John Gayther's Garden and the Stories Told Therein

s keeping a tryst with his mate of the nesting season and was calling her to come to him, or whether his coming was pure caprice, of course John Gayther could not know.

he left a note of gladness in John

family now timed their visits to the summer-house, when they were able to go there, by the red thrush; and he seldom disappointed them. It so happened, however, one morning when they

terrace. Can't we have a sto

accosted him gayly: "If you had known that I am go

duty showed itself to her. He liked her because she was fond of the Daughter of the House. He liked her because she considered her husband to be the handsomest, best, and cleverest man in the world. Perhaps John w

e you have favored us,

ll many a story about things that have happened to me. I am not exactly the heroine of th

llow. But I do not think that way now. Along comes a cow, and our careers are ended. Of course we cannot get out of the way of our fate any more than grass can get out of the way of a cow; but it often ha

and although Bernard, my husband, was away most of the time, fishing with Mr. Cheston, we were enjoying ourselves very much. There was a village not far away where there

d, after they were all gone, we two sat on the piazza and talked about them. Two or three of our gue

Which one was that?

me,' she replied. 'I think she wa

ugh which people go into the next county. She sat at the ot

black. She never wears black. I think she wore

and when I do not notice people's clothes I near

deed,' said Emily; 'e

d seen more o

le came on her face which presently grew int

funny about Miss

ut her,' she replied, 'but I often

emple. 'Tell me why you do that,' I said. 'I alwa

bout Margaret Temple. There is not a finer woman to be found anywhere, and I do not believe there

out Miss Temple. It is so seldom there is a

s any real harm in telling you what makes me laugh. A good many people know all abou

s that if she would tell me, I would

ive fact that five married ladies (I am certain of this number, and it may be more) have gone to Margaret Temple,

'Why did they all ask her? I did not notice

for his second wife. If she had the chance to choose her successor, she would like her husband to have a really nice perso

You must remember,' said I, 'that husbands are generally very particular; if one has h

d be very apt to be of the same mind in regard to the sort of person who ought to come in as number two. For my part, I do not wonder at all that so many women have cast their eyes on Margaret Temple as a person they would like to have take their places when they are gone. For one thing, you know they would not be jealous of her; thi

deeply interested. 'How came all this to be known?'

ey always have heard it from those prudent ladies who were providing for their husbands' futures. People ta

o want to secure Miss Temple as a successor. Do

end to his business, and she could not take her little baby; and although she is just as healthy as anybody, she knew all the dangers of railroad travelling, and all sorts of things in that far-away place; and, be

s Temple

tell me, anyway. But I do not believe Margaret absolutely refused; at least, it would not have been prudent for h

turn of the wif

. Windham drinks; but I have seen no signs of it. Then there is another one-and no matter what you may hear people say about these things, you must never mention that I told you this. Mrs. Barnes, the rector's wife, has spoken to Margaret on the subject. She looks very well, so far as I can judge; but there is c

Temple agree wit

ides, it is believed that Mrs. Barnes has not only spoken to Margaret, but to the rector himself; and if he had not thought t

to rise, and I quickly exclaimed: 'But

hing to do with money matters of importance. There are three children, and she has reason to feel anxious about them should they and their property be left in the charge of Mr. Clinton, or to the tender mercies of some woman who would marry him

id I; 'but of course it would be ext

seen her. Her husband is old enough, dear knows, but not quite so old as she is. She is very much afraid that she will die and leave him with nobody to take ca

'it would be the same thing

ret received this remarkable proposition

it could never come

ot,' answered

ng in the street-cars; and it was not long before I had made up my mind as to what sort of woman Margaret Temple was. I set her down as what may be called a balanced person. In fact, I thought at the time she was a little too well balanced; if some of her characteristics had be

on what had called forth the smile. The Master of the House asked permission to light a ciga

able person for a friend and neighbor. Then, suddenly, without any warning, there flashed through me the strangest feeling I ever had in my life. I must have turned pale, for Miss Temple asked me

we ought to go to the sea-shore. But this I positively refused to consider. There could be no sea-shore for me until a good many things had been settled. It wa

and there did seem to be reason. My grandfather had had this disease, and had died of it. To be sure, he was very old; but that did not matter: he died of it, all the same. It never troubled my father, but this made no di

thoughts; for I had had a good many that were not necessarily connected with hereditary diseases. I was positively amazed at the way my husband received what I told

e at the utmost, at any of your meals. When you get up in the morning you must totally abstain from drinking those mixtures that are taken by some people to give appetite for breakfast. At night you must try to do without any sort of punch or toddy to ma

