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Basics of Web Design HTML5 &
CSS
Sixth Edition
Basics of Web Design HTML5 &
CSS
Sixth Edition

Terry Ann Felke-Morris, Ed.D.

Professor Emerita

Harper College
Content Development: Tracy Johnson

Content Management: Dawn Murrin, Tracy Johnson

Content Production: Carole Snyder

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Felke-Morris, Terry, author.

Title: Basics of web design : HTML5 & CSS / Terry Ann Felke-Morris,
Ed.D., Professor Emerita.

Description: Sixth edition. | Hoboken : Pearson, 2022.

Identifiers: LCCN 2020030388 | ISBN 9780137313266 (Print Offer) | ISBN

9780137313211 (Rental)

Subjects: LCSH: HTML (Document markup language) | Cascading style

sheets. |

Web site development--Computer programs. | Web sites--Design.

Classification: LCC QA76.76.H94 F455 2020 | DDC 006.7/4--dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020030388

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Preface
Basics of Web Design: HTML5 & CSS is intended for use in a beginning web

design or web development course. Topics are introduced in two-page

sections that focus on key points and often include a hands-on practice
exercise. The text covers the basics that web designers need to develop

their skills:

Introductory Internet and World Wide Web concepts

Creating web pages with HTML5

Configuring text, color, and page layout with Cascading Style Sheets

Configuring images and multimedia on web pages

Exploring CSS Flexbox and CSS Grid layout systems

Web design best practices

Creating responsive web pages that display well on both desktop and

mobile devices

Accessibility, usability, and search engine optimization considerations

Obtaining a domain name and a web host

Publishing to the Web

Student files include solutions to the Hands-On Practice exercises, starter

files for the Hands-On Practice exercises, and the starter files for the Case

Study. The eText offers student file downloads by chapter (where used)

wiithin each chapter introduction. Student files are also available for

download from the companion website for this book at

www.pearson.com/felke-morris.

Building on this textbook’s successful fifth edition, the sixth edition

features:
 Additional Hands-On Practice exercises

Updated code samples, case studies, and web resources

Updates for HTML5 elements and attributes

Expanded treatment of page layout design and responsive web design

techniques

Expanded treatment of CSS Flexible Layout Module (Flexbox) and

CSS Grid Layout systems

Expanded coverage of responsive image techniques including lazy

loading

Updated reference sections for HTML5 and CSS

Features of the Text

Design for Today and Tomorrow

The textbook prepares students to design web pages that work today in

addition to being ready to take advantage of new HTML5 and CSS coding

techniques of the future.

Well-Rounded Selection of Topics

This text includes both “hard” skills such as HTML5 and Cascading Style

Sheets (Chapters 1 –2  and 4 –11 ) and “soft” skills such as web
design (Chapter 3 ) and publishing to the Web (Chapter 12 ). This well-

rounded foundation will help students as they pursue careers as web

professionals. Students and instructors will find classes more interesting

because they can discuss, integrate, and apply both hard and soft skills as
students create web pages and websites. The topics in each chapter are
typically-introduced on concise two-page sections that are intended to

provide quick overviews and timely practice with the topic.

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Two-Page Topic Sections
Most topics are introduced in a concise, two-page section. Many sections
also include immediate hands-on practice of the new skill or concept.

This approach is intended to appeal to your busy students—especially the

millennial multitaskers—who need to drill down to the important

concepts right away.

Hands-On Practice
Web design is a skill, and skills are best learned by hands-on practice.
This text emphasizes hands-on practice through practice exercises within

the chapters, end-of-chapter exercises, and the development of a website

through ongoing real-world case studies. This variety exercises provides

instructors with a choice of assignments for a particular course or

semester.

Website Case Study

There are case studies that continue throughout most of the text
(beginning at Chapter 2 ). The case studies serve to reinforce skills

discussed in each chapter. Sample solutions to the case study exercises

are available on the Instructor Resource Center available through

https://pearsonhighered.com/felke.

Focus on Web Design

Every chapter offers an additional activity that explores web design topics
related to the chapter. These activities can be used to reinforce, extend,

and enhance the course topics.

FAQs
In her web design courses, the author is frequently asked similar
questions by students. They are included in the book and are marked

with the identifying FAQ icon.

Focus on Accessibility
Developing accessible websites is more important than ever, and this text
is infused with accessibility techniques throughout. The special icon
shown here makes accessibility information easy to find.

Focus on Ethics
Ethical issues related to web development are highlighted throughout the
text with the special ethics icon shown here.

Quick Tips
Quick tips, which provide useful background information, or help with
productivity, are indicated with this Quick Tip icon.

Explore Further
The special icon identifies enrichment topics along with web resources

useful for delving deeper into a concept introduced in book.

Reference Materials
The appendices offer reference material, including an HTML5 reference, a

Cascading Style Sheets reference, a WCAG 2.1 Quick Reference, an

overview of ARIA Landmark Roles and a Web Safe Color Palette.
VideoNotes
VideoNotes are Pearson’s visual tool designed for teaching students key
programming concepts and techniques. These short step-by-step videos

demonstrate how to solve problems from design through coding.

VideoNotes allow for self-placed instruction with easy navigation
including the ability to select, play, rewind, fast-forward, and stop within
each VideoNote exercise. Margin icons in your textbook let you know
when a VideoNote video is available for a particular concept or hands-on

practice.

Supplemental Materials

Student Resources
Student resources provide both reinforcement and practice of new

concepts and skills include:

VideoNotes
Student Files containing the following:

Hands-On Practice starter files

Hands-On Practice solutions
Case Study starter files

Author’s Website
In addition to the publisher’s companion website for this book, the author
maintains a website at https://www.webdevbasics.net. This website
contains a page for each chapter with additional resources and updates.

This website is not supported by the publisher.

Acknowledgments
Very special thanks go to the people at Pearson, including Tracy Johnson,
Carole Snyder, Scott Disanno, and Erin Sullivan.

Most of all, I would like to thank my family for their patience and
encouragement. My wonderful husband, Greg Morris, has been a
constant source of love, understanding, support, and encouragement.
Thank you, Greg! A big shout-out to my children, James and Karen, who

grew up thinking that everyone’s Mom had their own website. Thank you
both for your understanding, patience, and timely suggestions. Finally, a
very special dedication to the memory of my father who will be greatly
missed.

About the Author

Dr. Terry Ann Felke-Morris is a Professor Emerita at Harper College in
Palatine, Illinois. She holds a Doctor of Education degree, a Master of

Science degree in information systems, and numerous certifications,

including Adobe Certified Dreamweaver 8 Developer, WOW Certified
Associate Webmaster, Microsoft Certified Professional, Master CIW
Designer, and CIW Certified Instructor.

Dr. Felke-Morris received the Blackboard Greenhouse Exemplary Online

Course Award in 2006 for use of Internet technology in the academic
environment. She is the recipient of two international awards: the
Instructional Technology Council’s Outstanding e-Learning Faculty

Award for Excellence and the MERLOT Award for Exemplary Online
Learning Resources—MERLOT Business Classics.

