The Definite Object

Chapter 13

WHEREIN MAY BE FOUND SOME PARTICULARS OF THE BEAUTIFUL CITY OF PERHAPS

Mrs. Bowker was a small woman, worn and faded like her carpets and curtains and the dress she wore, but, like them, she was very clean and neat.

"'T is real good of you to come, Miss Hermy," said this small, faded woman, and Ravenslee thought her very voice sounded faded, so repressed and dismally soft was it. "I wouldn't have had the face t' send for you, Miss Hermy, only Hazel calls an' calls, like she's doin' now--listen!"

And sure enough from somewhere near by a small voice reached them, pitifully faint and thin: "Hermy dear, come t' me--oh, Hermy dear!"

"She allus lays an' calls like that lately when her poor hip's worse 'n usual," sighed Mrs. Bowker. "And your gentleman friend--would he like t' see her too?"

"Thank you, I should," answered Ravenslee in his soft, pleasant voice.

"Oh, Mrs. Bowker, this is Mr. Geoffrey," said Hermione a trifle hurriedly, "he came with me to--to--"

"Be presented to the princess, if she will honour me," he added.

"Ah!" said Mrs. Bowker, looking up at him with a faded smile, "Hazel told me you had a pretty voice, sir, an' I guess I know what she meant. She sets out on the stairs when she's well enough an' has often seen ye."

"Hermy, dear, come t' me--oh, Hermy dear!" called the little voice.

"Yes, go in, my dear, you know y' way, I guess," sighed Mrs. Bowker, passing a small, worn hand across her faded eyes. "There's five dozen more collar-bands I must stitch an' buttonhole t'night--so go your ways, my dear." So saying, Mrs. Bowker went back to her labour, which was very hard labour indeed, while Hermione led the way into a tiny room, where, on a small, neat truckle-bed covered by a faded quilt, a small, pale child lay fading fast. But at sight of her visitors, two big, brown eyes grew bigger yet, and her pale, thin little cheeks flushed eagerly.

"Oh, Hermy dear!" she cried, clasping frail hands, "oh, Hermy, you've brought him--you've brought me our fairy prince at last!"

Now what was there in these childish words to cause Hermione's eyes to droop so suddenly as she took the bottle from Ravenslee's hand, or her rounded cheek to flush so painfully as she stooped to meet the child's eager kiss, or, when she turned away to measure a dose of the medicine, to be such an unconscionable time over it? Observing all of which, Ravenslee forthwith saluted the small invalid with a grave bow, battered hat gracefully flourished.

"It is truly an honour to meet you, princess!" said he, and lifting the child's frail little hand, he touched it to his lips. Thereafter, obeying the mute appeal of that hand, he seated himself upon the narrow bed, while Hermione, soft-voiced and tender, bent above the invalid, who, having obediently swallowed her medicine, leaned back on her pillow and smiled from one to the other.

"And now," said she, drawing Hermione down at her other side and snuggling between, "now please let's all tell some more fairy tale; an' please, you begin, Hermy, just where you had t' leave off last time."

"Why, I--I'm afraid I've forgotten, dear," said Hermione, bending to smooth the child's pillow.

"Forgotten--oh, Hermy! But I 'member quite well; you got where poor Princess Nobody was climbing the mountain very tired an' sad an' carrying her heavy pack, an' all at once--along came the Prince an' took her heavy bundle and said he'd love to carry it for her always if she'd let him. An' poor Nobody knew he was the real Prince at last--the Prince she'd dreamed of an' waited for all her life, 'cos he'd got grey eyes so brave an' true--an' he was so big an' strong an' noble. So he helped her to the top of the mountain, an' then she thought at last she could see the beautiful City of Perhaps. That's where you got to--don't you 'member, Hermy dear?"

Now why should Hermione's shapely head have drooped and drooped until at last her face was hidden on the pillow? And why should Geoffrey Ravenslee reach to touch the child's hair with hand so light and tender?

"The beautiful City of Perhaps," said he gently, "why, Princess, where did you learn about that?"

"From dear Princess Nobody, oh, Prince!"

"And who is she?"

"Why, she's Hermy, Prince--and I'm Princess Somebody. And oh, Hermy dear, you do 'member where you left off now, don't you?"

"Yes, I remember; but I--don't feel like telling fairy stories now, dear."

"Oh! are y' sick?" cried the child anxiously, touching Hermione's golden hair with loving fingers, "is it a headache like my mumsey gets?"

"N-no, dear, only I--I don't feel like telling any more of our story--to-night--somehow, dear."

"Princess," said Ravenslee, "do you know much about the wonderful City of Perhaps?"

"Oh, yes--an' I dream about it sometimes, Prince--such beautiful dreams!"

"Why, of course," nodded Ravenslee, "because it is the most beautiful City that ever happened, I guess!"

"Oh, it is!" cried the child, "shall I tell you?"

"Please do, Princess."