king fun of me; and I said no more to him, for he was not in the

stidious man might be attracted-I do not mean that he would fall in love with her, but that he would be perfectly satisfied with her. In fact, I summed up her character by assuring myself th

e of outdoor sports, and mentioned that I thought it my duty frequently to speak to him in regard to the terrible consequences which might follow a false step when he was out fishing, and that I thought it necessary to repeat this advice very often, for it was my opinion he paid very little attention to it. I a

to think that I desired him to deny himself the company of other gentlemen; but the habit of club attendance was one that might grow on a man, especially a young one, and there were a good many other things that might result from it, such as excessive smoking. So I had thought it well to offer him additional inducements for spending his evenings at home, and I had begun a regular system of reading aloud. It had proved very beneficial to both of us, for I

she said it was Mr. Barnes, I asked her if she went to his church. She answered that she did, and then I told her that I was also an Episcopalian, but that Bernard's parents were Methodist

o much about what I was saying, but she did seem

amily, no matter how queer they may be? I mean the women in it; for they are more likely to be queer than the men. For if she does not do this,' I continued, 'the worst of the trouble, if there is any, will co

er heard her laugh so heartily. As soon as she could speak she exclaimed: '

ce burn. I hesitated a little, but I was obliged to tell the truth, an

the same subject; but I never should have dreamed that such an idea would come into

nd all I could say was that I

d. 'I am getting used to this so

. 'I do not see what there is to bear,' I said. 'Su

she spoke she took both my hands and looked steadily into my face,-'were you not about to ask me to marry your husband, in case of your death, because you

reason for speaking to her about Bernard. 'I cannot exactly explain,' I added, and my face

l be disagreeable to you,' she said; and sh

e can get at her?" asked the Master of the Hou

ed a disease," said the

ase find that woman. Sh

n that subject, papa," sai

ed. "I shall see that you a

us a matter," said the Next Neighbor,

ce, and I tried hard to think of what would be pro

sband, and if nothing should happen at any time or in any way to interfere with such a plan, I will marry your Bernard and take good care of him. I have neve

I managed to stamm

as worse than selling a birthright-it was giving away the dearest thing on earth. I trembled from head to foot when Bernard came home from fishing. I do not believe I ever before greeted him so affectionately. My emotion troubled him, and he a

He was quite surprised, because, as he said, I had never asked him to do such a thing before, but had rather discouraged his s

re not really Bernard's wife, but some sort of a guardian angel who was watching over him to see that so

nd why should not I have as long a life? Perhaps it was the things he ate and drank, and his jovial disposition, that gave him such longevity. If I were sure of this I woul

but I did not know how, unless she gave me the opportunity. But she did not, and so it happened that we talked only about something she was sewing-I do not know whether it was a shirt-waist or an army blanket. In fact, I did not hear one word she said about her stupid work, whatever it was, I was so busy re-studying her face, her character, and everything about her. I now found she was much more than satisfactory-she was really good-loo

ect which was certainly interesting to her as well as to me. But now I did not want to talk, and I gave her no chan

t was awful. Emily Cheston supposed I had a headache, and I let her think so, for it gave me more time to myself. I looked at the thing that threatened to crush all my happiness, on every possibl

elected some one as her successor-and he would be sure to know this, the woman would see to that-he would not feel it necessary to wait. He would be carrying out his dead wife's wishes, and of course in this there should be no delay. Oh, horrible! When I thought of myself as Bernard's dead wife, and that

much as to say: "Listen to me now." Then he twittered and chirped in a tentative way as if he had n

audience," said the Daughter o

nterrupt the story," said her

ters in whatever direction he wished them to be helped, sang out, clear and lo

said: "That was so full of soul I hate

Professor, "that there is a go

eighbor, as she again took u

I went up to Bernard, and, looking into his f

. 'Has any one been a

of taking what I say. 'I mean I am not going to die before you do.

