"Favor is deceitful and beauty is vain."--_Psalms 31:30._
Miss Virginia Wilton was engaged to teach the spring term of school at
the Dry Bench schoolhouse. Why that upland strip bordering the mountains
should be called "Dry Bench," Miss Wilton, at first, did not understand.
If there was a garden spot in this big, ofttimes barren Western country,
more beautiful than Dry Bench, she had in all her rambles failed to find
it. But when the secret of the big reservoir up in the hills came to her
knowledge, she wondered the more; and one member of the school board
from that moment rose to a higher place in her estimation; yes, went
past a long row of friends, up, shall it be said to the seat of honor?
Miss Wilton gave general satisfaction, and she was engaged for the next
school year.
For one whole year, the school teacher had passed the Ames farm twice
each day. She called often on Mrs. Ames, and Nina became her fast
friend. During those cool May mornings and afternoons, when the sky was
cloudless and the breeze came from the mountains, the young school
teacher passed up and down the road and fell to looking with pleasure on
the beautiful fields and orchards around her, and especially at the
Ames farm the central and most flourishing of them all. Perhaps it would
not be fair to analyze her thoughts too closely. She was yet young, only
twenty-two--Rupert's own age; yet Miss Wilton's experiences in this
world's school were greater than that of the simple young farmer's.
Had she designs on the Ames farm and its master? She had been in the
place a year only. How could such thoughts arise within such a little
head? How could such serious schemes brood behind such laughing lips and
sparkling eyes? Strange that such should be the case, but truth is
ofttimes strange.
Since the railroad had been extended through the valley, the town of
Willowby had grown wonderfully. Its long, straight streets enclosing the
rectangular squares, had not crept, but had sped swiftly out into the
country on all sides, and especially towards the mountains, until now
the Ames place was within the corporated city limits. Willowby soon
became a shipping point for grain and fruits to the markets which the
mining towns to the north afforded. The Ames orchard consisted of the
finest fruits which commanded a high price. Yes, the property was fast
making its owners rich.
Rupert Ames was a "rising young man," lacking the finished polish of a
higher education, no doubt, but still, he was no "green-horn." Even Miss
Wilton had to acknowledge that, when she became acquainted so that she
could speak freely with him. He was a shrewd business man and knew how
to invest his growing bank account. It was no secret that city lots and
business property were continually being added to his possessions.
As to home life at the farm, Miss Wilton was always charmed with the
kind hearted mother, the bright, cheerful Nina, and the handsome, sober
head of the family. Such a beautiful spirit of harmony brooded over the
place! Even within the year, the observant young woman could see signs
of culture and coming wealth. The repairing of old buildings, and the
erecting of the new ones; the repainting and decorating of rooms; the
addition of costly pictures and furniture; the beautifying of the
outside surroundings--all this was observed, and a mental note taken.
For a time Rupert Ames was quite reserved in the presence of the young
school teacher. Naturally reticent, he was more than ever shy in the
company of an educated lady from the East. Rupert never saw her but he
thought of the day of her arrival on Dry Bench and the time when he held
her in his arms. Never had he referred to the latter part of the
episode, though she often talked of her peculiar introduction to them.
At the end of the first year, Miss Wilton had so far shown that she was
but common flesh and blood that Rupert had been in her company to a
number of socials, and they had walked from church a few times together.
Dame gossip at once mated the two, and pronounced it a fine match.
Early in September they had a peach party at the Ames farm. Willowby's
young folks were there, and having a good time. When the sun sank
behind the hills on the other side of the valley, and the cool air came
from the eastern mountains, Chinese lanterns were hung on the trees, and
chairs and tables were placed on the lawn. There were cake and ice-cream
and peaches--peaches of all kinds, large and small, white and yellow,
juicy and dry; for this was a peach party, and everybody was supposed to
eat, at least, half a dozen.
The band, with Volmer Holm as leader, furnished the music; and beautiful
it was, as it echoed from the porch out over the assembly on the lawn.
When the strains of a waltz floated out, a dozen couples glided softly
over the velvety grass.
"That's fine music, Volmer," Rupert was saying to the bandmaster, as the
music ceased.
"Do you think so? We've practiced very much since our new organization
was effected. Will it do for a concert?"
"You know I'm no judge of music. I like yours, though, Volmer. What do
you say about it, Miss Wilton? Mr. Holm wishes to know if his music is
fit for a concert?"
"Most certainly it is," answered the young lady addressed, as she
stepped up with an empty peach basket. "Mr. Holm, I understand that last
piece is your own composition? If so, I must congratulate you; it is
most beautiful."
"Thank you," and he bowed as he gave the signal to begin again.
"Mr. Ames, more peaches are wanted--the big yellow ones. Where shall I
find them?"
