The Brown Study | Page 8

wonderful to look at as ever, when one meets
her--which one seldom does. The girls say she walks miles every day,
so she must be well in body, though even that doesn't assure Mrs.
Forrest. I thought, possibly, you might know. You and Helena used to
be such friends."
"We are still, I hope."
His sister's eyes were not easily to be deceived, and they were positive
they saw pain in the eyes which met her own.
"Don," she said softly, "may I ask you one question?"
"Please don't."

"When you were a little boy, and you got hurt in any way, you used to
run away and hide. Are you--hiding now?"
His eyes grew dark with sudden anger, but he replied with self-control:
"You will have to think what you like about that, Sue. If that is the way
the thing looks to you--so be it!"
The sound of the returning car made Mrs. Breckenridge speak
hurriedly:
"I didn't mean to be unkind, Don boy. Nobody knows better than I that
you are no coward. Only--only--you know an ascetic denies himself
things that he needn't. And--you are an ascetic!"
"Can I never convince you of your mistake about that?" he answered;
and now his lips smiled again, a little stiffly.
She embraced him once more, stopped to say beseechingly, "You won't
keep that baby here, will you, Don?" and, receiving his assurance that
he would consult with his neighbours in the morning as to the welfare
of the foundling, took her departure.
Left alone Brown went back into the quiet room. The baby was stirring
among its wrappings. Bim, who had roused himself to see the visitor
off, came and poked his nose into the bundle.
"We never know what's coming, Bim, do we?" asked Brown of his
companion. "Sometimes it's what we want, and sometimes not. But--if
we are to teach others we must be taught ourselves, Bim. And that's
what's happening now."

VI
BROWN'S PERSISTENT MEMORY
"I wonder," he said to himself an hour later, "if it's any use to go to bed
at all!" He was walking the floor with the baby in his arms. Bim,
puzzled and anxious, walked by his side, looking up at the small bundle
with a glance which seemed to say, "What in the world are we going to
do with it?"
Whether the feeding from the teaspoon had disagreed with its digestion
could not be discovered, but clearly the baby was unhappy. It was quiet
when walked with but upon being put down immediately set up such an
outcry that the bachelor, unaccustomed, could not listen to it with
stoicism. Therefore, when he had endured the sound as long as he could,
he had taken the little visitor up and was now walking with it, himself

in bathgown and slippers.
"It may be a pin, Bim," said he suddenly.
He sat down before the fire, laid the baby upon its face on his knees
and began cautiously to investigate. He loosened the tiny garments one
by one, until he had reached the little body and could assure himself
that no sharp point was responsible for the baby's discomfort. He gently
rubbed the small back, wondering, as he did so, at the insignificant area
his hand nearly covered. Under this treatment the wailing gradually
quieted.
"Bim," said he resignedly, "we shall have to sit up with him--for a
while, at least."
Bim walked over to the window.
"No," said his master, "we can't disturb our neighbours at this time of
night. We must see it through. If we can manage to read, it will make
the time go faster."
He reached for a book, opened it at a mark, and began to read, his hand,
meanwhile, steadily maintaining the soothing motion up and down the
baby's back. But his thoughts were not upon the page. Instead, they
took hold upon one phrase his sister had used--one phrase, which had
brought up to him a certain face as vividly as the sudden presentation
of a portrait might have done.
"_She's as wonderful to look at as ever_."
Was she? Well, she had been wonderful to look at--there could be no
question of that. He had looked at her, and looked, and looked again,
until his eyes had blurred with the dazzle of the vision. And having
looked, there could be no possible forgetting, no merciful blotting out
of the recollection of that face. He had tried to forget it, to forget the
whole absorbing personality, had tried with all his strength, but the
thing could not be done. It seemed to him sometimes that the very
effort to efface that image only cut its outlines deeper into his memory.
The baby began to cry afresh, with sudden, sharp insistence. Brown
took it up