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re was abundant heraldry of rugged power and ox…like vitality。 I have seen a bronze head of Daniel Webster which； with a full blonde beard and an ample covering of grey hair would have given one a fairly perfect idea of the look of John Trumbull。 Imagine it on a tall； and powerful body and let it speak with a voice that has in it the deep and musical vibration one may hear in the looing of an ox and you shall see； as perfectly as my feeble words can hdp you to do； this remarkable man who； must； hereafter； play before you his part … compared to which mine is as the prattle of a child … in this drama of God's truth。
'You have not heard；'said Mrs Fuller addressing me； 'how Mr Trumbull saved Hope's life。'
'Saved Hope's life！'I exclaimed。
'Saved her life；'she repeated； 'there isn t a doubt of it。 We never sent word of it for fear it would give you all needless worry。 It was a day of last winter … fell crossing Broadway； a dangerous place' he pulled her aside just in time … the horse's feet were raised above her … she would have been crushed in a moment He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the sidewalk not a bit the worse for it。
'Seems as if it were fate；'said Hope。 'I had seen him so often and wondered who he was。 I recall a night when I had to come home alone from rehearsal。 I was horribly afraid。 I remember passing him under a street lamp。 If he had spoken to me； then； I should have dropped with fear and he would have had to carry me home that time。
'It's an odd thing a girl like you should ever have to walk home alone；'said Mr Fuller。 'Doesn't speak well for our friend Livingstone or Burnham there or Dobbs。
'Mrs Fuller doesn't give us half a chance；'said Livingstone； 'she guards her day and night。 It's like the monks and the Holy Grail。
'Hope is independent of the young men；'said Mrs Fuller as we rose from the table。 'If I cannot go with her myself； in the carriase； I always send a maid or a manservant to walk home with her。 But Mr Fuller and I were out of town that night and the young men missed their great opportunity。
'Had a differ nt way o'sparkin'years ago；'said Unde Eb。 'Didn t never hey if please anybody but the girl then。 If ye liked a girl ye went an'sot up with her an'gin her a smack an'tol'her right out plain an'square what ye wanted。 An'thet settled it one way er t other。 An'her mother she step'in the next room with the door half…open an'never paid no 'tention。 Recollec'one col'night when I was sparkin'the mother hollered out o'bed； 〃Lucy； hey ye got anythin 'round ye？〃 an'she hollered back； 〃Yis； mother；〃 an'she hed too but 'twan't nothin'but my arm。'
They laughed merrily； over the quaint reminiscence of my old friend and the quainter way he had of telling it。 The rude dialect of the backwoodsman might have seemed oddly out of place； there； but for the quiet； unassuming manner and the fine old face of Uncle Eb in which the dullest eye might see the soul of a gentleman。
'What became of Lucy？'Mr Fuller enquired； laughingly。 'You never married her。'
'Lucy died；'he answered soberly； 'thet was long； long ago。'
Then he went away with John Trumbull to the smoking…room where I found them； talking earnestly in a corner； when it was time to go to the church with Hope。
Chapter 30
Hope and Uncle Eb and I went away in a coach with Mrs Fuller。 There was a great crowd in the church that covered； with sweeping arches； an interior more vast than any I had ever entered。 Hope was gowned in white silk； a crescent of diamonds in her hair … a birthday gift from Mrs Fuller； her neck and a part of her full breast unadorned by anything save the gifts of God … their snowy whiteness； their lovely curves。
First Henry Cooper came on with his violin … a great master as I now remember him。 Then Hope ascended to the platform； her dainty kid slippers showing under her gown； and the odious Livingstone escorting her。 I was never so madly in love or so insanely jealous。 I must confess it for I am trying to tell the whole truth of myself'I was a fool。 And it is the greater folly that one says ever 'I was；'and never 'I am'in that plea。 I could even see it myself then and there； but I was so great a fool I smiled and spoke fairly to the young man although I could have wrung his neck with rage。 There was a little stir and a passing whisper in the crowd as she stood waiting for the prelude。 Then she sang the ballad of Auld Robin Grey … not better than I had heard her sing it before； but so charmingly there were murmurs of delight going far and wide in the audience when she had finished。 Then she sang the fine melody of 'Angels ever Bright and Fair ； and again the old ballad she and I had heard first from the violin of poor Nick Goodall。
By yon bonnie bank an'by yon bonnie bonnie brae The sun shines bright on Loch Lomond Where me an'me true love were ever won't if gae On the bonnie； bonnie bank o'Loch Lomond。
Great baskets of roses were handed to her as she came down from the platform and my confusion was multiplied by their number for I had not thought to bring any myself。
I turned to Uncle Eb who； now and then； had furtively wiped his eyes。 'My stars！'he whispered； 'ain't itreemarkable grand！ Never heard ner seen nothin'like thet in all my born days。 An't'think it's my little Hope。
He could go no further。 His handkerchief was in his hand while he took refuge in silence。
Going home the flowers were heaped upon our laps and I； with Hope beside me； felt some restoration of comfort。
'Did you see Trumbull？'Mrs Fuller asked。 'He sat back of us and did seem to enjoy it so much … your singing。 He was almost cheerful。
'Tell me about Mr Trumbull；'I said。 'He is interesting。
'Speculator；'said Mrs Fuller。 'A strange man； successful； silent； unmarried and； I think； in love。 Has beautiful rooms they say on Gramercy Park。 Lives alone with an old servant。 We got to know him through the accident。 Mr Fuller and he have done business together … a great deal of it since then。 Operates in the stock market。
A supper was waiting for us at home and we sat a long time at the table。 I was burning for a talk with Hope but how was I to manage it？ We rose with the others and went and sat down together in a corner of the great parlour。 We talked of that night at the White Church in Faraway when we heard Nick Goodall play and she had felt the beginning of a new life。
'I've heard how well you did last year；'she said； 'and how nice you were to the girls。 A friend wrote me all about it。 How attentive you were to that little Miss Brown！
'But decently polite；'I answered。 'One has to have somebody or … or be a monk。
'One has to have somebody！'she said； quickly； as she picked at thc flower on her bosom and looked down at it soberly。 'That is true one has to have somebody and； you know； I haven t had any lack of company myself。 By the way； I have news to tell you。
She spoke slowly and in a low voice with a touch of sadness in it。 I felt the colour mounting to my face。
'News！'I repeated。 'What news； I…lope？
'I am going away to England；'she said； 'with Mrs Fuller if … if mother will let me。 I wish you would write and ask her to let me go。
I was unhorsed。 What to say I knew not； what it meant I could vaguely imagine。 There was a moment of awkward silence。
'Of course I will ask her if you wish to go；'I said。 'When do you sail？
'They haven t fixed the day yet。
She sat looking down at her fan； a beautiful； filmy thing between braces of ivory。 Her knees were crossed； one dainty foot showing under ruffles of lace。 I looked at her a moment dumb with admiration。
'What a big man you have grown to be Will；'she said presently。 'I am almost afraid of you now。
She was still looking down at the fan and that little foot was moving nervously。 Now was my time。 I began framing an avowal。 I felt a wild impulse to throw my strong arms about her and draw her close to me and feel the pink velvet of her fair face upon mine。 ff1 had only done it！ But what with the strangeness and grandeur of that big room； the voices of the others who were sitting in the library； near by； the mystery of the spreading crinoline that was pressing upon my knees； I had not half the courage of a lover。
'My fr