The Penalty

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The Penalty

The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Penalty, by Gouverneur Morris,
Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy
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Title: The Penalty
Author: Gouverneur Morris
Release Date: June 8, 2004 [eBook #12557]
Language: English
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THE PENALTY
By
Gouverneur Morris
Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy
1913

[Illustration: "Are you in love with me now?" he asked wistfully]

TO MARY BALDWIN
If I should lose from my life that part of it of which you are a part, there
would be but a skeleton left. Yet if you had played a larger part in my
life I should have been so spoiled that there would be no living with me.
And I'm spoiled enough, God knows!
In the Iliad you wrote for me, and I "drawed" for us both, 'twas Hector
fixed Achilles. When I sat at your right hand and your sharp, swift
knife went into the turkey, 'twas I that got the tit-bits and the oyster.
And all was right with the world then, I can tell you!
We have ridden together over old battlefields, and I have worn the
epaulettes and the swords in the attic, and listened to tales of the great
brother who died of the war, and whose bull-terrier Jerry chased the
cannon-balls at Gettysburg. Oh, the cutlass captured from the
Confederate ram, and the wooden canteen, and the Confederate money
(in a frame)! I was the hunter that used to handle the Colt (with the

ships engraved on the cylinder) that shot the buffalo from the rear
platform of the train, and was stolen by a genuine thief. Is Jeff Davis's
bible that he gave to the brother who with Major R. caused game
chickens to fight for the edification of his captivity still in your upper
bureau drawer?
Are the photographs that General Gilmore had taken of Charleston
siege still in the bookcase with the glass doors? Or have they vanished
like the child's footprint that I made for you when we were planting
the--the "plant," and I was going away?
Time has passed. Grand nephews are as young and hopeful as nephews
used to be. I have written innumerable miserable grovelling tales. I
dedicate this one to you; despairing at last of writing that masterpiece
which should have been worthy of you.
But tell me this: Is there still a little corner of your heart that I may call
mine? a corner into which no one else is allowed to put--yes--to put
_foot_? Oh, but I should be glad to know that!
G.M.
BEDFORD, February, 1913.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
"Are you in love with me now?" he asked wistfully (Frontispiece).
She wished that she might die, or, infinitely better, that she had 4 never
been born.
She had on her work-apron, but she was not working.
He praised, blamed, patronized, puffed his pipe, and dwelt with
superiority on topics which are best left alone.
She took some coins from her purse and dropped them into the tin cup.

The young man knelt at the door by which he had entered and began to
remove its ancient lock.
Harry, the workman, ... rose to his feet, and turned to Barbara with a
certain quiet eagerness.
But Barbara and Wilmot Allen, well used to even larger and more
stately rooms, chatted ... as two children.
She faced him, still scornful, but white now, and biting her lips.
In a few minutes Bubbles returned. "He's just sitting there with a hell of
a face on him," he said, "and she's working like a dynamo".
Dr. Ferris frowned. "I'm not trying to interfere," he said. "You're old
enough to know what's best for you".
"Some unknown person," said Barbara, "has formed the habit of
sending me flowers".
In the dim light she looked wonderfully young and beautiful.
He turned with one foot on the sidewalk, and one in the cab.... "Here I
wishes you salutations".
Wilmot Allen took her in to dinner, and looked much love at her, and
talked much nonsense.
He saw her with the vase of jonquils in her hand ... and his stout heart
failed him a little.
When Bubbles had trotted off, she dropped