The Hearts Kingdom

The Heart's Kingdom, by Maria
Thompson

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Title: The Heart's Kingdom
Author: Maria Thompson Daviess

Release Date: July 4, 2006 [eBook #18756]
Language: English
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THE HEART'S KINGDOM
by
MARIA THOMPSON DAVIESS
Author of The Melting of Molly, etc.
Illustrated by W. B. King

[Illustration: "It's a mighty big turkle," he faltered, and snuggled
closer.]

New York Grosset & Dunlap Publishers Copyright, 1917 by The Reilly
& Britton Co. Made in U.S.A. Published September 12, 1917 Second
Printing October 1, 1917

CONTENTS
I The World and the Flesh 9
II The Harpeth Jaguar 27
III The Gauntlet 41
IV To Turkey Gulch 61
V Having It Out 92

VI Deep Digging 109
VII The Tristan Love Song 132
VIII Breasting the Gale 146
IX Into Brambles 161
X Water and Oil 181
XI A Bit of Raw Life 195
XII The Tenacious Turtle 211
XIII The Short-Circuit 227
XIV Abide With Me 241
XV A Clandestine Adventure 258
XVI The Jewel in the Matrix 283
XVII The Pageant 297
XVIII Light--Into Darkness 312
XIX The Spark and the Blaze 327
XX The Covert of Wings 344

The Heart's Kingdom
CHAPTER I
THE WORLD AND THE FLESH
"A beautiful woman is intended to create a heaven on earth and she has
no business wasting herself making imaginary excursions into any

future paradise. The present is her time for action; and again, Charlotte,
I ask you to name the day upon which you intend to marry me," said
Nickols Powers, as he stood lounging in the broad window of Aunt
Clara's music room and gazing down into the subdued traffic of upper
Madison Avenue.
"I wish you had never taken me across that ferry and into that room
crowded with redolent humanity to hear an absurd little man string
together vivid, gross words about religion, words that made me tingle
all over," I answered as I threw my coat on a chair, lifted my hat from
my head and sat down on the seat before the dark old piano. "I think
religion is the most awful thing in the world and I am as afraid of it as I
am of--of death. I'm going home to my father."
"Oh, don't be afraid of it. Religion is the most potent form of
intoxication known to the human race. That's why I took you over to
hear the little baseball player. I wanted you to get a sip. But don't let it
go to your head." And Nickols mocked me with soft tenderness in his
smile.
"Well, it frightened me, and I don't like it. I'm going home to my father
and forget it," I reiterated with a kind of numbness upon me, the like of
which I had never before experienced.
"I'll protect you from any religious danger just as effectively as Judge
Powers. I'm younger--slightly--than he, but I know just as many of the
wiles of the world and the flesh as he does and maybe a few more,"
Nickols assured me, with a flash in his dark eyes that was both wicked
and humorous, as well as very delightful.
"And the devil, too! But you don't understand. I must go home to my
father," I answered still again.
"You don't understand yourself," returned Nickols. "There are strange
hieroglyphics imprinted on every woman's heart and a man can read
only an unconnected word here and there when he can get his flashlight
thrown into the depths--if he dares adventure into her life at all. I feel
that I take my own life in my hands when I allow you to talk to me as I

am allowing you to-night."
"How do you know that those hieroglyphics might not mean the
salvation of the world if she could spell them out herself, or some great
and good person took a steady lamp and went down into her heart
and--"
"It takes a very wicked man to read a woman; good men are blinded by
them and stumble," Nickols assured me as he came over, stood beside
me and ran his long, slender, artist's fingers up and down the keys