But Fetzer's prompting had sprung from her own heart, and it did not take into account any reputations before the world.
"Because nothing can come of it for her but trouble," she said, and went out of the room with dignity, not forgetting to say good-night or to lift her tray.
CHAPTER XXXI
ELLEN REMEMBERS BROTHER REITH
In the fading light of a December afternoon Miss Grammer and Ellen went together to an organ recital in the chapel. Only the lamps at the organ were lighted and they found their way to a pew in the twilight and sat very still, seeing dimly the mosaics picked out in gold, the faint outlines of arched windows and the shadowy forms of human beings. They were not curious about what was being played; for them music was merely an aid to meditation. Miss Grammer saw a little brown house whose snug interior was like that of a ship's cabin. It had built-in cases of drawers, many book-cases, a few pieces of mahogany furniture, and at the windows white curtains and red geraniums, and it was surrounded by neat flower-beds in which there was a continual succession of old-fashioned bloom.
Ellen's thoughts dwelt upon a human and not a material object. She saw Stephen's smile and heard his "Well, Ellen!" It was only at such moments as this that she allowed herself to think of him. A history paper had recently been marked B, instead of A, and she knew the reason perfectly, she had been meditating during a lecture upon the admirable character of her benefactor. There are long periods in youth when the present suffices for happiness, when the distant future casts no shadow upon the drifting hours. She was content to work as few students ever worked and to allow herself grateful thoughts during organ recitals and late in the evening when she sat on the window-seat in the Seminar room waiting for Miss Grammer to complete her longer tasks.
This afternoon the organist seemed to have selected his compositions for the special benefit of dreamers. He used soft stops, and one lost at times almost all consciousness of sound. His little yellow-haired boy had climbed to the organ bench and the light fell upon him as he sat motionless watching his father's hands. It seemed as though he were producing the music by a childish magic.
"Two years from now I shall probably be settled for life," said Miss Grammer to herself. "I shall not buy a house for a year, however, until I am sure that everything suits me. I shall have a fireplace with a couch before it and my bookshelves shall be all about me like a wall. If only nothing happens!" Miss Grammer shivered. Alas, things had often happened!
"Two weeks from now I shall be at home," said Ellen. "It will be almost dinner-time and I shall be going down to the library. Perhaps I shall have a letter this evening."