The Heart's Kingdom

"That's what they say, but they can't prove it. They can't pass it on,

so it mustn't really be anything. They are not tightwads, so they

wouldn't hold back on us with their salvation, would they? Well, then,

they haven't anything. It's all just a substitute for love, dear. Mother

Spurlock fell back on it when she lost her husband. The little Burns

woman wouldn't have it any more than Nell has if Mike Burns was like

Mark Morgan. And Goodloe would lose it in a week if--if he could get you

in his arms." As Nickols spoke, his arms about me trembled and strained

me to him.

"No!" I exclaimed as if I had heard blasphemy uttered.

"It is, dear, it is just suppressed sex. The scientists agree on that

and all the religions are just that, from the most primitive to the most

evolved. Some are more frank about it than others. The Igorrotes when

they have their religious dancing at the mating season are more open

than the Methodists about their being one and the same thing, but it all

sums up alike. You can't get away from those facts."

"Then I want to be dead," I said as I drew myself from his arm and stood

on the edge of the porch.

"Or you want to love," muttered Nickols under his breath as he watched

me sullenly for a second. "Then it's October, is it?" he asked with one

of his infectious, delicious laughs that have always broken across my

serious moods and made them froth.

"Yes," I answered steadily.

"Then we'll tell Nell and Harriet and Jessie and Mrs. Sproul all about

it, as I see them coming, on gossip bent I feel sure," he said as he

went halfway down the walk to meet the girls before I could restrain

him.

I shall always have with me the picture that Nickols made as he stood

tall and handsome and smiling against the background of the wonderful

garden he had helped to create, with the women smiling and clinging to

him as he looked up at me with a great laughing light in his face. In

some ways he was the handsomest man I had ever seen and his distinctions

sat upon him as easily as the college honors of a boy. A wave of race

pride and love swept up in my heart as I looked at him and I felt that

in him must be the refuge that I sought. His sophistries always sank

deep into me.

"Charlotte, my dear," said Mrs. Sproul, as I led her to a seat beneath

the vines in a shady corner, "I wish I was sure that your mother knew of

this safe happiness of yours. She adored Nickols and nothing could have

given her a greater joy. And, my dear, for you to have held him against

the world, as it were, is a triumph, I assure you. Always remember that

men of his kind are--are desirable. I'll have a long talk with you

before you go away with him." And I didn't know why, but the smile with

which Mrs. Sproul whispered and patted my hand made me burn all over

with protest.