The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1910-01-21
CHAPTER V.


The flag so casually suggested be-
came in effect a very favorite toy,
both with Beaufort and his step-son.
The one was very ordinary little
boy, The other a highly cultivated
man. But they seemed to take equal
pleasure in the fiutter of the flag from
the blue and white star which Tom
had painted with SO much trouble,
and in rushing out to pull it down
when Lady Car in the little pony
carriage drove from the door. They
sometimes tumbled over each other
In their haste and zeal to perform
this Office. And Beau's legs were so
much the longest. It gave him a
great and just advantage over Tom.
Carry was pleased, she was touched
and flattered, and such vanity as she
had was so delicately mfnistered to
that for some time the little folly
which took the air of homage to her
made her feel happy. To see the
grave and gentle philosopher with a
long swift stride almost stepping over,
the children to get at the cord, and.
pull up the fluttering flag, a brilliant
piece of color among the bare trees,
as she appeared with the ponies in
the little avenue. 1t was a little abb
surd, but so sweet. Edward did it,
she allowed herself to imagine, as
he had said, for lesson to Tonic,
teach him thus broadly though SYM
politically the honor that was due to-
his mother-not to Carry individual-
ly, who never claimed homage, but
to the mother, whose claims the boy
was not sufficiently conscious Of;
This was not at all the lesson which
Beaufort had intended to teach Toni
but what did that matter? 1t had
certain effect in that way, though
none in the way that Beaufort iny
tended. 1t did give Tom an impress
sion of the importance of his mother.
Mothers not just woman like the
rest" he said to Janet. She is what
you may call a great body, Jane, don't
you know? There's Mrs. Howard and
that sort, you don't run up flags for
them. Mothers really something like
the Queen-it's in earnest. Beau
thinks so. can tell he's awful fond
of mother. And so am I, too
oh, Tom, so am l."
Yes, but you're just natural. You
don't understand. But me and Beau
know why we do it." said Tom. And
when he got back to school if he did
not boast SO much of his place in
Scotland, having acquired an uneasy
sort Of doubt of its magnificence, he
intimated that his parentage was not
like that of the others. when my
people drive from the door the flag
goes down. he said. ITS such fun
rushing and getting hold of the rope
and up with a tug, as soon as they
come into the avenue. Sometimes,
when it's been raining, the rope won't.
run It's such fun" cried Tom,
while even Harrison Majors mouth
was closed. The flag was beyond him.
AS for Janet, she looked on staring
and observed everything. and drew
many silent conclusions never per-
haps to be revealed.
But when the holidays were over
,Carry's anxious expectations and sus-
pense returned again. Beaufort kept
to his new toy even when Tom was
gone. He would interrupt his studies,
springing up, whatever he was doing,
to let down, to pull down or put up
that flag, till poor Carry's heart grew
sick of the little formula which ac-
companied all his movements. She
began to feel that he liked to be
disturbed, and that idling forth into
the air to perform this ceremony
was more delightful to him than to
get OH with that work. which so far
as she could make out, was not yet
begun. He had found more note
books after Tom went away, but the
notebooks now began to pail little.
And slowly, slowly Carry's eyes be-
gan to open. She never whispered it
to herself, but she began to under
stand as the years went on many
things that were never put into words.
She became first of all very sick of
the notebooks and the wonderful
number Of them. and all those tantal-
izing scraps which never came to
anything. Her own little poem which
she had begun had gone no further.
The dawning of genius set, but the
dawn was still going on. 1t had
never come to be doing yet. Would
1t ever come? Slowly, reluctantly,
this began to be revealed to her,
broken by phases of better hope; by
moments when she said to herself
that she was the most unjust woman
In the world. grudging her husband
the leisure in which alone great
thought can develop grudging him
the very quiet which it had been the
desire of her heart to attain for him..
The most unjust scorn of woman!
not his wife and assistant, but his
judge, and so hard one! 1t was
bitter-sweet to Carry to be. able. thus
to condemn herself; but 1t did not
change the position of affairs.
One evening they were seated to-