A Young Girl's Wooing

by Edward Payson Roe

  CHAPTER XXV

  GOSSAMER THREADS

  Mr. Muir was to depart on the early train the following morning, andwas pleased when Madge opened her door at the same time and said, "I'mgoing to see that you have a good breakfast and a good send-off."

  She chattered merrily with him during the meal, ignoring his somewhatwistful and questioning glances. "When shall we see you again, Henry?"she asked.

  "Friday evening, I hope."

  "Don't work and worry too much."

  "I defy fate now. You've given me your luck."

  "Heaven forbid! Well, good-by."

  A little later she and two of her boys, as she called them, were offon the hills. Mrs. Muir and Graydon breakfasted long after, and thelatter observed with a frown that Arnault was still at the Wildmeretable, with all the serenity of one _en famille_.

  "Doctor," he said, a little later, "how much will you take--the moneyto be given to your chapel--to go trouting with me for a day?"

  "A good round sum," Dr. Sommers replied.

  "All right. When can you go?"

  "Wednesday, I guess, if I can leave my patients."

  "Oh, come now; go and give your patients a chance to get well."

  "Wait till I catch you sick, and I'll pay you up for that."

  "You'll stand a better chance of catching trout."

  The day passed much as usual, only Arnault appeared in the ascendant.

  "He is going to town in a day or two," pleaded the diplomat, afterdinner.

  "And I'm going trouting," Graydon replied.

  "When?"

  "Soon."

  "Only for a day, I suppose."

  "It depends on my luck. You will get on better when I'm away."

  "It's cruel for you to speak like that," she replied, her eyesmoistening.

  "I suppose it is," was his rueful reply; "but I can be more patient, Iimagine, back in the mountains than here."

  "But how about poor me?"

  "That is a question that I often ask myself, Miss Wildmere, but youalone can answer it. As far as I am able to judge, you can meet theproblem in your mind, whatever it is, as well, if not better, in myabsence. You must understand me, and I have promised to be reasonablypatient."

  "Very well, Mr. Muir," she replied, in apparent sadness, "I will trynot to tax your patience beyond what you well term reason."

  "Something far beyond reason, and--I may add--pride also, permits youto tax it all. I would rather not revert to this topic again. It isembarrassing to us both. I cannot help saying, however, that it isessential to my happiness that the present state of affairs shouldsoon cease."

  "If it were only present happiness that one had to consider--" shebegan, and then hastened away.

  Thus she played upon his sympathy, and held him by the generous sideof his nature.

  But he determined not to give Arnault the pleasure of seeing him waitfor the crumbs of time that fell from his table, and he delightedMadge, having sought her out on the piazza, by remarking: "It is socool to-day I do not see why we cannot start at once. I shall not findthe time too long, for you can talk as well as ride."

  She made good his words, and gave wings to the hours. Among the scenesthrough which they passed, she reminded him, not of an exotic or astray tropical bird, but rather of the ideal mountain nymph humanized,developed into modern life, the strong original forces of natureharmonized into perfect womanhood, yet unimpaired. Her smiles, herpiquant words, and, above all, the changing expression of herlovely eyes, affected him subtilely, and again imparted a risingexhilaration. Her thoughts came not like the emptying of a cup, butrippled forth like a sparkling rill from some deep and exhaustlesssupply. And what reservoir is more inexhaustible than the love of aheart like hers?--a love born as naturally and unconsciously aslife itself--that, when discovered, changes existence by a suddenkaleidoscopic turn, compelling all within and without to pass at onceinto new arrangement and combination--that inspires heroic, patienteffort, self-denial, and even self-sacrifice.

  She had prepared herself for this opportunity by years of training andthought, but his presence brought her an inspiration beyond allthat she had gained from books or study. He was the magician whounconsciously had the power to waken and kindle her whole nature, toset the blood flowing in her veins like wine, and to arouse a rapidityand versatility of thought that was surprising even to herself. Withthe pure genius of love she threw about his mind gossamer threads,drew the filaments together, and held them in her heart. The pulsesof life grew stronger within him, his fancy kindled, the lore of bookslong since forgotten, as he supposed, flashed into memory, and outinto happy allusion and suggestion. Still his wonder increased thather knowledge coincided so fully with his own, and that their linesof reading had been so closely parallel. It was hard for him to finda terra incognita of thought into which she had not made some slightexplorations. In his own natural domains she skilfully appeared toknow enough to follow, but not to lead with mortifying superiority.She also had her own preserves of thought and fancy, of which she gavehim tantalizing glimpses, then let fall the screening boughs; and he,who fain would see more, was content to pass on, assured that anothervista would soon be revealed. It was the reserve of this frank girlthat most charmed and incited him, the feeling, more or less defined,that while she appeared to manifest herself by every word and smile,something richer and rarer still was hidden.

  "No one will ever have a chance to understand her fully but the manshe loves," he thought. "To him she would give the clew to all hertreasures, or else show them with sweet abandon, and it would requirea lifetime for the task. She has a beauty and a character that wouldnever pall, for the reason that she draws her life so directly fromnature. I have never met a woman that affected me as she does."

  He sighed again. In spite of the loyalty to which he believed himselffully committed, Stella Wildmere, with her Wall Street complications,her variegated experience as to adorers, and her present questionablediplomacy, seemed rather faded beside this girl, upon whose heart thedew still rested.

  For the first time the thought passed consciously through his mind,"Stella has never made me so happy as I have been the last few hours.More than that, she never gave life an aspect so rich, sweet, and fullof noble possibility. Madge makes blase, shallow cynicism impossiblein a fellow."

  As he danced with Miss Wildmere that evening, or sauntered with her onthe piazza or through secluded paths, the same tendency to comparisonstormented him. He could not make himself believe that Miss Wildmere'swords were like the flow of a clear, bubbling spring, pure and sweet.There was in them a sediment, the product of a life which had passedthrough channels more and more distasteful to contemplate.

  The next day he went to town to look after some business matters, andreturned by the latest train. To his surprise he found Madge absent,and was immediately conscious of a vague sense of disappointment.