With more than 25 years of information technology experience in

business and industry, Dr. Felke-Morris published her first website in
1996 and has been working with the Web ever since. A long-time
promoter of web standards, she was a member of the Web Standards
Project Education Task Force. Dr. Felke-Morris is the author of the

popular textbook Web Development and Design Foundations with HTML5,

currently in its tenth edition. She was instrumental in developing the
Web Development degree and certificate programs at Harper College. For
more information about Dr. Terry Ann Felke-Morris, visit https://

terrymorris.net.
Contents
Chapter 1 Internet and Web Basics 1 

The Internet and the Web 2 

Web Standards and Accessibility 4 

Web Browsers and Web Servers 6 

Internet Protocols 8 

Uniform Resource Identifiers and Domain Names 10 

Information on the Web 14 

HTML Overview 16 

Under the Hood of a Web Page 18 

Your First Web Page 20 

Review and Apply 24 

Chapter 2 HTML Basics 27 

Heading Element 28 

Paragraph Element 30 

Line Break and Horizontal Rule 32 

Blockquote Element 34 

Phrase Element 36 

Ordered List 38 

Unordered List 40 

Description List 42 
 Special Entity Characters 44 

HTML Syntax Validation 46 

Structural Elements 48 

Practice with Structural Elements 50 

More Structural Elements 52 

Anchor Element 54 

Practice with Hyperlinks 56 

E-Mail Hyperlinks 60 

Review and Apply 62 

Chapter 3 Web Design Basics 71 

Your Target Audience 72 

Website Organization 74 

Principles of Visual Design 76 

Design to Provide for Accessibility 78 

Use of Text 80 

Web Color Palette 82 

Design for Your Target Audience 84 

Choosing a Color Scheme 86 

Use of Graphics and Multimedia 90 

More Design Considerations 92 

Navigation Design 94 

Wireframes and Page Layout 96 

 Fixed and Fluid Layouts 98 

Design for the Mobile Web 100 

Responsive Web Design 102 

Web Design Best Practices Checklist 104 

Review and Apply 106 

Chapter 4 Cascading Style Sheets Basics 111 

Cascading Style Sheets Overview 112 

CSS Selectors and Declarations 114 

CSS Syntax for Color Values 116 

Configure Inline CSS 118 

Configure Embedded CSS 120 

Configure External CSS 122 

CSS Selectors: Class, Id, and Descendant 124 

Span Element 126 

Practice with CSS 128 

The Cascade 130 

Practice with the Cascade 132 

CSS Syntax Validation 134 

Review and Apply 136 

Chapter 5 Graphics & Text Styling Basics 143 

Graphics on the Web 144 

Img Element 148 

 Image Hyperlinks 150 

Configure Background Images 152 

Position Background Images 154 

CSS Multiple Background Images 156 

Fonts with CSS 158 

CSS Text Properties 160 

Practice with Graphics and Text 162 

Configure List Markers with CSS 164 

The Favorites Icon 166 

Image Maps 168 

Figure and Figcaption Elements 170 

Review and Apply 172 

Chapter 6 More CSS Basics 181 

Width and Height with CSS 182 

The Box Model 184 

Margin and Padding with CSS 186 

Borders with CSS 188 

CSS Rounded Corners 190 

Center Page Content with CSS 192 

CSS Box Shadow and Text Shadow 194 

CSS Background Clip and Origin 196 

CSS Background Resize and Scale 198 

 Practice with CSS Properties 200 

CSS Opacity 202 

CSS RGBA Color 204 

CSS HSLA Color 206 

CSS Gradients 208 

Review and Apply 210 

Chapter 7 Page Layout Basics 219 

Normal Flow 220 

Float 222 

Clear a Float 224 

Overflow 226 

CSS Box Sizing 228 

Basic Two-Column Layout 230 

Vertical Navigation with an Unordered List 234 

Horizontal Navigation with an Unordered List 236 

CSS Interactivity with Pseudo-Classes 238 

Practice with CSS Two-Column Layout 240 

CSS for Print 242 

CSS Sprites 244 

Positioning with CSS 246 

Fixed Position Navigation Bar 250 

Fragment Identifiers 252 

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 Single Page Website 254 

Review and Apply 256 

Chapter 8 Responsive Layout Basics 265 

CSS Flexible Box Layout 266 

More About Flex Containers 268 

Flexbox Image Gallery 270 

Configure Flex Items 272 

Practice with Flexbox 274 

CSS Grid Layout 276 

Grid Columns, Rows, and Gap 278 

Two-Column Grid Page Layout 280 

Layout with Grid Areas 284 

Progressive Enhancement with Grid 288 

Centering with Flexbox and Grid 290 

Viewport Meta Tag 292 

CSS Media Queries 294 

Responsive Layout with Media Queries 296 

Responsive Grid Layout with Media Queries 300 

Flexible Images with CSS 304 

Picture Element 306 

Responsive Img Element Attributes 308 

Testing Mobile Display 310 

 Review and Apply 312 

Chapter 9 Table Basics 325 

Table Overview 326 

Table Rows, Cells, and Headers 328 

Span Rows and Columns 330 

Configure an Accessible Table 332 

Style a Table with CSS 334 

CSS Structural Pseudo-classes 336 

Configure Table Sections 338 

Review and Apply 340 

Chapter 10 Form Basics 347 

Form Overview 348 

Input Element and Text Box 350 

Submit Button and Reset Button 352 

Check Box and Radio Button 354 

Textarea Element 356 

Select Element and Option Element 358 

Label Element 360 

Fieldset Element and Legend Element 362 

Style a Form with CSS 364 

Form Layout with CSS Grid 366 

Server-Side Processing 368 

 Practice with a Form 370 

Password, Hidden, and File Upload Controls 372 

More Text Form Controls 374 

Datalist Element 376 

Slider and Spinner Controls 378 

Date and Color-Well Controls 380 

More Form Practice 382 

Review and Apply 384 

Chapter 11 Media and Interactivity Basics 395 

Getting Started with Audio and Video 396 

Audio Element and Source Element 398 

Video Element and Source Element 400 

Practice with Video 402 

Iframe Element 404 

CSS Transform Property 406 

CSS Transition Property 408 

Practice with Interactivity 410 

CSS Drop-Down Menu 412 

Details Element and Summary Element 414 

JavaScript & jQuery 416 

HTML5 APIs 418 

Review and Apply 420 

Chapter 12 Web Publishing Basics 427 

File Organization 428 

Register a Domain Name 430 

Choose a Web Host 432 

Secure Sockets Layer (SSL) 434 

Publish with File Transfer Protocol 436 

Search Engine Submission 438 

Search Engine Optimization 440 

Accessibility Testing 442 

Usability Testing 444 

Review and Apply 446 

Appendix
HTML5 Cheat Sheet 450 

CSS Cheat Sheet 455 

WCAG 2.1 Quick Reference 463 

Landmark Roles with ARIA 465 

Web Safe Color Palette 467 

Index 468

Credits 484 
VideoNotes
Locations of VideoNotes

www.pearson.com/felke-morris

Chapter 1 Internet and Web Basics 

Evolution of the Web 3 

Your First Web Page 20 

Chapter 2 HTML Basics 

HTML Validation 46 

Chapter 3 Web Design Basics 

Principles of Visual Design 76 

Chapter 4 Cascading Style Sheets Basics 

External Style Sheets 122 

CSS Validation 134 

Chapter 5 Graphics & Text Styling Basics 

Background Images 154 

Chapter 6 More CSS Basics 

CSS Rounded Corners 190 

Chapter 7 Page Layout Basics 

Interactivity with CSS Pseudo-Classes 238 

Linking to a Named Fragment 252 

Chapter 8 Responsive Layout Basics 

CSS Grid Layout 280 

Chapter 9 Table Basics 

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 CHAPTER XIII.
If Fritz had not heard the appeals which the frantic Melville made to
him, they had reached other ears, and summoned the help which
the crippled lad was so impotent to render.
Rosetta Perkins, “mistress of the interior,” as Octave called her when
Aunt Ruth had reported her mother’s decision concerning the
household heads, during the sea-shore sojourn,—Rosetta Perkins
had come to Melville’s quarter of the house for the express purpose
of hearing his capricious desires concerning his supper.
Rosetta was conscientious in the discharge of her duties, and had
already done more cooking than would have sufficed a family twice
as large, in her fear lest these young charges of hers should not get
enough to eat. Eat! How they did eat! All except Melville; and
because he did not, the good Rosetta was worried and full of self-
blame.
But, for the first time, his fitful appetite proved a blessing, since it
