal both on Jew and Christian?rnI always have been led to believe that every broad-minded man ofrnwhatever sect will recognize and honor the same quality in any otherrnman. And why should I not move on an equality with my Christian friends?rnWe have had the same schooling, speak the same language, read the samernbooks, are surrounded by the same elements of home refinement. Probablyrnif they had not been congenial, my father would long ago have ceased tornassociate with them. I think the secret of it all is in the fact thatrnit never occurred to us that the most fastidious could think we werernanything but the most fastidious; and so we always met any one werndesired to meet on a level footing. I have a great many pleasant friendsrnin the court of your Philistines.”rnrn“Possibly. But not having been brought up by your father, I thinkrndifferently, and perhaps am different. Their ways are not my ways; andrnwhat good can you expect from such association?”rnrn“Why, pleasant companionship. What wouldst thou more?”rnrn“I? Not even that. But tell me, can’t you dissuade Aunt Esther fromrngoing to-night? Tell your father, and let him judge if you had betterrnnot.”rnrn“I really think Mamma would not care to go, for she said as much tornFather; but, averse as he generally is to going out, he insists on ourrngoing to-night, and, what is more, intends to accompany us, althoughrnLouis is going also. But if you think Mamma is seriously run down, Irnshall tell him immediately, and--”rnrnA blithe voice at the door interrupted her, calling:rnrn“Open the door, Ruth; my hands are full.”rnrnShe rose hastily, and with a signal of silence to her loquacious cousin,rnopened the door for her mother.rnrn“Ah, Jennie, how are your, dear? But let us inspect this box which Norarnhas just handed me, before we consider you;” and Mrs. Levice softlyrndeposited a huge box upon Ruth’s lace-enveloped bed.rnrnShe was still bonneted and gloved, and with a slight flush in her clearrnolive cheek she looked like anything but a subject for fears. From therncrown of her dainty bonnet to the point of her boot she was the picturernof exquisite refinement; tall, beautifully formed, carrying her headrnlike a queen, gowned in perfect, quiet elegance, she appeared more likernRuth’s older sister than her mother.rnrn“Ruth’s gown for this evening,” she announced, deftly unfolding thernwrappings.rnrn“Yellow!” exclaimed Mrs. Lewis, in surprise.rnrn“Corn-color,” corrected Mrs. Levice, playfully; “how do you think itrnwill suit my girlie?” She continued, shaking out the clinging silkenrncrepe.rnrn“Charmingly; but I thought Ruth objected to anything but white.”rnrn“So she does; she thinks white keeps her unnoticed among the rest. Thisrntime, however, my will overrode hers. Eh, Daughter?”rnrnThe girl made a low courtesy.rnrn“I am only lady-in-waiting to your Majesty, O Queen,” she laughed. Shernhad hardly glanced at the gown, being engaged in a silent scrutiny ofrnher mother’s face.rnrn“And how is my prime minister this afternoon?” Mrs. Levice was drawingrnoff her gloves, and Ruth’s look of pained discovery passed unnoticed.rnrn“I have not been down since luncheon,” she replied.rnrn“What! Then go down at once and bring him up. I must see that he getsrnout of his studiousness and is clothed in festive mind for this evening.rnCome to my sitting-room, Jennie, and we can have a comfortable chat.”rnrnLeft to herself, Ruth hesitated before going to her father with herrnill-boding tidings. None knew better than she of the great, silentrnlove that bound her parents. As a quiet, observant child, she had oftenrnquestioned wherein could be any sympathy between her father, almost old,rnstudious, and reserved, and her beautiful, worldly young mother. Butrnas she matured, she became conscious that because of this apparentrndisparity it would have been still stranger had Mrs. Levice not lovedrnhim with a feeling verging nearer humble adoration than any lowerrnpassion. It seemed almost a mockery for her to have to tell him he hadrnbeen negligent,--not only a mockery, but a cruelty. However, it hadrnto be done, and she was the only one to do it. Having come to thisrnconclusion, she ran quickly downstairs, and softly, without knocking,rnopened the library door.rnrnShe entered so quietly that Mr. Levice, reading by the window, didrnnot glance from his book. She stood a moment regarding the smallrnthoughtful-faced, white-haired