The Greenville journal. [volume] (Greenville, Ohio) 1850-1918, 1917-07-19
what about it?"

SIepHeu heIu lne paper out to his
brother John read a few lines and
dashed 1t into n corner of the room.
There's this much about il. John"
Stephen continued. 1.-The woman PLAYED
that part night after, night-played it
to the life, mind you. She made her
reputation in 1t. That's the woman
we unknowingly let sleep beneath this
roof! The barn is the place for her
and her sort ~
Johns clenched fists were held firm
ly to his sides. His eyes were blazing.
That's enough, Stephen !" he cried.
mo, It's not enough ~ was the fierce
reply" "The truths been burning in my
heart long enough. It's better out.
You want to find her a guest at Rayn-
ham castle, do you?-Raynham castle,
where never decent woman crosses
the threshold! If she goes there, she
goes WellT
An anger that was almost paralyz-
ing. sense of the utter impotence Of
words, drove John in silence from the
rOom He left the house by the back
door, passed quickly through the or
chard, where the tangled moonlight lay
upon the ground In strange, fantastic
shadows; across the narrow strip Of
held. field now of golden stubble; up
the hill which looked down upon the
farm buildings and the churchyard.
He sat grimly down upon great
bowlder, filled with hateful sense of
unwreaked passion, yet with sheer
thankfulneSS in his heart that he had
escaped the miaSma of evil thoughts
which Stephens words seemed to have
created. The fancy seized him to face
these half-veiled suggestions of his
brother, so far as they concerned
himself and his life during the last
few months.
stephen was right. This woman who
had dropped from the clouds for those
few brief hours had played strange
havoc with. Johns thoughts and his
whole outlook upon life. The coming
of harvest. the care of his people, his
sports. his cricket. the early days upon
the grouse mOOrS, had all suddenly
lost their interest for him Life had
become Il task. The echo of her half
mocking, half-challpnging words was
always in his ears.
He sat with his head resting upon
his hands, looking SteadfaStly across
the valley below Almost at his feet
lay the little church with its grave
yard the long line of stacks and barns,
the laborerS' cottages. the bailiff's
house. the whole little colony around
which his life seemed centered. The
summer moonlight llv upon the ground
almost like snow. He could see the
shraveS of wheat standing up in the
most distant of the COrntieds. Beyond
was the dark gorge toward which he
had looked so many nights at this
hour.
Across the viaduct there came a
blaze Of streaming light. Scrpentlike
trail. Il family heard whiStle--the Scot |
tiSh express on it's way southwark
toward London. His eyes followed it
out of sight. He found himself think
ing of the passengers who would wake !
the next morning in London. He felt |
himself suddenly acutely conscious of |
his isolation. Was there not something |
almost mOnaStic in the secluSiOn which |
had become a passion with Stephen, |
and which had its grip too, upon him
a waste of life, Il burying of talents?
He rose to his feet. The half-fOrmed |
purpose of weeks held him now. def |
mite and secure. He knew that this Dil- |
grimage of his to the hilltop, his rapt |
contemplation of the little panorama
which had become so dear to him, was |
in sense valedictOry.
After all. two more months passed !
before the end came. and it came then
without a moments warning. 1t was |
n little past midday when John drove |
slowly through the streets of Market |
Ketton in his high dogcart. exchanging
right and left with the |
tradespeople. with farmers brought |
into town by the market with ac- |
quaintanCeS of all sorts and cOrdi- |
tions. More than one young woman |
from the shop windows or the pave |
mCnts ventured to smile at him, and |
the few greetings he received from the
wives and daughters of his neighbors |
were as gracious as they could possibly |
he made. John almost smiled once. in |
the act of raising his hat, as he real |
lied how completely the whole charm |
of the world, for him, seemed to lie in
one woman's eyes.
AT the croSSwayS. where he should
have turned to the inn he paused while
a mOtOrcar passed. 1t contained a
woman. who was talking to her host. |
She was not in the least like Lou
lSe, and yet instihctively he knew that
she was of the same world The per-
fection of her white-serge costume, her
hat so Smartly worn, the half-insOlent
smile, the little gesture with which she
raised her hand--solAething about her
unlocked the floodgates.
Market Ketton had seemed well
enough few minutes ago. John had
felt healthy appetite for his midday
meal, and a certain interest concerning
deal in barley upon which he was