brought upon the scene, in their extremity of need, a person to
rescue the two boys.
“To the land sakes! What on airth is Melville a-hollerin’ so fer!”
Rosetta quickened her footsteps, but as the cries died for a moment,
loitered for an instant to set straight a misplaced chair, and tidy the
furniture which showed the careless fingers of youth.
The cries, that were almost shrieks in their intensity of terror,
recommenced.
“Why, that ain’t spunk! That’s something worse ’an that! What can
have happened to him!” Mrs. Perkins flew to the door, wondering to
find it closed, and rebounding, as she threw her force against it,
from its unyielding surface. She tried the latch, and found the bolt
had been slipped. The cries ceased again.
“I’m a-comin’, Melville. I’ll run around to the other door.”
Only to meet with fresh disappointment; and, in her wonder and
distress, Mrs. Perkins began to shake the door vigorously. “Ain’t
there nobody in there with ye? How did ye get locked in? Never
mind; I’ll get it open somehow. I warrant it’s some o’ them childern’s
pranks,” she added, under her breath. Then she tried the latch
anew.
She began to be seriously alarmed. She ran to the hall window, and
saw Luke mowing the lawn. After repeated efforts, she made her
voice audible above that of the noisy little machine so close to his
ear. He looked up and saw her frantic motions even before he heard
her summons.
Luke had a soul above lawn-mowers, and always on the alert for
excitement. He was at the hall window in a trice.
“Come into the house as quick as ye kin, Luke! Melville’s doors is
both locked fast, an’ he’s been a-hollerin’ like all possessed. Now
he’s stopped; but say—don’t you smell nothin’ kinder queer?”
Luke sniffed, and made up such a horrid face in doing so that
Christina, who had appeared behind Mrs. Perkins, laughed. “What is
the matter, Rosetta? Octave made me come and see. She says
somebody has been holloaing this ever so long, but I thought it was
somebody out in the field.”
“Then ain’t you ner Octavy in Melville’s room?”
“Why, no! Abraham carried Octave out to the hammock after dinner,
and I have been with her.”
“Where’s Content? An’ Pauly?”
“Gone to the post-office in the pony-cart.”
“Little Fritzy?”
“I don’t know, I’m sure,” answered poor Christina, her gentle face
growing very pale and terrified.
“Then there’s sunthin’ turrible to pay! Smash that door open, Luke!”
“Smash the door? I dassent!”
“Smash it, I tell ye! I’ll bear the blame, if there is any!”
Luke tried an ineffective blow, and Mrs. Perkins grew more excited.
“Luke Tewksbury! Smash it! That there smell’s chloroform! I know it;
I kin almost taste it! I hain’t handled the stuff as many times as I
have, a-rubbin’ Melville’s poor body, ’ithout lamin’ the smell.
Sunthin’s happened to the bottle on it, an’ one, mebbe both, o’ them
boys is shet up behind thet door! Now—will ye smash it?”
A terrific blow of his mighty fist was Luke’s effective answer, and the
panel gave way.
With a swiftness and coolness one would scarcely have looked for in
Rosetta Perkins’s case, since Ruth had called her a “good woman
without any head-piece,” the housekeeper thrust her hand through
the break in the wood, and unfastened the bolt. Every movement
she made told in effect, as she almost flew across the apartment,
dashed open the windows, drew the bolt and opened the bedroom
door, and caught up a pitcher of water to throw it upon Melville’s
face.
The air was nauseous with fumes of the drug, but it was less that
which had overcome the invalid than horror at his own deed, and its
awful result. With the thought that little Fritz had been the victim of
his would-be scientific experiment, his weak nerves had given way;
but his last conscious thought had been: “Cripple or not, I must save
him!”
It seemed that the power of this determination was already bringing
him out of his swoon, for the water had scarcely reached his face
before he opened his eyes. Instantly they filled with terror. “The
closet! The closet! Open the closet!”
“What—which closet?” asked Rosetta, trembling.
“Open it—open it, quick! Maybe he isn’t dead!”
Mrs. Perkins’s sight swam. The reality seemed worse than she had
feared. But Christina had heard and understood the appeal, and flew
to the inner door.
“The other—the other!” directed Melville’s agonized voice.
Luke was beforehand with her, and even his strong physique was for
an instant overcome by the pungency of the odor which filled his
nostrils. He staggered for a step or two, and then, as the little girl
was darting forward, he put her gently aside and stooped down to
lift the small figure, which the light now made visible, from its
resting-place upon the closet floor.
There was one brief word of command: “The doctor”; and Luke had
flown to obey it. Then, forgetting utterly for that terrible moment the
suffering boy upon the lounge, the housekeeper bore her inert
burden straight out of doors, and to the old well in the garden.
She could not have done better; but she was still working and
chafing the rounded little limbs, which had before seemed all too
active, and praying over her task with the devout fervor of her
warm, believing heart, when Luke reappeared with the doctor.
“Oh! how glad I am! I didn’t dream you would get here so quick!”
“I was just driving down the road. And well that I was,” added the
physician gravely.
It was three hours after that when he went away, even then
promising to return again before midnight; but, when he did leave
The Snuggery for a brief time, it was with the hopeful assurance that
“if nothing unforeseen occurred,” the little fellow would be none the
worse for his dangerous experience.
“Such a world of joy or pain hangs on that little ‘if!’” exclaimed poor
Paula, between her sobs.
For once, Content’s ready word of comfort failed her; and she could
not utter that “it is all for the best,” which seemed such a truism in
the presence of this anxiety. She could see no “best” which might be
extracted from that afternoon’s misfortune; and she could only fold
her sympathetic arms about the cousin whom, till now, she had
thought so cold of heart, and let her tears mingle with Paula’s.
It was the wisest and kindest thing she could have done. Paula had
nourished a mistaken notion that her “perfect Cousin Content”
considered herself infinitely superior to the worldly and frivolous
“Miss Pickel,” whose main interests in life appeared to be dress and
the supervision of her neighbors’ manners.
The truth was simply that each girl was to the other a new and
uncomprehended type. Octave had early nicknamed the one
“Beauty,” the other “Duty”; and, unlike as they were, it took just
such a sorrow to break away the outer form of habit and training,
and show the warm, friendly hearts beneath.
The lonely, only child, Content, had become very fond of little Fritz,
and the genuineness of her feeling touched the sister who watched
so anxiously beside him. A half-hour of this common grief did more
to make them know and love each other than had all their previous
weeks of daily intercourse.
But the “best” was still in it all, even if hidden from sight just then;
and it was destined to work a blessed change not only in that
household but in many another, to which its after effects should
reach.
 CHAPTER XIV.
For some days after this affair, the “pickles” remained quietly in their
“jar,” as Octave laughingly called the great house, wherein they were
all gathered at nightfall, no matter how widely they scattered
themselves by day.
Content had a fine camera, and considerable skill in using it; so that
on all possible occasions she was away over the mountains, taking
“views” of this or that place, which her father had described to her
as being dear to him in his boyhood. Bulky letters were regularly
sent to Osaka, and in each there was some new glimpse of familiar
scenes, which the missionary welcomed eagerly.
But this delightful occupation, as well as Paula’s “art” work,
