THE STEPPING-STONE.

Oamaru Mail, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 10504, 12 July 1910, Page 6

THE STEPPING-STONE.

(By Louise Kennedy Mabie.) .Mrs Buchanan Jones, having failed, .liter years of unrecognised effort, to land herself in the saddle of her social ambition, looked to pretty Sylvia, now nineteen, as-a stepping-stone. She <lid not acknowledge the fact to Sylvia. She hardly acknowledged it to herself; but subconsciously she planned to mount and soar through Sylvia. A pliable younger sister, of Sylvia's iir.auty, who had grown up in the right school, and who had been allowed friends only in the right set, could do much for the person who controlled her so absolutely that she decided the very curve of the girl's finger-nails. Sylvia's debut safely made, with sufficient advertisement of the right sort in the newspapers and a quartette of very fashionable buds "assisting," Mrs liuchauan .Jones followed up her sortie, with the second move in her battle plan —a dinner.

It was to be a very important dinner. Six guests were aiiked to fill chairs; the seventh guest was the occasion of . the dinner. In fact, to , Mrs •Jones, the seventh guest, Winthrop Everard Calvert, was the dinner. Mis acceptance of her invitation flushed her with delight, and changed her florist's order from chrysanthemums to baskets of violets. She talked Winthrop Everard Calvert to Buchanan Jones whenever she could corner that elusive gentleman, until he was simply' forced into a business trip to Chicago. She wrote so glowingly of Calvert to her dearest friend in the West that that, lady, knowing as little of social gradations in New York as she did of the mound-builders, wondered if Cornelia did not require a stronger hand than that belonging to Buchanan Jones, and wrote to her a letter upon the evils' of overlooking a husband. In fact, Mrs Jones lived and breathed in the coining of Calvert for two weeks. She was no fool, however. She did not mention him —save casually—to Sylvia. She suspected him of rather admiring Sylvia; and to be even mildly admired by Winthrop Everard Calvert establisted a girl and her entire family, handsome or otherwise —even to the extent to which Mr Jones was otherwise —-in the very heart of those dull and ■sacred circles toward which the soul of Mrs- Jones panted. It was when she was completely dressed for her dinner, aild was just ion the way to give a last glance to Sylvia, that she was -met in the corridor by Yance with his announcement. Vance was a bit less immovable than usual. There was someone in the drawingroom. It was a —er —gentleman. No, -he had no card. He had been informed that madam was out. It had no effect. He had remarked that he was in no hurry, and would wait. He was waiting now, in the largest armchair, with ibis hat on, holding a bag made of paper. Vance respectfully advised madam to see the man herself—which madam did. It took a good deal to move Mrs Buchanan Jones to tears; but when she finally reached Sylvia's room and ■ sank into a chair, she wept frankly into its pink silk back. "Oh, Sylvia," she cried,. "I'm the most unlucky woman : in the world! Why did he come to-night—to-night ,of all times? Why couldn't he have wait-

Ed a day? Why did'ut he miss his train ? Why did he have to come at all?" Sylvia-, slender and beautiful in white and silver, turned in amazement. "Why, Cornelia," she said, "what is it—oh, what is it? Something wrong about the dinner? Bother the old dinner! What's a dinner? It isn't worth crying about." Mrs Buchanan Jones sat up straight. "Bother the dinner," she echoed, "when I've thought of nothing else for two weeks!" Hero she stood up. "Sylvia Deering," she said dramatically, "guess who is in the drawing-room this minute —sitting in the Empire chair with his hat on? Guess who!" Her voice rose to a shrill note, but she was too much wrought up to wait for an answer. "Uncle Ethan!" she cried. "Cjncle Ethan Evans!" "Uncle Ethan!" said Sylvia, and then her bored little face brightened. ".Not dear Uncle Ethan actually in New York? Why, bless'his heart, he's come to see me! The dear old innocent! His last letter said he might come this winter. Montana was all right for clothes, he wrote, but he hankered for some real, shiny, New York shpes.' He will want me to shop with him. I'll go down at once —" Slip had already started when Mrs .1 ones found her voice, and in finding it. arrested Sylvia in the doorway. "Come back into this room," she said harshly, "and shut the door!" Sylvia, wonicring, obeyed.