though he only said: 'I am delighted to hear that, my dear girl. But how are you goi

my grandfather did, I do not believe that your being a little older than

doleful things. We are both going to live to be a great deal older than your grandfather. Now I will tell you something pleasant: I had a letter this morning, just as I was starting out. I put it in my pocket, and did not have time to open it until we

my heart so bright that I

ve you to say to this? Aren't y

ied. 'I am more

ary ecstasy; but as he was used to not understanding me, I do n

ways as kind and brotherly as he could be. I was fond of him even before I was married; in fact, I knew him quite well before I became acquainted with Bernard; a

awfully glad t

ght that if he knew everything he would underst

ple. He wanted a wife who was good-looking but not a belle, and she must be sensible and practical, a good housekeeper, and a charming hostess. Besides, she must be intellectual, and fond of books, and appreciate art, and all that. Moreover, he had said he would like her to be just about a yea

it him as no other woman could. If George would fall in love with Miss Temple,-and there was no earthly reason why he should not, for Bernard told me he was going to make him stay a

his home, and he would always have both of them to take care of him and to make him happy in every possible way in which anybody could make him happy. In my mind's eye I could see him in the best room in the house, with all sorts of comforts and luxuries about him-our present comforts and luxuries would make a great show gathered together in o

me a good while about what I had been eating. Before long, however, I grew calm, and was able to think about my plans in a common-sense, practical way. Truly there could be nothing better for my present comfort and Bernard's future happiness: Margaret and Geor

eve any one ever received a warmer welcome from a sister-in-law than I gave him. Bernard m

ays glad to see you, but I am

id laughingly that he believed if I had never met him I would have married George, and I had answe

ut of my plans. It was about the middle of the afternoon when Bernard and his brother came in from a walk. I had been anxious to see George, because I wanted to talk with him about

tree where there was something or other-I entirely forget what it was-which I said I would sh

presently to bring up the subject of Margaret, for I did not know what time she might drop in. But Geo

myself, before anybody else interferes. It is just this: I am engaged to be married, and as soon as I get back from England I am go

happy dreams of the future had dropped to t

queer voice. 'I am very well. There is not

before, and it was of no more import

id; 'and now let us go up to

tly cried myself to sleep. I did not sob loudly, because I did not want Bernard to come up again. When I awoke I had a dreadful headache, and I made up my mind I would not go down to tea. I could do no good by going down, and, so far as I was concerned, it did not matter in the least whether Margaret was there or not. In fa

d at me without speaking, as was so

re so extravagantly glad when you found my brother George was coming here, an

at I had said to Margaret Temple; and how jealous I had been of her afterwards; and how I had planned for her to marry George; and that, after my funeral, he should go to live with them; a

before-that if it were anybody else I might speak, but that I could ne

t alone under the tree where George had told me of his engagement, feeling very much troubled and very lonely. I wanted to tell everything to somebody, but there was no one to tell. It would be impossible to speak to Emily; she would have no sympathy with me; and if I should tell her everything I had planned, I knew she would laugh at me unmercifully. I think it would have pleased me better to speak to George than to any one

er the tree, and as I, apparently, took no notice of her, she stepped down from the piazza and came walking across the lawn toward me. If I had been

I am sure I did not speak pleasantly. I was out of humor with the whole world, and particularly with her. She brought a little cha

f that arrangement you made wi

ecially when I said I would not? The fact is,' I continued,-and it was very hard for me to

and that is the reason I came this morning.

in my place, and how I had determined that it should never be. Then I went on and told her all my plans about George and herself; and how Bernard was to board with them if I died. I made the story a good deal longer than I have made it here. Then I finished by telling her of Ge

d have been by what I said. In fact, she looked as though

e said, 'how I have

woman waiting and longing for the day which would give her that which I prize more than anything else in the world. And to think what you are aspiring to! None of

ybody could speak: 'Well, I do not wonder, either. Your Bernard is a most estimable man, and if nothing should happen in any way or

s and cheeks were blazing. 'Do you mean,' I cried,

ion.' And she spoke with as much deliberation as if she were trying to decide whether it would be

at do you mean by that?

ept what you told me yourself; and what you said was m

'But I can tell you one thing,' I continued, 'and that is that you need not have any hopes in the direction of my husband. I am going to tell him every

"that you would make him

t will be wise to tell him everything; but if you are determined to do so, I must insist that you will

eceiving all these an

you,' she answered; 'and I would not have

nny way of liki

u of my engagement if I had not thought it would be safer to do

it safer that I am going to t

He listened so earnestly that one might have thought he was in church; but when I came to the part about his boarding with George and Miss Temple he could not help laughing. He excused

gs to make me happy. But you must not take so much labor and anxiety upon yourself. I w

in the trouble I have been

me into your confidence, I would have told you that

not think so at first, but

she is too pr

too much so

ou should ever take up such a scheme again we should act together. I am sure my opinion would be of gr

rrid!' I exclaimed; an

e sure, I thought seriously of some things she had said; but then, people can cons

to luncheon, and this sto

ORY IS

GAY

IS C

M AG'IN