He had never
been so sorely tried. Even if he could school himself to forgetting
Harriet's old love and the act of deceitfulness into which her love had
drawn her, could he ever escape Mrs. Dawson's persecutions? Would she
not, even if he won and married Harriet, pursue and taunt him with the
girl's old love, as she had Clem Dill? And how could he stand
that--he, whose ideal of woman and woman's constancy had always been so
high?
He rose, sat on the edge of the bed, and clasped his hands between his
knees. The room was in darkness except the spot of light on the wall
behind the book. Below he heard the horses crunching their corn and
hay. He took from his pocket Sue Dawson's letters and the one from
Sally and wrapped them in a piece of paper. Then he looked about for a
place to hide them. In a corner overhead he saw a jutting rafter, and
behind it a dark niche where the shingles sloped to the wall. It was
too high for him to reach from the floor, so he placed the table
beneath the spot, and, mounting it, pushed the packet tightly into the
corner. Then he stepped down and removed the table, cautiously, that
Washburn might not hear him, and sat on the bed again.
Pages:
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160