Christina’s lessons, and Melville’s “experiments,” were discontinued
while the child who was the “life of the house” remained drooping,
and showing any effects of his accident.
Octave had nearly recovered the use of her nimble feet, and had,
long before the doctor advised it, begun to use the broken arm. The
one thing which was impossible to the active girl was quiet; and one
morning she announced to the physician that her arm was “mended
better than the original,” and that she was going to “help Melville do
up some beetles.”
Christina was at that very hour assisting Rosetta to “do up”
gooseberries; and the difference in the choice of occupations
showed perfectly the difference in the sisters.
Doctor Winslow smiled. He had congratulated himself upon having
kept his uneasy charge still as long as he had; and, indeed, he
would have found this far more difficult had not the condition of Fritz
engrossed all their thoughts. However, that very morning the little
fellow had come down to breakfast with the rest, and insisted upon
it that “Paula should stop making believe he was sick when he
wasn’t no such thing, so there; and he was going out to have a
tussle with Don.”
“’Twon’t hurt him a mite,” remarked Rosetta, when Christina had
reported Fritzy’s daring proposal to her. “Thar ain’t ben nothin’ the
matter with him, anyhow, ’cept his losin’ his senses. I’ve ben a
thinkin’ this couple o’ days ’at ye’d all make the child sick with your
cossetin’ him an’ feedin’ him trash. Let him try the donkey; he won’t
get fur, ner overheat hisself a-ridin’.”
So Fritz marched boldly up to the aged burro, and essayed to saddle
him. All offers of aid in this matter had been haughtily rejected, and
nothing could so easily have convinced them all that their darling
was quite himself again as his amusing little swagger.
“Pooh! Must think I’m nobody! Here I have been a-drivin’ that mare
of mine away down the mountain, and back; an’ you folks think I
can’t saddle a silly old donk! Pooh! I’ll show you!”
The show that he did afford them was certainly a funny one, though
not of the kind the little lad himself intended.
From his lonely room, Melville heard the fun, and distinctly
recognized the voice of his small cousin. The sound of it in happy
activity again was sweet to his ears, for he had never ceased to
regret his unintentional injury of the child. Octave had noticed this
change more than any of the others, and wondered at first what
“had come over Melville to be so like other folks”; and, being of a
nature opposed to secrecy, had promptly asked him.
“Well, I tell you, Octave; I had a big scare. What if—no matter, he’s
all right again, you say; and one thing I mean to do: I mean to think
more about other people and less about myself.”
He had said this shamefacedly, as if he did not feel sure of himself,
but did feel sure of her ridicule.
It came swiftly on the heels of his confession.
“That’s all nonsense, Melville Capers. ‘You are no saint, and you
needn’t pose for one.’ You have worried everybody about you ever
since you were born, and you will go on worrying somebody to the
end. I don’t take any stock in your talk. You’re a little scared over
what you’ve done; but soon as Fritzy is all right again you’ll be just
as disagreeable as ever.”
“You’re a hateful girl!”
“There! I told you so! Don’t, for goodness’ sake,—yes, for goodness’
real sake,—don’t ever tell anybody that you mean to be ‘unselfish.’
He or she won’t believe you, to begin with; and if they suspect your
intention they will watch you to see the miracle. Talk is the most
inexpensive thing in the world. I used to tell how good I would be,
and then Paula would fix her big eyes on me and stare, every time I
did any mean little thing. Even Fritzy Nunky would put me all out by
taking me at my word. He’d look so surprised when I wasn’t a saint
right away quick. Then I’d get mad, and the last state of that girl
was worse than the first. If Content heard me quote that, she’d look
at me in pious horror; and yet I mean it. No, Melville; take the
advice of one who has had experience, don’t lay that sweet unction
of ‘going to be’ to your soul. ‘Going to be’ never comes. It’s like the
poetry talk about ‘there is no to-morrow.’ And there isn’t.”
“Ancient maiden, what would you recommend?” asked the invalid,
his anger disarmed by finding Octave so promptly ready to embark
in the same boat of shortcomings with himself.
“The only thing I have ever found amounted to anything was just
keeping busy, as busy as busy! If I keep doing something, I don’t
have so much time to be bad.”
“Yes, but”—objected the repulsed aspirant after unselfishness.
“Here, I’ll roll your lounge over there by the window. Then you can
see the fun. That’ll be better for you than moping over your own
‘goings to be!’”
Octave set to work; but her arm was not so strong as she thought it,
and her lame ankle interfered with her freedom of movement.
Suddenly she stumbled and sat down on the floor, “with a pretty
conside’ble of a bang,” as Rosetta would have said.
“I’m sorry, Octave. Don’t try again. I don’t mind.” The tone was so
genuine that the girl opened her eyes which she had closed in a
comical grimace of pain.
“Why—why, Melville!”
“Why what?” asked he, testily.
“I believe you mean it!”
“I—but you said something about talk being cheap.”
“Inexpensive, dear. I’m trying to form myself after an approved
model, of polysyllables. Paula has really been so faithful to little Fritz
that I thought she would be pleased with me if I was correct. She
wasn’t, though. When I put on my prettiest airs she looked at me
and said,—as only Paula can say things,—‘Octave, don’t be foolish!’
It was a disappointment: but with your example before me I’ll
persevere.”
The girl had rattled on in her nonsense talk till the pain in her ankle
abated so that she could pull herself up, and make a fresh effort.
Another burst of gayety sounded through the window, and, with a
final push, she sent Melville’s heavy lounge rolling across the room,
to bring up against the wall with a crash.
“I meant to do it, ‘er bust,’ as Abry-ham says. What do you think he
calls me now?”
“‘Octavy—why, Octavy!’” promptly replied her cousin.
“Wrong! I am now ‘Hoppity-pat.’ That’s what I call making sport of
one’s infirmities.” The girl perched herself upon the window-ledge
and watched the scene out of doors with keen enjoyment, that was
enhanced by the thought that her bed-ridden cousin could also
witness it.
Early in their acquaintance Fritz had tried cajolery with the ancient
burro who lived at his ease on the rich pastures of The Snuggery
farm, and had made many attempts to ride him; but the overtures
had not been met in a friendly spirit. Then Fritz’s temper had
aroused.
“I will ride that homely old thing with a head as big as its body, so
there! He looks like grandmother’s old hair-trunk, up in the attic,
with sticks for legs.”
But appearances are often deceitful. Don’s look of dejection did not
cover a meek or subdued spirit. He opposed his “won’t” to Fritzy’s
“will” with a persistence that was discouraging. On the boy’s part,
however, fresh attempts were as persistently made; and on this
occasion seemed to promise success.
Fritz had achieved a mount. He sat with fat little legs extending at
right angles from the burro’s sides, trembling, but flushed with
victory.
Suddenly, Don raised his hind quarters.
Fritz would have gone over the animal’s head but for the firm hold
he had of his neck.
Don tried sitting down. Fritz stood up, but still astride of the donkey,
and still holding on with all his might.
Then the quadruped turned his head and—so Fritz ever afterward
believed—actually winked at his determined rider; immediately rising
on all fours and setting off on a trot such as his venerable limbs had
not attempted for years.
Around and around the grass plot he raced, till all at once he
appeared to collapse; then he sunk down on the ground, rolled over
on his side, and uttered a pathetic bray, as if his last hour had come.