"I'll get some--or, I'll go with you." He was getting quite bold.
Perhaps the music had something to do with that.
He did not take the basket, but led the way out into the orchard. It was
quite a distance to the right tree.
"That is beautiful music," said she. "Mr. Holm is a genius. He'll make
his mark if he keeps on."
"Yes, I understand that he is going East to study. That will bring him
out if there is anything in him."
There was a pause in the conversation; then Rupert remarked carefully,
as if feeling his way:
"Yes, there's talent in Volmer, but he makes music his god, which I
think is wrong."
"Do you think so?" she asked.
What that expression meant, it was hard to say.
"Yes, I think that no man should so drown himself in one thing that he
is absolutely dead to everything else. Mr. Holm does that. Volmer
worships nothing but music."
Rupert filled the basket and they sauntered back.
"A more beautiful god I cannot imagine," she said, half aloud.
Rupert turned with an inquiring look on his face, but he got nothing
more from her, as she was busy with a peach. Her straw hat was tilted
back on her head, and the wavy brown hair was somewhat in confusion.
School teaching had not, as yet, driven the roses from her cheeks, nor
the smiles from her lips. There was just enough of daylight left so
that Rupert could see Miss Wilton's big eye looking into his own. How
beautiful she was!
"Mr. Ames, before we get back to the company, I wish to ask you a
question. Mr. Holm has asked me to sing at his concert, and I should
like to help him, if the school trustees do not object."
"Why should they, Miss Wilton?"
"Well, some people, you know, are so peculiar."
"I assure you they will not care--that is, if it will not interfere with
your school duties."
"As to that, not a moment. I need no rehearsals as I am used to--that is
I--you see, I will sing some old song."
Miss Wilton's speech became unusually confused, and Rupert noticed it;
but just then Nina and her escort joined them, and they all went back to
the lawn.
"Miss Wilton's going to sing at the concert," Volmer told Rupert later
in the evening. "'Twill be a big help. She's a regular opera singer, you
know. She's been in the business. I heard her sing in Denver two years
ago, and she was with a troupe that passed through here some time since.
I remember her well, but of course I wouldn't say anything to her about
it. No doubt she wishes to forget it all."
"What do you mean?" asked Rupert, quite fiercely.
"I mean that her company then was not of the choicest, but I believe
she's all right and a good enough girl. Rupe, don't bother about that.
Perhaps I shouldn't have said anything to you."
"Oh, that's all right. I'm glad you mentioned it."
Still a dull, miserable pain fastened itself in Rupert Ames' heart the
rest of the evening; and even when the company had gone, and Miss Wilton
had lingered and sweetly said "Good-night," and the lights were out,
strange thoughts and feelings drove from his eyes the sleep that usually
came peacefully to him.
Rupert Ames was in love. The fact became the central idea of his
existence.
During Rupert's busy life, love affairs had not occupied much of his
attention. Of course, he, in common with the rest of young mankind,
thought that some day he would love some girl and make her his wife; but
it was always as a far-away dream to him, connected with an angelic
perfection which he always found missing in the workaday world. His wife
must be a pure, perfect creature. Marriage was a sacred thing--one of
the great events in a person's life. Not that these views had now
changed altogether, for Miss Virginia Wilton came nearer his ideal than
anyone he had yet met. Still, there was considerable of the tangible
present about her. She was educated, businesslike, and a leader, and he,
ambitious of attaining to something in the world, would need such a
woman for his wife. But that sting which Volmer Holm had given him! His
wife must be beyond suspicion. He could not afford to make a mistake,
for if he did, it would be the mistake of his life. But was it a sin for
a girl to sing in an opera? Certainly not. Anyway, he would not condemn
her unheard--and then, he was sure he loved her. It had come to him
unbidden. It was no fault of his that this girl should have come into
his common life, and, seemingly, completely change it.
The autumn days passed. With the work of harvesting and marketing there
was no time for social gatherings. The school teacher had changed her
boarding place, and her path lay no longer past the Ames farm. So Rupert
mingled his thoughts with his labors, and in time there emerged from
that fusion a fixed purpose.
That fall Rupert's time as school trustee expired. At the first meeting
of the new board, Miss Wilton's position was given to a male teacher.
The reason given for the change was that "It takes a man to govern
boys." Other reasons, however, could be heard in the undercurrent of
talk.
The first Sunday after he heard of it, Rupert found Miss Wilton, and
together they walked up the canyon road. It was a dull, cloudy day, and
not a breath moved the odorous choke-cherry bushes which lined the dusty
road. Never mind what was said and done that afternoon. 'Tis an old, old
story. Between woman's smiles and tears, the man gained hope and
courage, and when that evening they came down the back way through the
fields and orchards, Virginia Wilton was Rupert Ames' promised wife.