"Well, it's all made of crystal an' gold, an' every one's happy there and never sick--oh, never! An' all the children can have ices an' cream sodas whenever they want an' lovely doll-carriages with rubber on the wheels an'--an' everything's just lovely. Of course every one's daddy's got lots an' heaps an' piles of money, so they never get behind with the rent an' never have to set up all night stitching an' stitching like mumsey an' Hermy have to sometimes. An' I'm Princess Somebody, an' Hermy's Princess Nobody, an' we're on our ways through the valley of gloom, trying to find the beautiful City of Perhaps--but oh, it's awful hard to find!" she ended, with a weary little sigh.

"And yet, Princess, I'm sure we shall find it."

"We? Oh, are you coming too, Prince?" cried the child joyfully.

"To be sure I am!" nodded Ravenslee.

"Oh, goody, I'm glad--so glad, 'cause I know we shall find it now!"

"Why?"

"Well," answered the child, looking at him with her big, wistful eyes, "'cause you look like you could find it, somehow. You see, Prince, you've got grey eyes so brave an' true--an' you're big an' strong an' could carry me an' Hermy over the thorny places when we get very, very tired--couldn't you?"

"I could!" answered Ravenslee almost grimly, "and I--surely will!"

"When we get there, Prince, I want first--a doll-carriage an' a doll with lovely blue eyes that wink at you, an' a big box of candy, an' a new dress for my mumsey, an' no more work, an' I want lots an' lots of flowers for my daddy 'cause he loves flowers--oh, an' I want my leg t' be made well. What d' you want, Hermy?"

"Well, dear, I want to--say good-by to my sewing-machine for ever and ever and ever!"

"Why, Hermy!" exclaimed the child, "last time you said you wanted some one who could give you your heart's desire!"

"Perhaps that is my heart's desire, little Hazel," said Hermione, rising and taking up the medicine bottle.

"An' what do you want, Prince?"

"I want a great deal," answered Ravenslee, smiling down into the big, soft eyes. "I want some one who--is my heart's desire now and for ever and ever. Good night, dear little Princess!"

"You'll come again, Prince?" she pleaded, holding up her face to be kissed, "you'll come again soon?"

"As soon as--Princess Nobody will bring me."

"Good night, Hermy dear; you'll bring our Prince again soon?"

"If you wish, dear," said Hermione, stooping to kiss her in turn.

"Why, Hermy--what makes your cheeks so hot to-night?"

"Are they?" said Hermione, making pretence to test them with the back of her hand.

"Why, yes," nodded the child, "an' they look so red an'--"

"Of course you believe in fairies, don't you, Princess?" enquired Ravenslee rather hurriedly.

"Oh, yes, Prince, I often see them in my dreams. They just wait till I'm asleep, an' then they come an' show themselves. Do you ever see any?"

"Well, your highness, I fancy I have lately, and when fairies are around, things are sure to happen; wishes get the habit of coming true. So, little Princess, just go on wishing and dreaming and--watch out!"

Then Ravenslee turned and followed Hermione out upon the dingy landing; but as he climbed the stair, there went with him the memory of a little face, very thin and pale, but radiant and all aglow with rapturous hope. Silently as they had come they mounted the stairs, until, reaching the topmost landing, they paused as by mutual consent.

"Poor little Hazel!" said Hermione very gently, "if only there were real fairies to spirit her away to where the air is sweet and pure and flowers grow for little hands to gather--the doctor told me it was her only chance."

"Why, then of course she must have her chance!" said Ravenslee with a sleepy nod.

"But, Mr. Geoffrey--how?"

"Well--er--the fairies--you said something about fairies spiriting--"

"The fairies!" said Hermione a little bitterly, "I guess they are too busy over their own affairs to trouble about a poor, little, sick child; besides, what fairy could possibly live five minutes in--Mulligan's?"

"Which leaves us," said Ravenslee thoughtfully, "which leaves us the beautiful City of Perhaps. It is a wonderful thought, that!"

"But only a thought!" she sighed.

"Is it? Are you quite sure?"

"Well, isn't it?" she questioned wistfully.

"No!" he answered gravely, "the City of Perhaps is very, very real."

"What do you mean?"

Once again their hands touched in the shadow, but this time his fingers closed upon her hand, the hand that held the medicine bottle, drawing her nearer in the dimness of that dingy landing.

"I mean," he answered, "that for every one of us there is a City of Perhaps waiting to open its gates to our coming, and I am sure we shall reach it sooner or later, all three of us--the Princess and you and I--yes, even I, when I have done something worth while. And then, Hermione, then--nothing shall keep me from--my heart's delight--nothing, Hermione!" As he ended, she felt an arm about her in the dimness; an arm fierce and strong that gripped and swept her close--then, as suddenly, loosed her. For a breathless moment he stood with head bowed in seeming humility, then, stooping, he crushed her hand, medicine bottle and all, to lips that burned with anything but humility.

"Good night, dear Princess Nobody!" he said, and watched her turn away, nor moved until the door had closed upon her. That night he smoked many pipes, weaving him fancies of the beautiful City of Perhaps, and dreamed dreams of what might be, and his eyes glowed bright and wide, and his mouth grew alternately grim and tender. And, that night, long after he lay asleep, Hermione's golden head was bowed above her work, but, more than once she stayed her humming sewing-machine to look at one white hand with eyes shy and wistful--the hand that had held the medicine bottle, of course.