"Are vou absolutely crazv ?" went 011 -M rs Buchanan Jones. "We can't have this old man hero to-night. We can't have- him here at all. Why, he's a minor—a common, horrid, ratty- looking old individual that I'd be ashamed to be seen bowing to on the street!" "Cornelia, how can you?" broke in Sylvia. "How can I?" cried Mrs Jones, carried beyond herself in the torrent of her excitement. "When I've worked and slaved and pulled wires to get to the point where I now am; when I've just got my foot over the threshold, I'm not going to be turned back and have the door shut in my face for the sake of an old man we met one summer in. Montana, who is 110 relation to us and has 110 claim'upon 11s." "He was a good friend to us," burst out-Sylvia. "You cannot possibly have forgotten—" "There are things one has to forget to get along in this world," interrupted Mrs Jones. "I can't afford, at this sage of affairs, to be seen owning any such friends. I'm going down now to send him away." , - "Copielia!" cried Sylvia, her eyes blazing. ."Yon can't! You won't! Yon shall not!" "I shall!" said Mrs Buchanan Jones. "Imagine any of the guests—-just imagine Wintlirop Calvert walking into the drawing-room and finding Uncle l4tlian Evans!' Mr Calvert," intoned Mrs. Jones, still carried beyond herself, "whose family dates back to the Restoration, and who is the most exclusive man in New York!" "Oh, rubbish!" said Sylvia. "Mr Calvert"—with scorn —"in my opinion, in an exclusive mummy. I sat next him the other night, " and he didn't speak from soup to dessert. He-only looked at me out of the corner of his exclusive eye, and I felt like -a germ under a microscope. He made me wild," cried Sylvia, roused on her own account, "and I'd like to flaunt Uncle Ethan in his face. I'm utterly tired of this society fetish. I love Uncle Ethan, and he's come to see me, He's my friend : and if he's sent away, I warn you, Cornelia, fairly, that I will not ■stand it!"

Mrs Jones, considerably taken aback, opened her mouth, and then thought better of it. She sat down slowly. Syhia, roused to active conflict, was some one entirely new. Like all bullies, Mrs Jones understood force alone, and -did not know the meaning of compromise. She was secretly alarmed at Sylvia's attitude, *but she did not show it. She adjusted a hairpin and rose. "I am going to my- room, my dear." she said crisply, "to calm down and to get some powder. I'm a sight, and I know it. I'll give you ten minutes with Uncle Ethan. In that time you can patch up an explanation and get rid of him gently. I do not wish to seem harsh or unkind; but I am a great deal older than you, and understand life a great deal better, and I draw the line —in New York—at Uncle Ethan Evans. lii Montana, of course, 110 amused you; here he is absolutely impossible."-' "May I see him after to-night?" asked Sylvia.

"Certainly not," said Mrs Jones, true to her method. "I'll give Vance orders ■should he come again. It's a concession to let you see him at all, and perhaps even that is unwise." "I will go down," said Sylvia quietly. "It may be unpleasant for you," said Mrs -Jones, "if you like hiiri.'l think I'd hotter go—•'' - "Not for the world!" interposed Sylvia. "I will go down." Mrs Jones, blind to the unwonted color in Sylvia's cheeks and the unwonted sparkle in her eyes, .and'alive only'to the girl's return to her usual quiet acceptance of orders) departed in search ol' her maid. Sylvia, her chin in the air, went down to the <innvin,rroonr. ° .. ' '' 11. . < •' ' . Evans, still occupying the largest chair, and .wearing a' ebonskin overCoat, ■ was yawning wearily as" Sylvia s.topped in the doonvuv; but when he Saw her, delight. radiated from every inch of him. - ■

"Well, well, well!" he began, beaming. "If she ain't prettier'n ever—prettier'n a pigeon. Well, well, well!"

"Dear Uncle Ethan," cried Sylvia, shaking both his hands, "take off your hat, for sake. Good gracious, how warm you must be! How glad I am to" see "you"— how glaa'T'am T* "Why, ' it's like a breath of old times, free times, Western times! Do you remember that gray pony of yours I used to ride—■" "Slioh—that little skfite!" remarked Mr Evans, beaming redly, and still shaking hands. "Skate —nothing of the sort!" flashed S.vivia. "The finest little creature in the State! And you've come to New York to see me, you dear old thing! Have you bought your shoes yet?" ."No —going to buy 'em to-morrow, and wear 'em out of the store," continued Mr Evans, "if they kill me. Pretty good suit I've got Oil," he added, with a glance of careless .pride. "Think so?" ' "Oh, so good!" gurgled Sylvia. "Such a nice satin stripe to it! Where dUI you ever find such a satin stripe, Uncle Ethan?"

