THE FIRST STEP
It was Sunday night in mid-winter. After church, David remained for a
trustees' meeting, and Carol walked home with some of the younger ones
of the congregation. When they asked if she wished them to wait with
her for David she shook her head, smiling gratefully but with weariness.
"No, thank you. I am going right straight to bed. I am tired."
Into the little manse she crept, sinking into the first easy chair that
presented itself. With slow listless fingers she removed her wraps,
dropping them on the floor beside her,--laboriously unbuttoned and
removed her shoes, and in the same lifeless manner loosened her dress
and took the pins from her hair. Then, holding her garments about her,
she went in search of night dress, slippers and negligee. A few
seconds later she returned and curled herself up with some cushions on
the floor before the fireplace.
"Ought to make some coffee,--David's so hungry after
church,--too--dead--tired--Ummmmm." Her voice trailed off into a
murmur and she closed her eyes.
David found her so, soundly sleeping, her hair curling about her face.
He knelt down and kissed her. She opened one eye.
"Coffee?" she queried automatically.
"I should say not. Go to bed." He sprawled full length on the floor,
his head against her arm.
"Worn out, aren't you, David?"
"Well, I'm ready for bed; Such a day! Did you have time for Mrs.
Garder before Endeavor?"
"Yes, she knew me too. I am glad I went. She had been waiting for me.
They say it is only a few days now. The way of a minister's wife is
hard sometimes. She wanted me to sing _Lead Kindly Light_, and was so
puzzled and confused when I insisted I couldn't sing. She thought
ministers' wives always sang. I know she is disappointed in me now.
If the Lord foreknew that I was going to marry a minister, why didn't
He foreordain that I should sing?"
David laughed, but attempted no explanation.
"Did you get along all right at the Old Ladies' Home?"
"Oh, fine. The girls sang beautifully, and I read the Bible lesson
without mispronouncing a single word. Did the boys miss me at the
Hollow?"
"Yes, they said they needed you worse than the old ladies. Maybe they
were right. We must save your Sunday afternoons for them after this.
They do need you."
"Did you have supper with the Baldwins?"
"Yes. You stayed with Mrs. Norris, didn't you?"
"Yes. Um, I am sleepy."
David coughed slightly.
"Get up off this floor, David Duke," scolded Carol. "Don't you know
that floors are always drafty? I am surprised at you. I wish Prudence
was here to make you soak your feet in hot water and drink peppermint
tea."
"You work too hard, Carol. You are busy every minute."
"Yes. I have to be, to keep in hailing distance of you. You usually
do about three things at once."
"It's been a good year, Carol. You've enjoyed it, spite of everything,
haven't you?"
"It's been the most wonderful year one could dream of. Even Connie's
literary imagination could not conjure up a sweeter one."
"Always something to do, something to think of, some one to
see,--always on the alert, to-day crowded full, to-morrow to look
forward to."
"And best of all, David, always with you, working with you, taking care
of you,--always-- Oh, I am tired, but it is not so bad being tired out
when you've done your level best."
"Carol, it is fine, labor is, it is life. I can't imagine an existence
without it. Going to bed, worn out with the day, rising in the morning
ready to plunge in over one's ears. It is the only real life there is.
How do people endure a drifting through the days, with never anything
to do and never worn enough to sleep?"
"I don't know," said Carol promptly. "They aren't alive, that's sure.
But let's go to bed. David, please get off that floor and stop
coughing."
David obediently got up, lightly dusting his trousers as he did so.
Then he lifted his arms high and breathed deeply. "Anyhow it is better
to be tired than lazy, isn't it?"