1Northeaster (Leander wrote). Wind backed from SW. 3rd equinoctial disturbance of season. All in love is not larky and fractious. —In the attic the broken harp-string music of water dropping into pails and pans had begun and, feeling chilled and exposed to the somber view of the river in the rain, he put away his papers and went down the stairs. Sarah was in Travertine. Lulu was away. He went into the back parlor, where he was completely absorbed in building and lighting a fire—in watching how it caught, in sniffing the perfume of clean wood and feeling the heat as it reached his hands and then went through his clothes. When he was warm he went to the window to see the dark day. He was surprised to see a car turn in the gates and come up the drive. It was one of the old sedans from the taxi stand at the station.

2The car stopped at the side door and he saw a woman lean forward and talk to the driver. He did not recognize the passenger—she was plain and gray-haired—and he guessed that she was one of Sarah’s friends. He watched her from the window. She opened the door of the car and walked up, through the thin curtain of rain that fell from the broken gutters, to the door. Leander was glad for any company and he went down the hall and opened the door before she rang.

3He saw a very plain woman, her coat darkened at the shoulders with rain. Her face was long, her hat was trimmed gaily with hard white feathers, like the feathers that are used to balance badminton birds, and her coat was worn. Leander had seen, he thought, hundreds of her kind. They were the imprimatur of New England. Dutiful, pious and hardy, they seemed to have patterned their spirits after the weeds that grow in high pastures. They were the women, Leander thought, after whom the dirty boats of the mackerel fleet were named: Alice, Esther, Agnes, Maybelle and Ruth. That there should be feathers in her hat, that an ugly pin made of seashells should be pinned to her flat breast, that there should be anything feminine, any ornament on such a discouraging figure, seemed to Leander touching.

4“Come in,” Leander said. “I expect you’re looking for Mrs. Wapshot?”

5“I think you’re the gentleman I’m looking for,” she said with a look so troubled and shy that Leander glanced down at his clothes. “I’m Miss Helen Rutherford. Are you Mr. Wapshot?”

6“Yes, I’m Leander Wapshot. Come in, come in out of the rain. Come into the parlor. I have a little fire.” She followed Leander along the hall and he opened the door to the back parlor. “Sit down,” he said. “Sit in the red chair. Sit by the fire. Give your clothes a chance to dry out.”

7“You have quite a big house here, Mr. Wapshot,” she said.

8“It’s too big,” Leander said. “Do you know how many doors there are in this house? There are one hundred and twenty-two doors in this house. Now what was it that you wanted to see me about?”

9She made a sniffling sound as if she had a cold or might even have been crying and began to unbuckle a heavy brief case that she carried.

10“Your name was given to me by an acquaintance. I’m an accredited representative of the Institute for Self-Improvement. We still have a few subscriptions open for eligible men and women. Dr. Bartholomew, the director of the institute, has divided human knowledge into seven branches. Science, the arts—both the cultural arts and the arts of physical well-being—religion …”

11“Who gave you my name?” Leander asked.

12“Dr. Bartholomew thinks it’s more a question of inclination than background,” the stranger said. “Many people who’ve been fortunate enough to have a college education are still ineligible by Dr. Bartholomew’s standards.” She spoke without emphasis or feeling, almost with dread, as if she had come about something else, and she kept her eyes on the floor. “Educators all over the world and some of the crowned heads of Europe have endorsed Dr. Bartholomew’s methods and Dr. Bartholomew’s essay on ‘The Science of Religion’ is in the Royal Library in Holland. I have a picture of Dr. Bartholomew here and …”

13“Who gave you my name?” Leander asked again.

14“Daddy,” she said. “Daddy gave me your name.” She began to wring her hands. “He died last summer. Oh, he was good to me, he was like a real daddy, there wasn’t anything in the world that he wouldn’t do for me. He was my best beau. On Sundays we used to take walks together. He was awfully intelligent but they cheated him. They did him out of everything. He wasn’t afraid, though, he wasn’t afraid of anything. Once we went to a show in Boston. That was on my birthday. He bought these expensive seats. They were supposed to be in the orchestra but when we came to sit in them they put us in the balcony. We paid for orchestra seats—he told me—and we’re going down and sit in that orchestra. So he took my hand and we went downstairs and he told the usher—he was one of those stuck-up fellows—we paid for orchestra seats and we’re going to sit in that orchestra. I miss him so much it’s all I can think about. He never let me go anywhere without him. And then he died last summer.”

15“Where is your home?” Leander asked.

16“Nahant.”

17“Nahant?”

18“Yes. Daddy told me everything.”

19“What do you mean?” Leander said.

20“Daddy told me everything. He told me how you came there after dark, like thieves, he said, and about how Mr. Whittier paid for everything and how Mother kept me from drinking her wicked milk.”

21“Who are you?” Leander said.

22“I’m your daughter.”

23“Oh no,” Leander said. “You’re lying. You’re a crazy woman. Get out of here.”

24“I’m your daughter.”

25“Oh no,” Leander said. “You’ve thought this all up, you and those people in Nahant. You’ve made it all up. Now get out of my house. Leave me alone.”

26“You walked on the beach,” she said. “Daddy remembered everything so’s you’d believe me and give me money. He even remembered the suit you had. He said you had a plaid suit. He said you walked on the beach and picked up stones.”

27“Get out of my house,” Leander said.

28“I won’t go away from here until you give me money. You never once asked was I living or dead. You never gave me a thought. Now I want some money. After Daddy died I sold the house and I had a little money and then I had to take this work. It’s hard for me. It’s too hard for me. I’m not strong. I’m out in all weathers. I want some money.”

29“I don’t have anything to give you.”

30“That’s what Daddy said. He said you’d try to get out of helping me. Daddy told me that’s what you’d say, but he made me promise to come and see you.” Then she stood and picked up her brief case. “God will be your judge,” she said at the door, “but I know my rights and I can bring you into court and blacken your name.” Then she went down the hall and when she got to the door Leander called after her, “Wait, wait, wait, please,” and went down the hall. “I can give you something,” he said. “I have a few things left. I have a jade watch fob and a golden chain and I can show you your mother’s grave. It’s in the village.”

31“I would spit on it,” she said. “I would spit on it.” Then she went out of the house to where the taxi was waiting and drove away.