The times., 1899-01-15
BORROW ED Pill MES.


where licfens grew in patches of yellow,
ard the stone-erop and house-leell in
patches of green; a house with long, low
rooms. furniture that shone with beeswaN
and eIb5w-grease and beds whose coarse
homespun linen sheets smelled Of layen-
der.
There were, indeed, two lavender bush
es in the garden. as well as roses and
stocks, sweet Glove piuks and old man
The farm was stocked with interesting live
creatures-covs. pigs chickens. turkeys
and pigeons; there were sheep dotting the
downs behind the house. and from the
font windows. across the orchard, where
the apples We're beginning TO grow hard
and round. you cClld see the long, shining,
blue line of the sea.
Mabel Roscommon liked that sea-iine.
and she liked the garden the orchard. and
the rest of it-all but the turkeys. She
was a little afraid Of these. because she
was by profession a high school teacher,
and had been taugh. how TO manage chill
drcn. but not how to manage turkeys
art. by the way. much simpler. Now she
had come to the farm for her summer
holidays To be alone was new to her
for she was one Of a large family: and to
be for whole weeks in this country vas
new to her too. for she had never before
been near the sea for more than a week
at time. The down country was to her
= revelation.
She had big sitting room TO herself and
shared the simple meals of the farmer and
his wife. The laborers and the maids ate
at the lower end Of the long table Mabel
thought it was such nice plant re-
minded her somehow OF the feudal system.
The dignified simplicity of farm life ap-
pealed TO her. Gradually a passion Of love
awoke in her for the little. ordinary use
ful everyday things-the needful worl; re-
peated at the appropriate hour, the chang
ing magic of morn and noon and evening
the restful distances of down and sea the
intimate fairgrounds of hedge and orchard.
At first she read good deal but gradually
more and more time was spent with Mrs.
Fry. Mabel followed her in and out 10 the
dairy. to the kitchen, TO feed the pigs. to
collect the eggs. And the eyes of the fad
ed, middle-aged woman grew tender
though her words were always the explain
atory commonplace or the mournful bio
graphical
But one day-it was the day when Miss
Roscommon first churned the butter-Mrs.
Fry sighed, and said:
My little Alice would ha been about
your age if she'd lived. | own should ha'
dearly liked TO ha taught her TO churn."
II was that night that Mabel kissed Mrs.
Fry when she said od-night " and al
most wished, as she crept between the
cold layendered sheets that she had been
born a farmers daughter. She had dis
covered her vocation. 1t was not teach
ing, as she had steadfastly believed. nor
literature as she had secretly dreamed:
her true vocation was the pastoral life
not to forget the great life of the world
the hurry and hustle. the cleverness and
bravery, the wise and The great; not TO
forget them-to honor them from afar,
but to take no further part in the strife
and struggle OF strenuous life: 10 watch
IT from the safe haven of the little life.
the quiet, ordered placid life OF the farm.
This was her vocaton-her fate was high
school teaching.
When Robert Fry came home-the only
son Of his mother. the farmers wife
Mabel shared in The hustle of glad prepa-
ration that heralded his coming. He was
in business in London. but he was coming
home for his holiday, his mother said
But he hates the business. she went
on. He got a scholarship TO go TO oxford.
for he's very clever. my dear: but it was
not enough to keep him there. and it was
the year We did so badly with the wheat,
so father couldn't spare enough 10 let him
go. so then. Bob gave in, and he said:
All right. I'll go into business, for | don't
want TO stay al farming. So his uncle
took him into the mantles, where he might
be doing we'll, but ] wish he'd never gone
to school. ] do; then he'd a-been content
10 stay and help his father about the cid
place that's belonged TO the Frys no one
knows how long You can see their names
in the churchyard.'
II vas in the churchyard amid the moss
grown headstones that Miss RoseommOn
not only saw the names Of many dead and
gone Frys, but made the acquaintance OF
the newcomer. He came to her across
the field that lay between the house and
the church, and she could see his fair
hair shining in the sun. He was tall and
handsome, she thought.
My mother sent me to tell you that
lea is ready. It's half an hour earlier
than usual Yes, I've just come down. 1t
all seems very beautiful after London,
doesn't it?'
It's so beautiful" said Mabel, that l
am beginning TO wonder how ! shall ever
he able TO leave il.
He walked beside her for While IN
silence, then he said.
You were at Girton. my m3ther tells
me. Don't you find this sort OF thing
strange after the stirring intellectual life
there?"
She laughed little.
i don't think we were very intellec-
tusl-" she began.
I feel so much all l have missed he
said. IF only my father had not sown
wheat that year"
Yes she said. y know; it was very
hard"
She was interested in the boy. for,
though he was of her own age, he seemed
TO be infinitely young. His naive. blum
dering anxiety to let her see that he TOO
knew all about the intellectual life" his
respect for her as Girton girl, and
above all, certain wistfuI sadness about
his blue eyes. stirred her half-amuset
sympathy His presence seemed 10 prom
ise a new interest TO life al the farm.
The promise was fulfilled. He attaches
himself frankly to Miss ROscommon'
apron strings-walked with her. drov
her in the market cart, sat with her unde
the gray apple boughs. and talked withou
ceasing He was well read, was acquainte
with modern as well as classic literature
he quoted almost necessarily. When b
was not quoting he talked Of authors, 0
editions, of style and of form How shoul
she know that he had his own dream
which he managed 10 disguise under thes
quotations from the dreams Of Others
Miss Roscommon was the first educate
woman he had ever met. and he seem ago
nizedly anxious TO lose no chance of show
ing her that he too had been educated, tina
he was not merely the foolish boy sh
the house at a farm. AT first this sensi
tive. insistent egoism amused Miss Ros
common, then 1t irritated her, and at tn
end OF three days she was as near hatin
Robert Fry as she had ever been 10 hatin
any one-even the least loved professor q
Cambridge. Yet, after all, 1t was not posi-