“I did! I did! I did ride the old thing!” exulted the excited conqueror,
and sped away to boast of his achievement to Abraham.
After this amusing conclusion of the set-to between her little brother
and his victim, Octave’s laughter was checked by an unmistakable
sigh from the boy beside her. She looked quickly around.
“Why, Melville! What is it?”
“To think that I can never do anything that any one else can!”
“Because you are to do that which nobody else can do.”
Melville looked up eagerly; but almost instantly his eye fell again,
and, with the gloom of hopelessness, upon the group without.
“Yes, it is so. I know it. I have thought a way out,” said Octave,
answering his depressed look. “I came in here to make you promise
that you would try it.”
“I shall never try any more experiments after that experience.”
“Not with babies, of course. With a man of science you would.”
“How am I to meet a man of science, here on Deer Hill Mountain,
and I a—cripple?” demanded the other, bitterly.
“Two ways are open: one, the poorest, by correspondence; the other
I can help you to if you will trust me.”
“You?” said Melville; and, in his sincere liking for Octave, he tried not
say it contemptuously.
“Yes—I, young lord of creation; you think I don’t know anything,
don’t you? Well, I don’t, much, and it doesn’t matter, as long as I
know enough to answer your purpose, and besides have the
tremendous honor to be your—cousin! However, I can yet do things
to further your ideas. If I bring you this man of science will you talk
with him, or will you be cantankerous? Mind you, I don’t do it just
for you—but for the good of the world at large. I’m a philanthropist,
in general. I always felt that I was ‘cut out’ for something unusual;
but I didn’t dream it was to be scientific till I became your assistant.
Say, will you?”
“You don’t know any man of science; and—he would laugh at my
‘cheek.’”
“All right. I’ve always sighed for adventure, and now I shall have it. I
feel like a conspirator—and it’s a perfectly exquisite sensation.
Hurrah!”
“Octave Pickel! Are you crazy?”
“No. To prove it I will make you promise me something. I—I had a
letter from Fritzy Nunky to-day.”
The lad’s face changed color. Then he asked:
“Well, what did he say?”
“He is in constant correspondence with the doctor; and that
gentleman hopes to see you within a month.”
Octave’s voice, saying this, was very distinct and firm. It was what
she had really come into the room to say, but after it was spoken
she trembled.
Melville lay with his dark eyes fixed on hers as if he could scarcely
credit his own ears. He was terrified, and yet glad; he depended
upon her to stand by him, and yet he almost hated her for what she
had done. All this Octave read with that keen intuition of hers, and if
her face flushed a little her steadfast gaze did not cease to
encourage him. “O Octave, have you really done it?”
“Really, Melville. The great doctor, the great healer, is surely coming.”
“I—I cannot bear it!” Melville hid his face in his hands and a shudder
passed over his thin frame.
A feeling of contempt for his weakness rose in the girl’s breast, but
was quickly stifled. She forced herself to think of all he had endured,
and that he had never known the happiness of activity. She, herself,
could bear anything, any amount of torture, to be restored to health,
were she in his stead; but Melville had suffered so much! It was a
sign that her own womanly nature was developing in the right
direction that she did remember all this, and that her next words
should have been as wise.
“You can bear it bravely. I know you are no coward. Besides, it will
not be suffering to you, but success. Think, Melville; you said the
other day that you wished for nothing so much as fame. Well, then,
if you are true to yourself in this, all the world will talk of you with
wonder and gratitude. Listen—this is my plan.” The girl pitched her
voice too low for any possible overhearing; but what she said
produced a marvellous effect upon her cousin.
“Oh, if it could be true! But it is too grand, too wonderful!”
“You won’t be ashamed of poor ‘Hoppity-pat,’ then, will you?” asked
Octave, a bit wistfully.
“It is nonsense. It will prove to be good for nothing.”
“Come, you doubter. It’s about as hard to pull you up the hill of faith
as—I don’t know what! Didn’t our last experiment work ‘as slick as
grease?’ à la Abry-ham. Do you suppose I’d have handled all those
frogs and hop-toads, and nasty, slimy other things, if after the first
time I hadn’t had supreme faith in the—unnameable?”
Melville began to catch her enthusiasm. “Octave, if—if—it should be
true, wouldn’t it be glorious?”
“Wouldn’t it? The best of it is that I feel it is. ‘It’s borne in on me,’ as
Rosetta said when she forgot to put any sugar in the jam, and it
wouldn’t jam. Say, Melville, let’s just hurrah!”
“I can’t hurrah, yet. But, Octave, you’re smart! It doesn’t seem as if
you could be a girl, you think of things so.”
“So grandma said, when I rode the kicking horse, bareback, and
forgot to mend my stockings. Which wasn’t ‘thinking of things so,’ it
seems to me. But, remember, if I am so bright, I shall expect my
reward—”
“‘To the half of my kingdom!’” interrupted Melville.
“Humph! Worse than that: you are not to tell a single soul, till the
whole thing is settled. I’d like to be of some importance, for once in
my life.”
“All right. I’ll not breathe a single syllable.”
“Even if I do something you cannot understand?”
“Even so.”
“Good enough! Isn’t it delightful to be—conspirators?”
“I don’t kn-ow,” said the lad, doubtfully.
“Pshaw! I just believe you’d like to let the cat out of the bag now!”
“What difference would it make, any way? If I say I’ll do it, I will. I
won’t back out.”
“It makes all the difference in the world to me. For once I’m in a
Mystery! Right in the very heart of it, spelled with a capital M!
Generally I’m ‘only Octave’; now I’m somebody. I have sighed all my
life long for a romance or something out of the common; now I’ve
attained it. Don’t balk me of my sweet revenge. Think of Paula
Pickel’s face when she hears that ‘only Octave,’ was the very
identical damsel that went—but no matter! Remember that without
me there is no ‘man of science.’”
Melville did remember; and “wild goosey” as the whole affair did
appear, even to him, he was so thoroughly in earnest, now, about it,
and so uplifted by Octave’s adventurous spirit, that he readily
maintained the silence she required.
When, that night, at locking-up-time, Octave had not appeared, and
Paula went to the room the sisters shared in common, hoping to find
the wild-cap safe in bed, although the sheets had been turned down
and then shaken, as if the well-grown lassie could by any possibility
be hiding within them, there was great consternation in the
household.
“She is always up to pranks, but she does not generally treat us
unkindly,” said the aggrieved elder girl, feeling somehow that the
house was not a “Snuggery” without the sharpest of the “pickles.”
“Oh, here is a note!” cried little Christina; who sometimes read a
love-story surreptitiously, and was akin to Octave in her desire for a
“romance.” “I’ve heard Octave say lots of times that sometime she’d
run away, and now I do believe she’s done it! Read it, quick! I found
it on her pincushion. That’s the very place run-awayers always put
notes.”
“Pray, small one, how do you know that?” demanded Content,
demurely. “I believe you’ve been reading Luke’s ‘Story Paper’ again!”
“Well, read it any way,” urged the little girl, in her excitement paying
less heed than usual to Content’s gentle reprimand.
This was the note,——
Friends and Relatives, especially Paula:
I’ve gone, but not for good. I mean I have gone for
good, as you will all know at some future to come. I
haven’t gone yet, but I’m going. I shall come to no
harm, and you need not worry about me. When I
return HE will be with me. That is, I hope HE will. HE
will if my persuasions can prevail. I have money