"Town of Puller Springs, out in old Aloitany—fellow's opened tip a cloth-ing-store—said it was the only stripe just that width west of the Mississippi. I clfdh't quite believe that," said Mr 10vans, "but I bought it. Where shall I get the shoes? Haven't Been here in twenty years." 7 •'? "Oh, we : will go to-morrow," laughed Sylvia, "if I can manage it. What on earth is that?" She pointed a slender forefinger at a bag made of brown paper, which rested 011 t lie floor beside the Empire chair. "Oil, that?" said Mr Evans, looking at the ceiling in an embarrassed manner. ' "Oil, • slioli! Just a little present for you, Sylvia. I stopped oil my way from the hotel, and gathered Hp some little traps. Girls always like little traps! You can open the package fight how, if you want to.";' Sylvia, diving into the paper bag, brought forth a small pink carnation' upon a fearfully long stem, a bag of horehound drops, and three oranges. Mr Evans stood bv, wiping liis forehead with a large handkerchief and deprecating her thanks. It was at this juncture that Vance, I- with an immovable eye glued to Mr Evans in liis copnskiii coat, 'announced

Mr Wintlirop Calvert. Sylvia jumped up and dropped h'cr organges, wliioli rolled. Uncle Ethan found one beneath the Empire chair. Vance, resolving meanwhile to give notice, pursued another'into tlic hall. Mr Calvert, emerging from a dark and distant corner as unfliirrWcl as iisual,' gravely handed the third to Sylvia, who laughed like a child. ' Mr Calvert took in Sylvia discreetly, and then turned slowly to Mr Evans. "Mr Calvert," said' -Sylvia l , ; "this.'is Mr Ethan Evans, of Montana, a..very dear friend of mine, recently arrived in New. York. He was kind enough to bring me some presents—-" » "Littletraps," "murmured Uncle Ethan: "Didn't amount to a hill of beans." "One of which you rescued for me. Mr Calvert, dear Uncle Ethan,, has come here to dine, and it's going t'o be the stiff est, formalest, deadliest dinner that Cornelia can concoct—which is the sort of dinner," continued Sylvia, "that suits Mr Calvert down o the ground." V : . Calvert glanced at Sylvia", 1 out of the corner of his eye, and then shook hands with Mr Evans. "What might your first/ name be, youiig ' man?" inquired Mr Evans" cheerfully. "One of my names is Wintlirop," said Calvert, as cheerfully, ''and I have several others; equally long; hut my friends—my real friends—call me Bud." "Well, I'll call you Bud," said Mr Evans, "for I like you. Say, I've got an idea! Let's all three make, trackslet's get to cover before, the storm bursts. I—ain't a going to sit through no French dinner. Lord, you'd ought to have seen Cornelia in her warpaint! I'm hungry," said Mr Evans, "and I want my milk toast." "Milk toast!" ejaculated Sylvia and Calvert in one breath.

"Never eat anything else for supper, year in, year out. when I can get it," said Mr Evans. "Let's all three make a break." Sylvia and Calvert turned toward each other involuntarily. "I cannot imagine anything that would give me mo.re pleasure," said Calvert. Sylvia stood for a moment withoutspeaking. She glanced from Calvert to Uncle. Ethan, and at the sight of his kind, red face, and the Knowledge" of his kind heart and deep affection for herself, the smouldering revolt within her burst into flame. Not for any command of Cornelia's, not for any ridicule of fashionable acquaintances, not for the world, could she hurt Uncle Ethan. The power was not in her. And with the thought came decision. "Mr Calvert cannot go," said Sylvia.

"He is too important here. Besides, ho wouldn't go if he could," she added. "He will sit through his dinner as he has through others"—a wicked gleam in her eye—"dumb with dignity, supporting his family name. But you aiid I. Uncle Ethan, are not important. I'm a chit of a girl. The rest are all Cornelia's friends, invited with a view to solidity."