man.rnrnIf one were to judge but by results, Jules Levice would be accounted arnfortunate man. Nearing the allotted threescore and ten, blessed withrna loving, beloved wife and this one idolized ewe-lamb, surrounded byrnluxury, in good health, honored, and honorable,--trouble and travailrnseemed to have passed him by. But this scene of human happiness was thernresult of intelligent and unremitting effort. A high state of earthlyrnbeatitude has seldom been attained without great labor of mind or bodyrnby ourselves or those akin to us. Jules Levice had been thrown on thernworld when a boy of twelve. He resolved to become happy. Many of us dornlikewise; but we overlook the fact that we are provided with feet, notrnwings, and cannot fly to the goal. His dream of happiness was ambitious;rnit soared beyond contentment. Not being a lily of the field, he knewrnthat he must toil; any honest work was acceptable to him. He wasrnpossessed of a fine mind; he cultivated it. He had a keen observation;rnhe became a student of his fellow-men; and being strong and untiring, hernbecame rich. This was but the nucleus of his ambitions, and it came tornhim late in life, but not too late for him to build round it his happyrnhome, and to surround himself with the luxuries of leisure for attainingrnthe pinnacle of wide information that he had always craved. His wasrnmerely the prosperity of an intellectual, self-made man whose time forrnrest had come.rnrnRuth seated herself on a low stool that she drew up before him, and laidrnher hand upon his.rnrn“You, darling?” He spoke in a full, musical voice with a marked Frenchrnaccent.rnrn“Can you spare me a few minutes, Father?”rnrn“I am all ears;” he shut the book, and his hand closed about hers.rnrn“Jennie was here just now.”rnrn“And did not come in to see me?”rnrn“She had something to tell me.”rnrn“A secret?”rnrn“Yes; something I must repeat to you.”rnrn“Yes?”rnrn“Father--Jennie thinks--she has reason to know that--dear, do you thinkrnMother is perfectly well?”rnrn“No, my child; I know she is not.”rnrnThis quiet assurance was staggering.rnrn“And you allow her to go on in this way without calling in a physician?” A wave of indignant color suffused her cheeks.rnrn“Yes.”rnrn“But--but--why?” She became a little confused under his calm gaze,rnfeeling on the instant that she had implied an accusation unjustly.rnrn“Because, Ruth, I have become convinced of it only within the past week.rnYour mother knows it herself, and is trying to hide it from me.”rnrn“Did she admit it?”rnrn“I have not spoken of it to her; she is very excitable, and as shernwishes to conceal it, I do not care to annoy her by telling her of myrndiscovery.”rnrn“But isn’t it wrong--unwise--to allow her to dissipate so much?”rnrn“I have managed within the past week to keep you as quiet as possible.”rnrn“But to-night--forgive me, Father--you insist on our going to thisrnreception.”rnrn“Yes, my sweet confessor; but I have a good reason,--one not to bernspoken of.”rnrn“‘Those who trust us educate us,’” she pleaded in wistful earnestness.rnrn“Then your education is complete. Well, I knew your mother would resistrnseeing any physician, for fear of his measures going contrary to herrndesires; so I have planned for her to meet to-night a certain doctorrnwhom I would trust professionally with my wife’s life, and on whom Irncan rely for the necessary tact to hide the professional object of theirrnmeeting. What do you think of my way, dear?”rnrnFor answer she stooped and kissed his hand.rnrn“May I know his name?” she asked after a pause.rnrn“His name is Kemp,--Dr. Herbert Kemp.”rnrn“Why, he lives a few blocks from here; I have seen his sign. Is he anrnold physician?”rnrn“I should judge him to be between thirty-five and forty. Not oldrncertainly, but one with the highest reputation for skill. Personally hernis a man of great dignity, inspiring confidence in every one.”rnrn“Where did you meet him?”rnrn“In the hospitals,” said her father quickly. “But I will introduce himrnto you to-night. Don’t lose your head when you talk to him.”rnrn“Why should I?”rnrn“Because he is a magnificent fellow; and I wish my daughter to hold herrnown before a man whom I admire so heartily.”rnrn“Why, this is the first time you have ever given me worldly advice,” shernlaughed.rnrn“Only a friendly hint,” he answered, rising and putting his book in itsrnplace with the precision of a spinster.