enough. Having none of my own,—as you all well
know, I spent it for confections,—I have been supplied
with funds by the OTHER CONSPIRATOR in the case. I
do not know when I shall return, but I shall return; for
I am the “bad penny” of the family. Don’t sit up nights,
and don’t worry about me. I am all right, and I shall
“continner on.” Don’t be silly enough to write to Aunt
Ruth, for even she would have no terrors for me, since
I go to seek HIM. So don’t worry about me. Bother!
that’s the third time I have written that perfectly
unnecessary sentence, since she who writes is
“Only Octave.”
P. S. I am in a perfect heaven of delight. I was never a
conspirator before, and I was never in a MYSTERY till
now. I hope I can hatch up one every few days
hereafter, it’s so enchanting. Just think! I, Octave
Pickel, am a heroine!
Good-bye—farewell—addio!
When the note was carried to Melville, and his opinion asked, he
burst into the merriest laugh that the astonished household had ever
heard from him.
“I believe that you know all about it! You two have been together a
great deal of late. If you do, you must tell us. Where is Octave?”
cried poor Paula, all in a tremble of fright and eagerness.
But all the answer Melville gave, though he did it with the same
unwonted mirthfulness was, “I don’t know.”
 CHAPTER XV.
The ways of cabmen are similar, the civilized world over; and it did
not confuse Octave as it would a less accustomed traveller to have a
number of these enterprising Jehus rush for her little hand-bag, as
she emerged from the great station, and stood for a moment looking
about her.
She had been half over Europe in company with her Uncle Fritz, who
never liked to journey anywhere alone, and who found the sturdy
Octave his least troublesome “pickle” whenever he was minded to
refresh himself with the presence of any of them. Besides, the girl
had the great gift of observation. If she had once seen a thing she
never forgot it; all its little details had impressed themselves upon
her memory with the distinctness of a photograph.
She had visited the great building where she had left the train but
once before, and that once when, in company with her guardian,
she had passed through it on her journey to Deer Hill. Yet so keenly
had she observed her surroundings, that she knew directly which
way to turn for a certain kind-faced policeman, whom she had seen
befriend a little girl while she was waiting for their outward-bound
train.
Now, to look for a particular policeman in a great city like New York
would have seemed to an older person very much like looking for
the proverbial “needle in the hay-mow”; but to the adventurous and
romantic Octave it appeared the simplest thing in the world. So, with
a feeling of perfect security, she lightly moved away from the
detaining cabbies, rigidly holding to the little satchel which contained
a hair-brush and comb, and Melville’s well-filled pocket-book.
Ah! there he was, in almost the same place on the block where she
had last beheld him. And, with the confidence of an old
acquaintance, Octave walked straight to the officer and bade him a
pleasant “Good evening.”
“Good evening,” returned the gentleman in blue uniform, looking a
little surprised at the unusual salutation. He was accustomed to be
addressed as: “Say, look here! Where is, or what is, so and so?”
“I want to go to Prof. Edric von Holsneck’s. Which is the best way,
and will you get me a carriage?”
“Eh? What? I didn’t quite ‘catch on,’” was the reply.
Octave frowned. It was getting late, and she was anxious to get to
her destination before it grew too dark for her to observe what Uncle
Fritz called “her bearings.” She had a wild idea of taking a night-train
back to the mountain; but if she should find that unadvisable she
would have to look up a lodging place.
“I want to go to the house of Prof. von Holsneck,” said the girl,
repeating her first statement with the distinctness known at The
Snuggery as “Octave’s spunk.” “You certainly must know the
residence of a man so famous.”
“Well, I don’t then. I know who he is and what he is; but where he
lives I never took the trouble to find out. Why do you want to go
there? He is a big feller, too busy to be bothered.”
Octave tossed her head with a movement of scorn, which she
considered quite womanly. “I wish to see him on business. If—you
don’t know anything about him, how am I going to find my way?”
“Easy enough. Look in the Directory.”
“Where will I find the ‘Directory?’” asked the girl, tapping her foot
impatiently.
“In the drug store on the corner.”
Octave’s eyes followed the glance of the policeman, and, thanking
him, she made her way to the place and pursued her inquiries. Very
speedily she had possessed herself of all the needed information,
and set out to visit the great scientist. An older and a wiser person
would have hesitated long before intruding upon one so fully
occupied as Prof, von Holsneck; but the girl had but one idea in her
mind, and believed that the man she sought was the best one in the
world to help her to her object. Why, then, should she not go to
him? To her it appeared the most natural way, when one was in
need, to apply at head-quarters for the assistance required; and she
knew very well that in neither Europe nor America was there any
one who could approach the professor in his special branch of
knowledge.
But, simple as the affair appeared to her, it did not apparently strike
others in just the same light. The trim and prim lackey who opened
the door of the great mansion to the plainly dressed girl stared at
her in a most disconcerting way.
The professor was at home; but the professor was engaged in
dining. The professor was not to be interrupted on any pretext
whatever, when he was at table. Would she leave her card? This last
inquiry with a supercilious sneer which, if anything had been needed
to put Octave “on her mettle” would certainly have accomplished it.
“My card will be of no use, in this case. My business is personal; and
I will come in and await the professor’s leisure.” She coolly moved
forward into the vestibule, and, much as he would have liked to do
so, the servant did not dare refuse her entrance. Nor was he wholly
to be blamed for this reluctance. He knew, if she did not, that his
master’s hours of recreation were few, and of labor many; and that
each had a distinct and weighty money value. The lackey’s business
was to serve and save his employer, and in his eyes there seemed
nothing which a chit of a girl, arriving in a cheap railway hack, could
possibly want with the great man except to beg for something or
other.
“Shall I wait here?” asked Octave, as the man allowed her to stand
just within the entrance and made no effort to give her a seat.
“If you will tell me your business, I will see if you can have an
audience; that is, when the professor has finished dining,” replied
the servant, loftily.
“It would be impossible for you to understand my business,” replied
the visitor with a hauteur fully equalling Jeems’s own. And, as he
stared at her afresh nor made any motion toward serving her, she
walked into the first room she saw open, and quietly sat down to
await developments.
“Well, I like this!” exclaimed the quick-tempered girl; “I wonder what
Fritzy Nunky would say!”
 One Painting Especially Captivated Her Attention. Page 175.
Then she began to look about her, and soon forgot the awkwardness
of her situation, the lateness of the hour, and all the other
disagreeable things which she should have remembered. The walls
of the reception room were lined with pictures, and there was
nothing which had so intense a fascination for Octave as a beautiful
picture. She knew at a glance that these were such; though she
could not have told why, save that they reminded her of those she
had delighted in among the great galleries abroad, where she had so
often gone with her Uncle Fritz.
One painting especially captivated her attention. It was an “Interior”
of a German peasant home. In her childhood Octave had seen