"That cuts me out," put in Calvert quickly. > "Social solidity,"- swept oil Sylvia.. "Uncle Ethan and I won't ber'missed, regarded in that light. He and I will —make tracks."

"You don't really mean it?" said Calvert eagerly. ] "I do mean it, and I'm going," announced Sylvia with her cheeks glowling. "I'm on a tear to-night* I'm wound up. After to-niglit I'll settle down again and be as conventional as a primrose, and as uncommunicative as—as you, Mr Calvert; but to-night I'm -Western; I'm free. Uncle Ethan has inoculated me. You have spurred me on —" -- "How?" demanded Calvert. "By your unspoken criticisms, by jyour tone, by your .mere existence! Heaven help me if I meet Cornela on the stairs, but I must get a cloak. Heaven help me when I get home, but I think I can weather it. By the iway," she turned in the doorway—"do teli Vance to phone for a taxicab. I won't be three minutes!"; "Billy for SylviS!" ejafculated Mr Evans. "She's got grit, I can tell you! "Say, Bud," he added, wiping his face, "you tackle that Pooh-bah. He's got me paralysed!" 111. It was a near thing, but they managed it. As Mrs Jones started majestically down to her drawing-room, the outer door closed quietly. ~Three figures stole softly down the steps, and two entered the waiting cab. The third lingered on the pavement. 1 "Break it to Cornelia for me," came, a voioe from the cab. "Say you iike .unconventional people; Try to say-it heartily." % . -' "But I do," answered from the pavement; "that is, some unconventional people." "Say it to Cornelia just like that," suggested Sylvia, "and 6hW won't blink at me afterwards. For some reason, she • thinks a lot' of your." opinion.. I feel like a conspirator, aiid a caitiff, but -I couldn't desert Uncle 'Ethan, could I? We are going to see 'The Three Mice.'" ; .

"No, are you " said Calvert. "Better come along, Bud,' rumbled Mr Evans, wholly unconscious of his iniquity. • ■. ■".-'■ "Mr Calvert is going in'and we are going on," said Sylvia. "He will catcli his death of cold. Tell ;the man to drive to Tulkinghorn. I thiink we can get milk toast there. And thank you, thank you, thanks you—you've been so kind. Good-bye !" <•--■ A slender hand was extended to Calvert, who still lingered upon the pavement. But even this was. not the last of Sylvia, for before the cab had rolled beyond the next house, she. stopped it.. "Oh, Mr Calvert!" she called.back. "Hide the oranges from Cornelia. I forgot them." "Will it be necessary to eat them?" inquired Calvert. "Not at all. I haven't, given them to you," answered Sylvia. . "Merely prestidigitate them. Now; go in, for pity's sake, or you'll sneeze. Goodbye—really good-bye this time. Goodbye—Bud." They were gone, and Calvert walked up the steps very slowly. He was beginning to understand, with increasing clearness, just why he had been willing .to arrive so exceedingly early for Mrs Jones' dinner.

IV. It was Mr Evans who first spied him waiting for them in the lobby of the theatre —Mr Evans, still chuckling over the final antics of "The Three Mice," still' wearing his coonskin overcoat, and .wiping his forehead, with pretty Sylvia jutdisma.yed.. upoa.Jiis_aEmw,<~-*---« - "The one in pink now," Mr Evans was saying. "She was a regular human pinwheel though, warn't she, and not a bit dizzy when she stopped, right side tip! She'd just- lift- the roof off ,11 Puller Springs. Lordee, but it's warm in this town. Lordee —why, if there ain't Bud!" Sylvia clasped his arm involuntarily ' and stood on tiptoe. Across the lobby stood . Calvert, inscrutable as usual, eyeing the crowd keenly as it surged past liim. "Hey, Bud!" shouted Mr. Evans, and waved liis hat. "Oh, Uncle Ethan—d6n't;" whispered Sylvia. ■ "He may not be waiting for ., ■; . "Biid, vi'ho yoit waiting for?" inguired -Mr Evans bluntly- sis Calvert joined .ftEem. vThis.: party .or some other?" . . 'This' party, of course," said Calvert. "Why?" ' "Slioh!" Sylvia had- her doubts-. 1 didn't," replied Mr Evans drily. . ' "I suggested to Mrs Jones," : said Calvert, turning to Sylvia, "during a talk T;had with her, that I should ipeet you at'the theatre. She permitted'me. She -'even consented to some suppferat . Vaurian's. Don't be anxious;_ Blip .is licit angry." , "Supper—at Vaurian's?" echoed Sylvia, wide-eyed. "Cornelia agreed. Cornelia ?" • Calvert smiled.

