The Richmond Virginian. (Richmond, Va.) 1910-1920, 1913-03-28

peering around the room in vain for
a mirror.
Yes" admitted Sidney, "But it
is perfectly all right, your being
here. ] frequently sleep in the--the
i'm a small house on the place" he
said. thinking he could somehow make
a bed in his small barn, and II you
can manage to rough it here you're
exceedingly welcome"
Sidney had never felt SO embar-
raised in his life. He had forgot
ten. since he had seen only the
clumsly dressed daughters of the
mountain folk, that women We're
such exquisite things. and now all
the charm of it rushed in upon him,
by the way" he said. picking up
his music box from the hearth and
offering her the large chair. "Of
course. you haven't had supper" and
before the fire at the lit3le table
laughing over the supper that they
had both made ready.
And now you are to he a teacher
at St Mati1das9" he asked. finally.
Marie blushed. You see. I have
spent all my life in the city" she
explained, the last few years tied
down in an Office. Then one day.
when the minister of church I some
times used to go to- talked about the
poor mountain people down here and
the work to be dole, / decided !
would leave the city forever. / had
no one to keep me So ] told the
minister l would do whatever was
needed and he said he wanted a
teacher for St. Matilda's."
Sidney laughed rather puzzled at
her young enthusiasm. forgetting that
only few years before he had come
down here in the same mood.
That night Sidney slept in the hay
and Marie had his cot which he had
pulled up before the fire for her. The
next day the storm had not abated
and Sidney, felt an intense joy at the
thought that Marie would have to
spend another day under his roof and
that the day was too stormy for the
intrusion Of school children As early
as he dared he was outside his little
cabin wondering If she were as lovely
by day as she had been by night
She opened the door and revealed
herself in crisp blue Bingham witt
short little apron. The cot nae
been pushed out of sight, the room
been put to rights, and coffee was
boiling on the hearth.
do YOU know" said Marie, as they
sat down together for breakfast, y
always imagined that parsons were
very different people. l never knew
one well before"
And l." said Sidney. always
thought that school teachers were
cross and repelling," and then, re-
nibering his informal gray shirt
and faded red sweater, Il am afraid
Miss Reagh. that l am not much Of g
parson. | am not much Of anything
in fact, and L never really cared be
fore now"
Sidney forgot that he had known
Marie only a few hours. He forgot
that she was guest iii his house He
thought only of the happiness he felt
in having her near him. He didn't re
member afterward just what he said
but apparently IL was something very
foolish. for it changed Miss ReaEt
from a most pleasant companion t
a rather naughty young woman, wht
insisted on having him drive her ovei
to st Matilda's at once.
But the thought of Marie Reagh II
this cold, unsympathetic mood wa'
none the less distracting. and Sidney
found frequent ana repeated excuses
to go TO St Matildas within the mex
few months Sometimes he saw hel
only in the hall and then he would
drive back over the mountains dream
ing of that wonderful first night, He
would reproach himself. fer his stu
HfdllN Ia AdF3ftE bT0hti4 @itE S{SAI -
their first friendship by his silly show
of feeling the next morning. But Sid
ney did not mend matters, for one
spring day when he drove over TO ST
Matilda S and found Miss Reagh alont
reading in the schoolroom he opened
his heart to her. only to have her hur
ry away from him in apparent terror
One night in June the winds were
blowing gently from across the noun
y 30 -A ,g,r4fAs @.s hi "a 4
was sitting on the doorsteps At hi
side ne had the little music box which
was playing brief snafChes from
HTrayiata" and "Lohengrin." Sudden
" he heard footsteps in the road
and looking up. he saw the figure O
woman. Marie Reagh. She had :
small bag II her hand and now turn
ed in at his gate. In few words sh
explained. AS the summer had ad
vanced and the warm air had file,
the mountains with life she had be
come unutterably lonesome, Sh
] would take lAa-StaEe- -tn-th
city in the morning In the meantim
she asked Sidney to drive her dowi
/ to the stage drivers wife for tn
! night.
Sidney forgot to ask her in to hi
! little cabin, but drew her down 4
1 the steps at his side 10 listen to tht
music box.
/ There is no hurry he said
Besides, my horse has just beer
/ fed Perhaps you can wait an hou
with me-. 1t is the last time we vii
] ever see each other"
/ He turned to rewind the little mu
sic box, and, looking back again
heard Marie sohbing. What he wa
prompted to do was foolish, h
thought. just the sort of thing tina
had spoiled his chances before, bu
he would risk It, Thereupon sid
ney put two strong arms on Marie
( shoulders and drew her to him. Still
Marie said nothing. and for won
/ derful minute he sat there with tn
music box jingling meaningless frag
ments and the wind out of the noun
tain sky blowing her hair against hi
I face.
/ Then, with burst Of courage tina
1 Sidney could not account for, he drew
/ her into his arms.
! Marie. we are both homesick, ant
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