dozens just such homes, and in one of them she had passed some
of the merriest days she could remember.
“Oh! I do believe that was painted for a portrait of dear old Hans
Schwartz! And that is Gretchen with the baby—it really, really is! Oh,
who could have done that, and how did it come here? Good evening,
Hans; hast thou the white cow already milked? And may I have
some of the foaming liquid for supper? Gretchen’s brown bread
would taste so good this very minute. Give it, Gretchen, and I’ll
nurse the baby for you.” She had thought herself entirely alone
when she entered the apartment, and she had forgotten everything
else but delight at finding here a real—she was certain it was a real
—portrait of some of her oldest friends. So thinking, she had not
feared to talk aloud to them; and she was recalled to herself by the
sharp surprise of hearing a voice close to her elbow.
“You seem to be impressed with that picture.”
Octave wheeled around, too unconscious of herself to be abashed.
“Oh, but I have been in that very kitchen—I surely have, and drank
my milk out of one of those very earthen bowls! I don’t know who
painted it, or how in the world it came here and I came to see it, but
that is Hans Schwartz’s cottage at Erding, where we children have
passed three summers and had such fun.” Octave paused in her
eagerness, recalled to the time and place by the striking of a clock
somewhere near.
The clear radiance of shaded electric lights suffused the apartment,
which the girl now observed was simply but elegantly arranged. For
the first time a feeling of timidity stole over her, and a sense that she
had intruded arose to trouble her. It might be that she had made a
mistake; if so, the only thing left for her to do was to get away as
quickly as she could. She looked into the face of the old man who
had spoken to her, and noticed with satisfaction that he was as
simply attired and as every-day-like in his appearance as herself.
“Can you tell me, sir, if it would be possible for me to have a few
minutes’ conversation with the gentleman who owns this house,—
the great professor of chemistry, and—lots of other things?”
The old man smiled. “On what subject, my child?” He did not
disconcert her as the liveried servant had done, and, if he was
surprised to see her occupying the great man’s gallery, and enjoying
his pictures without leave or license, he was too kindly to say so.
“This dear old fellow is somebody’s grandfather,” thought Octave,
reminded by his gentleness of Grandmother Amy; “I wonder if he is
a sort of upper servant; he looks as if he felt at home.” Aloud she
said:—
“I had rather not try to explain it to any one except the professor, or
to some one he will recommend, if he is too busy to see me. It is
about a discovery that a boy made. I don’t understand it myself, but
the boy wrote it all down on paper, and I have seen it act. I do hope
he will see me, for I believe he would be interested, if he heard the
whole story.”
At that moment, Octave’s suspicion that her companion was
“somebody’s grandfather” was confirmed. A merry little child ran into
the room, and with a scream of delight that she had escaped her
nurse’s hands, bounded upon the old man’s knee. “O grandpa! don’t
let her take me to bed, will you? I haven’t played you were a bear
for three days!”
“Three days, is it, sweetheart? That is long indeed, for little people
to remember. Maybe I will play bear, soon; just now I am busy. Go
and tell the good bonne that I wish you to stay up one half-hour
longer; then you may come and sit upon my lap, and hear me talk
with this young girl.”
The child ran swiftly away, singing something in French; and thereby
puzzling poor Octave’s brain still more. A baby of three, possibly four,
years old, who talked in excellent English and sang carols in French,
was astonishing enough; but not so greatly such as to be met at the
entrance by pomposity in livery and find the interior, if far richer, as
unpretentious as the living room at The Snuggery.
Her puzzle was destined to increase. “Now, my dear, if you will show
me the papers, and tell me what you wish, I shall be happy to serve
you,” said the old man, stroking his white beard and looking into her
astonished eyes with the most encouraging of smiles.
“You—you? Are you Prof. Edric von Holsneck?” faltered Octave.
“Yes. It was he you came to see?”
“Yes, si-ir; but—but I—perhaps I had better go away. I didn’t think
so at first, but now it seems like presumption for me to talk to—to
you.” Try as she would, the girl could not reconcile the real professor
with her preconceived notion of him. She had fancied a tall, stern,
spectacled person, in a laboratory, and with learning fairly oozing
from his gaunt person. But this man, he might have been—anybody!
“There is no presumption in any honest person’s talking to any other.
Evidently you thought you had something worth saying or you would
not have taken the trouble to come and try to say it. I shall be glad
to hear or read the matter you have in hand.” His manner, rather
than his words, said also that he would be glad to do so at once, for
wasted moments were a thing unknown in his day’s calendar.
Octave became herself again on the instant. All her timidity
vanished, and with the simple directness of manner which some
found so charming because it was so wholly natural and unconscious
of self, she told him Melville’s story. The little grandchild came in,
and, evidently accustomed to be quiet when her grandfather so
desired, nestled herself in his arms and lay there still, with her eyes
fixed upon Octave’s face, and apparently listening closely to every
word she uttered.
“The papers,” said Prof. von Holsneck, when she had related with
lucid brevity all that had led up to Melville’s discovery. His eyes had
gained in brightness and his whole manner had lost the look of age
and fatigue it had worn when Octave first beheld him. Knowledge
was to this man what a draught of wine is to some others.
Swiftly Octave opened the closely guarded pocket-book, and gave
the professor some simple lines of writing, with odd looking
formulæ. To her, they were less intelligible than Greek; but to the
gentleman they were a familiar language. Their meaning, also,
appeared to have startled and delighted him; for he suddenly laid
down the sheets of paper and looked at Octave searchingly. “Do you
tell me that this was prepared by a boy of fourteen years? An invalid,
and alone?”
“I do. He has had good instruction until within the last six months,
when the professor who used to live on Deer Hill Mountain removed
to the South. My cousin Melville cares for nothing so much as study,
and he has had no chance to do anything else. I don’t know much
about boys, but it seems to me he is awfully clever, is he not?”
“He is more. He is a genius.”
“And is the ‘stuff,’ good for anything?”
“Time will prove, and some exhaustive experiments. It interests me.
I will look into it. If you will give me your address, I will write to
him.” Octave drew out her card, but, as she was about to hand it to
her host, he said, “How did you come here? With friends?”
“I came alone, sir.”
“Alone! Where shall you spend the night?”
“I—hoped to get through in time to go home, but I fear it is too late.
Will you be good enough to tell me some hotel that is nearer the
station than the Metropole? I want to get back as early in the
morning as I can.”
“Do you know the Hotel Metropole?”
“Yes, sir; we stopped there for a week when we came to America
with Uncle Fritz. But it is a long way down, I think.”
The great man looked at the girl who was but a child, but who
seemed so little dismayed at hunting up a lodging place in a great
city alone, and after dark. There was nothing bold in her manner, if
there was perfect fearlessness—the fearlessness of innocent
ignorance. Then his eyes fell down upon the little grandchild in his
arms. “My dear young lady, you are too young to have done this