"She agreed. She is to meet us there, as soon as- lie? last, guest lias been sped"upon his,way." ' _ "But —Uncle Etlian," / 'said Sylvia, her hand stilly upon Mr E\'an's arm, an unspoken question in her eyes.

Calvert nodded. "Certainly Mr Evans," lie' answered. "Mrs Jones admires Mr Evans immensely. She spoke particularly' of Ins 'undismayed, democracy.' She likes his 'independence of convention,' his bluff W'esterriism," He is a very great friend of hers.' • "Say, I'm 110 bluff Westerner, put in.. Sfr Evans indigiiaiitly. © was thrown it into you, .Bud." . "Cornelia, said Jail tllat ?" gapped Sylvia; "Cornell]*?"'" : "Cornelia," . smiledj- Calvijrt. | Now suppose'we get olit of this crush.", .. There was a quiet force about Calvert. Without apparent effort, without ■■ noise or confusion, he managed tilings.' The wheels .did ribt. sliow, but tlicy alid' swiftly.'' The number of his car was quickly displayed upon the electric signboard. Sylvia and Uncle Etlian were' adroitly piloted through the crowd before the theatre. In next to no time they were rolling, up Broadway., , ' >i; Mr Evans removed his hat arid ton-30 more wiped his forehead.- As the car drew up just before Forty-second street, to await the traffic'polifcemaii's signal, he rebelled. ' '" "Say," Bud," he remarked, "I ve got to get cooled off, or I'll die. J stayed in that there flyin' machine Sm- . vie arid I came down in because I wouldn't leave her alone, but now L' .u goin' to get out. I'll ride with the engineer outside. I've got to ha 'e some cold air or Fll blow up and bu-t. • Wlien they cross Forty-second street Mr Evans occupied the seat beside ttio driver'; Sylvia, in one corner, loo>.*.a straight before lier, and Calvert, in the other, regarded; her fixedly. For time there was silence, and when Calvert finally spoke, it was with ai:parent irrelevance.

"I want you to listen to me tor a few moments. Will'you "Sylvia,* still looking straight before her, nodded/ " ' y . „" . "Almost everyone has some fixed notion or other, I suppose—soiii.e whitn, or hobby,' or fancy? ;"Tou admit that.'' '"Oh; yes," 'assented Sylvia: ; "Cornelia's is Society; What is yours old china?" ' " "No," said Calvert, "not old china. Mine is'' a ' ji'et. aV'ei*sion —not a fancy. Mine is an aversion to- snobi." ■ _ Sylvia turned slowly and looked at him. For a moment, his eyes held hers; then she flushed. ' "Don't—please don't —say that Cornelia—is a snob," she said, with a quiver in her voice. . "I have no intention of saying that Cornelia is a snob," said Calvert. "I lam merely trying to justify myself. :Some time ago, I met a girl—whom I very much admired. I sat next her one everting" at dinner. I'm "afraid I looked at her more'than I should, and talked ;to her less than I should. I went West ithe next day. I thought a great deal about the girl." Sylvia clasped lier lian'ds tightly together beneath her white cloak, and looked straight before her. "The girl troubled me. I did not wish to allow myself to admire her 'more than I already did—it's rather hard to say it, but I want to be honest with you —because my admiration for that girl collided with my pet aversion." ■

"The girl—was a snob? 1 ' asked Sylvia, very low. . ' ! "I did not know. ' I Vvas fearful that she might be—something of that sort. You cannot imagine liow happy —that is the old-fasliioned word that" expresses my condition—how joyously happy you have made me to-night." ' ; Sylvia turned once more slowly and looked at him. Her eyes were brilliant and her cheeks were aflame, but she faced him bravely. "You mean —about Uncle Ethan?" she asked steadily. "You mean that — I —am the girl?" "I mean about Uncle Ethan," answered Calvert as steadily, "and you—•of courseware the;girl." Just here Mr Evans, 'forestalling the carriage man at; Vaurian's, opened the door for them; : .

