Edith Carr stood truly regal and filled with scorn. “You are mistaken! Nothing on earth could kill that!” she cried, and Elnora saw that the girl really believed what she said.
“You are very sure of yourself!” said Elnora.
“I have reason to be sure,” answered Edith Carr.
“We have lived and loved too long. I have had years with him to match against your days. He is mine! His work, his ambitions, his friends, his place in society are with me. You may have a summer charm for a sick man in the country; if he tried placing you in society, he soon would see you as others will. It takes birth to position, schooling, and endless practice to meet social demands gracefully. You would put him to shame in a week.”
“I scarcely think I should follow your example so far,” said Elnora dryly. “I have a feeling for Philip that would prevent my hurting him purposely, either in public or private. As for managing a social career for him he never mentioned that he desired such a thing. What he asked of me was that I should be his wife. I understood that to mean that he desired me to keep him a clean house, serve him digestible food, mother his children, and give him loving sympathy and tenderness.”
“Shameless!” cried Edith Carr.
“To which of us do you intend that adjective to apply?” inquired Elnora. “I never was less ashamed in all my life. Please remember I am in my own home, and your presence here is not on my invitation.”
Miss Carr lifted her head and struggled with her veil. She was very pale and trembling violently, while Elnora stood serene, a faint smile on her lips.
“Such vulgarity!” panted Edith Carr. “How can a man like Philip endure it?”
“Why don't you ask him?” inquired Elnora. “I can call him with one breath; but, if he judged us as we stand, I should not be the one to tremble at his decision. Miss Carr, you have been quite plain. You have told me in carefully selected words what you think of me. You insult my birth, education, appearance, and home. I assure you I am legitimate. I will pass a test examination with you on any high school or supplementary branch, or French or German. I will take a physical examination beside you. I will face any social emergency you can mention with you. I am acquainted with a whole world in which Philip Ammon is keenly interested, that you scarcely know exists. I am not afraid to face any audience you can get together anywhere with my violin. I am not repulsive to look at, and I have a wholesome regard for the proprieties and civilities of life. Philip Ammon never asked anything more of me, why should you?”
“It is plain to see,” cried Edith Carr, “that you took him when he was hurt and angry and kept his wound wide open. Oh, what have you not done against me?”
“I did not promise to marry him when an hour ago he asked me, and offered me this ring, because there was so much feeling in my heart for you, that I knew I never could be happy, if I felt that in any way I had failed in doing justice to your interests. I did slip on this ring, which he had just brought, because I never owned one, and it is very beautiful, but I made him no promise, nor shall I make any, until I am quite, quite sure, that you fully realize he never would marry you if I sent him away this hour.”
“You know perfectly that if your puny hold on him were broken, if he were back in his home, among his friends, and where he was meeting me, in one short week he would be mine again, as he always has been. In your heart you don't believe what you say. You don't dare trust him in my presence. You are afraid to allow him out of your sight, because you know what the results would be. Right or wrong, you have made up your mind to ruin him and me, and you are going to be selfish enough to do it. But——”
“That will do!” said Elnora. “Spare me the enumeration of how I will regret it. I shall regret nothing. I shall not act until I know there will be nothing to regret. I have decided on my course. You may return to your friends.”
“What do you mean?” demanded Edith Carr.
“That is my affair,” replied Elnora. “Only this! When your opportunity comes, seize it! Any time you are in Philip Ammon's presence, exert the charms of which you boast, and take him. I grant you are justified in doing it if you can. I want nothing more than I want to see you marry Philip if he wants you. He is just across the fence under that automobile. Go spread your meshes and exert your wiles. I won't stir to stop you. Take him to Onabasha, and to Chicago with you. Use every art you possess. If the old charm can be revived I will be the first to wish both of you well. Now, I must return to my visitors. Kindly excuse me.”
Elnora turned and went back to the arbour. Edith Carr followed the fence and passed through the gate into the west woods where she asked Henderson about the car. As she stood near him she whispered: “Take Phil back to Onabasha with us.”
“I say, Ammon, can't you go to the city with us and help me find a shop where I can get this pinion fixed?” asked Henderson. “We want to lunch and start back by five. That will get us home about midnight. Why don't you bring your automobile here?”
“I am a working man,” said Philip. “I have no time to be out motoring. I can't see anything the matter with your car, myself; but, of course you don't want to break down in the night, on strange roads, with women on your hands. I'll see.”
Philip went into the arbour, where Polly took possession of his lap, fingered his hair, and kissed his forehead and lips.
“When are you coming to the cottage, Phil?” she asked. “Come soon, and bring Miss Comstock for a visit. All of us will be so glad to have her.”
Philip beamed on Polly. “I'll see about that,” he said. “Sounds pretty good. Elnora, Henderson is in trouble with his automobile. He wants me to go to Onabasha with him to show him where the doctor lives, and make repairs so he can start back this evening. It will take about two hours. May I go?”
“Of course, you must go,” she said, laughing lightly. “You can't leave your sister. Why don't you return to Chicago with them? There is plenty of room, and you could have a fine visit.”
“I'll be back in just two hours,” said Philip. “While I am gone, you be thinking over what we were talking of when the folks came.”
“Miss Comstock can go with us as well as not,” said Polly. “That back seat was made for three, and I can sit on your lap.”
“Come on! Do come!” urged Philip instantly, and Tom Levering joined him, but Henderson and Edith silently waited at the gate.
“No, thank you,” laughed Elnora. “That would crowd you, and it's warm and dusty. We will say good-bye here.”
She offered her hand to all of them, and when she came to Philip she gave him one long steady look in the eyes, then shook hands with him also.
CHAPTER XXIII
WHEREIN ELNORA REACHES A DECISION, AND FRECKLES AND THE ANGEL APPEAR
“Well, she came, didn't she?” remarked Mrs. Comstock to Elnora as they watched the automobile speed down the road. As it turned the Limberlost corner, Philip arose and waved to them.
“She hasn't got him yet, anyway,” said Mrs. Comstock, taking heart. “What's that on your finger, and what did she say to you?”
Elnora explained about the ring as she drew it off.
“I have several letters to write, then I am going to change my dress and walk down toward Aunt Margaret's for a little exercise. I may meet some of them, and I don't want them to see this ring. You keep it until Philip comes,” said Elnora. “As for what