Friendship Village Part 37

She stood, her head held up as if she were singing, as Liddy Ember had said of her, her arms tightly folded, her cheeks flus.h.i.+ng with her fear that we would not understand.

"Oh," she said, "you know--you _know_ how I've always wanted nice things. Wanted 'em so it hurt. Not just from likin' 'em, either, but because some way I thought I could _be_ more, _do_ more, live up to my biggest best if I could only get where things was kind of educated an'--gentle. But every time I tried to go, somethin' come up--like it will, to shove you hard down into the place you was. Then I thought--you know 'bout that, I guess--I thought I was goin' to live here in Oldmoxon House, an' hev a life like other women hev. An' when that wasn't to be, I thought mebbe it was because G.o.d see I wasn't fit for it, an' I set to work on myself to make me as good as I knew--an' I worked an' worked, like life was nothin' but me, an' I was nothin' but a cake, to get a good bake on an' die without bein' too much dough to me. An' then all to once I see that couldn't be the only thing He meant. It didn't seem like He could 'a' made me sole in order to save me from h.e.l.l. An' I begun to see He must 'a' made me to help in some great, big hid plan or other of His. An' quick as I knew that an' begun wantin' to help, He begun showin' me when to. That's how I mean what I said about the Bell. Times like Elspie, or 'Leven, or like that, I can hear it just as plain as plain--the Bell, callin' me to help Him."

She looked hard at us, and, "I donno if you know what I'm talkin'

about----" she doubted; but, at our answer,

"Well," she added, "they's somethin' else. It's somethin' almost like what you've got--you two--an' like what Delia an' Abel have got. Lately, I don't _need_ to hear the Bell any more. I know 'bout it without. It's almost like I _am_ the Bell. Don't you see, it's come to be my power, just like love will be your power, if you rilly understand. An'

here--here I know how. I've grown to Friends.h.i.+p, an' here I know what's what. An' if I went away now, where things is gentle an' like in books, I wouldn't know how to be any rill use. I can _be_ the Bell here--here I can have my power. In town I expect I couldn't be anything but just cake again--bakin' myself rill good, or even gettin' frosted; but mebbe not helpin'. An' I couldn't risk that--I couldn't risk it. It looks to me like helpin' is what I'm for."

I think, as she said, Calliope was become the Bell; and at that moment she rang to us the call of sovereign clearness. This was the life that she and Abel followed, and followed before all else, and there lay the hiding of their power. "Just like love will be your power," she had said.

When she had gone before us into the house--that was to have been her house--we two stood looking along the sunny Plank Road toward Daphne Street. And in the light lifting of the bonfire smoke it seemed to me that there moved a spirit--not Daphne, but another; one who walks less in beauty than in service; not our lady of the laurels, but our lady of the thorns.

GROSSET & DUNLAP'S

DRAMATIZED NOVELS

A Few that are Making Theatrical History

MARY JANE'S PA. By Norman Way. Ill.u.s.trated with scenes from the play.

Delightful, irresponsible "Mary Jane's Pa" awakes one morning to find himself famous, and, genius being ill adapted to domestic joys, he wanders from home to work out his own unique destiny. One of the most humorous bits of recent fiction.

CHERUB DEVINE. By Sewell Ford.

"Cherub," a good hearted but not over refined young man is brought in touch with the aristocracy. Of sprightly wit, he is sometimes a merciless a.n.a.lyst, but he proves in the end that manhood counts for more than ancient lineage by winning the love of the fairest girl in the flock.

A WOMAN'S WAY. By Charles Somerville. Ill.u.s.trated with scenes from the play.

A story in which a woman's wit and self-sacrificing love save her husband from the toils of an adventuress, and change an apparently tragic situation into one of delicious comedy.

THE CLIMAX. By George C. Jenks.

With ambition luring her on, a young choir soprano leaves the little village where she was born and the limited audience of St. Judo's to train for the opera in New York. She leaves love behind her and meets love more ardent but not more sincere in her new environment. How she works, how she studies, how she suffers, are vividly portrayed.

A FOOL THERE WAS. By Porter Emerson Browne. Ill.u.s.trated by Edmund Magrath and W. W. Fawcett.

A relentless portrayal of the career of a man who comes under the influence of a beautiful but evil woman; how she lures him on and on, how he struggles, falls and rises, only to fall again into her net, make a story of unflinching realism.

THE SQUAW MAN. By Julie Opp Faversham and Edwin Milton Royle.

Ill.u.s.trated with scenes from the play.

A glowing story, rapid in action, bright in dialogue with a fine courageous hero and a beautiful English heroine.

THE GIRL IN WAITING. By Archibald Eyre. Ill.u.s.trated with scenes from the play.

A droll little comedy of misunderstandings, told with a light touch, a venturesome spirit and an eye for human oddities.

THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL. By Baroness Orczy. Ill.u.s.trated with scenes from the play.

A realistic story of the days of the French Revolution, abounding in dramatic incident, with a young English soldier of fortune, daring, mysterious as the hero.

Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York