"Say, Bud," he cried,. "when I get down to hard-pan out in Puller Springs, I'm coming' here to hunt a, job. That -motorman of yours has opened up and given me some facts. Golly, Bud, he's .a Rockefeller!" ■ Calvert leaned out and pulled Mr Evans inside. There was aii air of suppressed -excitement about Mm. "Sit dbwn a moment," he said,'to Mr Evans's surprise. "Now tell Miss Deering, please!" V. ; Mr- 'Evans removed his hat ;and fanned himself with it. v "Do you mean, it?" he asked. "AH over, is it? I can breathe'free breath once more?" "Tell Miss Deering," repeated. Calvert.. "Sylvie, my dear," said Mr Evans, taking .the girl's hitnd and patting it tenderly, "I'haven't been able to breathe right all this evenin'. It wasn't' only the heat. It was the game I was puttin' up oil you,, my dear." 1 "Game?", questioned Sylvia. "Well, this young man here is interested in. mines—Montana mines," said Mr Evans. "In fact, Puller Springs mines. To get down to it, Sylvie, he's in' my mine. He ; and T has' been mighty good friends for a matter of two years. When he came out there a little while ago, we got to talkin' about you, my dear; and I saw he was" -—Mr Evans stumbled and gulped—"well, we got to talkin' about you. The upshot was I swore you had the levelest head and the loyalest heart in the world, and Bud' said: ' " ' "If ,you can prove that to me, to Halifax with Cornelie !'•

"Only it wasn't to Halifax he said, my dear. Cornelie worried him, you see., Cornelie'd worry anybody—between .friends. Well, we came to New York. .together, Bud and I. I was comin'. anyway, but Bud got me started a little earlier'n I intended. Bud wanted me to -stay at his home, but I said: ." 'Not,much. When I get a chance at a good hotel, I take it!' "Well, I knew you <jvas to have a din-ner-party to-night. That's the reason I come. I said to Bud: " 'Cornelia'll throw me out,' I said, 'but mv little Sylvie won't.' "And my little Sylvie didn't," concluded Mr Evans, patting her hand, with a mist in his eyes. "And that's the end of the story; and, thank the Lord, I can breathe again! I nearly give; the whole thing away about fifty times this evenin'. I ain't had a secret tin my lungs in twenty years." For a space Sylvia sat rightly upright, although she was trembling uncontrollably. For a space there was silence, while Mr Evans tenderly patted her.hand. Then Mr Evans spoke. "You ain't mad at us, are you, my dear?"-he asked wistfully. "I'm a old fellow that never had nobody much—ain't got a relation nearer 'n a cousin-in-law ; but from the time yon was

twelve years old, you and I has been friends, really friends, ain't we, S.vlvie ? You ain't goin' to be nuid at us —Bud and me?" "No, indeed I'm not, dear old Uncle Ethan,." began Sylvia bravely, but her voice broke. - ' Suddenly, down went her head upon TJncTe" siroulderr and she cried a little —well, for a variety of reasons, into Mr Evans' coonskin coat. Mr Evans patted her head tenderly and nodded frequently over the top of it at Calvert. The carriage man recalled to them the exigencies of the occasion. He touched his hat at the open door. "Beg pardon, sir. Are you getting out?" he suggested to Calvert-. "Several motors behind you, sir." "Directly," said Calvert, and stepped out. Uncle Ethan dried Sylvia's eyes carefully and stepped out also. Each held 6at his hand to Sylvia, as she prepared to follow. Sylvia looked from one hand to the other, from one face to the other. : Both were wistful faces until she smiled. , Then she accepted both hands and ; stepped out. On the way up the broad steps, .she. ; turned to Calvert. "It won't be necessary, will it, she ; said shyly, "to tell Cofnelia.?"' ' ' J; '-' Calvert, still with the air of sup- : pressed excitement about him, looked : down upon her. ; | "Some of it, Cornelia knows; n\ore of i'ifc, she may guess; but all of it," said : Calvert, "we will never tell Cornelia!" The blacksmith was hoarse, and feverish too; . He lay on his bed and "bollow"-ed tis"shoe." The dreadful cold that he had got Had made him feel—well, just "redhot." I'd rather do three years, said he, In prison walls for •'forge"-ry, But he took Woods' Great Peppermint Cure, Which put him on his "metal" sure.