thing alone, and I cannot let you go away to-night. You must remain
with us.”
“Oh! sir, I did not dream of making myself such a trouble to you. I
came only to find out for poor Melville if there was anything in his
idea, and I knew nobody could tell me as well as you. I couldn’t bear
to have him bothered by people who did not know exactly; it will be
such a glorious thing for him if he is right, and he couldn’t bear
suspense.”
The girl’s flattering candor was pleasant to the learned man, for
there is no one so wise but that he likes appreciation; besides, the
frank face pleased him in other ways, and he was minded to hear
the history of the cottage she had recognized by its portrait on his
walls.
He touched a button, and the servant who had treated Octave with
so much contempt appeared. “Send away this young lady’s cab. She
will pass the night here.”
Octave held out her purse, but the professor waived it aside. “You
are my guest. If I mistake not, the most notable I have entertained
for many a day.” The girl understood that he referred to Melville’s
possible discovery, for the same eager light had come into the bright
eyes of the scientist, and she felt no undue elation at his words.
She, the messenger, was nothing to him but a messenger; and, with
a funny little grimace at herself, she reflected that even in this most
important transaction of her young life she was still “only Octave.”
“Why are you smiling, girl?” asked the grandchild, slipping her hand
confidingly into the young visitor’s.
“At foolish thoughts, my dear.”
The professor roused himself. “Have you had your dinner, Miss—”
“Octave Pickel. No, sir; but that is of no consequence.”
“It should be of the highest consequence to a growing girl. Run,
little one, and ask grandmother to have supper prepared for our
guest. And Pickel, you said? The name commends itself to me. I am
indebted to those of that name for many great kindnesses. It may
not be the same family; yet you recognized the Erding cottage. Did
you ever live at Munich?”
“It is my home,” responded Octave, eagerly.
“The great publishing house of ‘Pickel & Pickel’—do you know that,
too?”
“Do I not? Since I am part of the ‘& Pickel.’ The head of the house is
Fritz; and Franz, his brother, was my father.”
The professor held out his hands in cordial greeting. “Then, indeed,
you are in the house of friends. Now, while the supper is made
ready, tell me about the cottage the picture of which my son
painted.”
 CHAPTER XVI.
It was a most unexpected journey that the over-busy scientist took,
on the following morning, with the young girl whose audacious
appeal to him had resulted with so much success to her. That is, it
would have been considered audacious by the hosts of anxious men
who were always coming and going, eager to consult the professor
on matters of grave importance; and obliged, many and many a
time, to defer that consultation till “a more convenient occasion.”
She had not only made her own “occasion,” but had not even
dreamed that any formality had been necessary.
As they neared the little station at the foot of Deer Hill Mountain,
Octave’s overflowing spirits found voice.
“Oh, I had such a lovely time! I never had a pleasanter visit in all my
life, and I do appreciate all that you and sweet Mrs. Professor have
done for me. Uncle Fritz may be able to find some way of returning
some of the kindness. But, there is something you don’t know.”
More than one among the passengers in the car recognized the fine
head of Professor von Holsneck, and pointed out the great man as a
person to be seen once in a lifetime; but to those who beheld him
and had known of his mighty intellect alone, he was to appear in a
new character. He might have been the simplest traveller of them all,
journeying into green pastures along with a favorite grandchild, so
unpretending and joyous was he. For, great as he was,—because he
was so great, it may be,—he had learned the happy secret of being
true to the nature God had given him, and of tossing aside care like
a useless garment, whenever he dared take time from his grave
labors for a bit of rest.
Octave found him as companionable as Fritzy, and far more so than
Paula would have been on such a trip. Her tongue rattled from one
subject to another with humming-bird swiftness, if not with so much
of grace. Professor von Holsneck found her infinitely diverting, and
grew brighter and more rested as the distance lessened; but it was
not till they were almost ready to leave the train that Octave treated
him to a full account of her “running away,” and the puzzle she had
left for her family to solve.
“But, my dear child, if you had told me that last night, I would have
relieved their anxiety by a telegram.”
“Don’t you see? I do not want it relieved. It isn’t every day I have a
chance to do things out of the common, and you wouldn’t have had
the heart to disappoint me when I did, would you?”
“I certainly would!” replied the professor, laughing.
“Oh! Then it is well I didn’t tell. Paula will be just dying to know
what I have done and where I have been; but you see she isn’t to
know, yet; neither she nor anybody. This is a Mystery—a capital-
letter MYSTERY! And it isn’t to be divulged until we are all ready for
the denouement. See?”
“Not very clearly, my dear.”
“Oh, bother!—I don’t mean that saucily, but because there is so little
time to explain. We don’t wish anybody to know anything about
what Melville hopes or what he may have discovered until he is all
ready to test it. When you are sure,—perfectly, perfectly sure,—and
it has been tried in other ways ever so many times, then he is to try
it on himself; when the great surgeon says the time has come. We
want him to show his courage and get his fame all at once—in a
blaze of glory! Poor laddie! he hasn’t had many blazes of glory, but
he’s had lots of blazing tempers! He’s almost as spunky as I am. So,
when we get to The Snuggery, you are to be—He, I am a Heroine,
and this is part of my romance. I just have astonished Paula Pickel
for once in my life, and I don’t want you to go and spoil the fun. You
won’t, will you?”
“Not if I can help it,” answered the savant, enjoying the nonsense
like a boy. “But I may do so unintentionally.”
“I sha’n’t let you. If you go to say anything you should not, I will
frown; and when I frown, you are to stop short off, no matter what
it is.”
“That is destined to make me appear very silly, I fear. I shall be sure
to say the thing you do not wish.”
“I think not; and you won’t mind being rather silly for once, when
you are so very wise most of the time, will you?”
“I don’t know about the wisdom, my dear. I often feel as if I had but
learned the alphabet of wisdom, and that most imperfectly.”
The professor’s tone had become grave, and of the truth of his
conviction there could be no doubt. Octave looked at him in
astonishment.
“Why, Professor von Holsneck! If you are not wise, who in this world
is?”
“The more we learn the greater is the vista of knowledge which
opens before us. What I have gained in understanding is as nothing,
nothing, to that I could desire, and, being almost at the end of life,
that I must leave unknown; unless, indeed, in that other life I shall
be permitted to advance forever.”
“Then—what must you think of poor me!” cried Octave, abashed at
last by a thought of her own acquirements in comparison with his.
“That you are a very charming child,” responded the great man, so
heartily and affectionately that her smiles returned.
When they had reached their station, and had been driven up the
mountain side in one of the lumbering stages which were on hand
for the accommodation of stray passengers, their talk reverted to
Germany and the son of the professor, who was still there,
prosecuting his studies in art, and whose attainments seemed, to
judge by the fond parent’s talk, to be something wonderful indeed.
The truth was, that Octave had walked straight into the deepest
corner of his heart by her swift recognition of a humble scene which