The Heart's Kingdom

That night of Billy's ball for the magnate, who was having the time of

his gray-headed life under Billy's and Nickols' enthusiastic direction,

the strange alien thing that had been developed in my depths, part

unrest and part rebellion, since I had first looked into the eyes of the

young Methodist parson, who had intruded himself and his chapel into my

existence, got its death blow. In my presence Nickols made his formal

request of the Reverend Mr. Goodloe to officiate at our marriage.

"Of course, Greg, old fellow, you are going to marry us next Tuesday,

aren't you?" asked Nickols, as we stood on the steps of the Poplars

after dinner, chatting with him as he was leaving to go over to the

chapel while we went out to the dance. "I suppose there is some sort of

formal way to make the request, but I don't know it."

"If there is I don't know it, either," was the kindly answer, which

both Nickols and I took for assent.

"Thank you, sir," said Nickols, as he turned away towards father and Mr.

Cockrell and Mr. Jeffries, who had come out on the porch with their

cigars, and left him and me standing alone in the starlight.

"God guard you!" he said to me without taking the hand I held out to him

in the darkness with a kind of desperation that seemed that of a

drowning woman. "Good-bye!" and he was gone out into the night, leaving

me, I knew, forever outside of his life.

"Wait, Oh wait!" I pleaded, but he was gone and I didn't even know if he

heard the cry out into the velvet darkness.

That night was the most brilliant night that Goodloets had ever known.

The Town was full of guests who had motored over from all the towns

around in the Harpeth Valley. The Governor had come down from the

capital in his huge touring car to congratulate father on his

appointment and to meet Mr. Jeffries. His adjutant-general and several

of his aids were with him in their showy State Guard uniforms and all of

the girls were rosy with excitement at the presence of so many rows of

brass buttons. Mr. Jeffries opened the ball, and to the delight and

amusement of us all, he succeeded in leading out with him Mrs. Sproul,

who turned the opening dance into a stately old Virginia reel, which so

delighted the tango dancers with its novelty that the dance was repeated

several times during the evening by enthusiastic requests.

And while the Town reveled in celebration of the new Goodloets, down in

the Settlement like rejoicings were being held at the dance hall of the

Last Chance. In fact, the whole small city was in the throes of a great

rejoicing. Why shouldn't all Goodloets revel when it was enjoying a

prosperity beyond anybody's dreams of two years before? Everybody had

been generous to the old town with the money that had come so easily

from other suffering people's necessities, and security and good

fellowship and prosperity reigned supreme. In each heart there was the

feeling that now the old town and their personal lives were founded on

solid rocks of peace and plenty and it was the time to eat, drink and be

merry.