"It is very beautiful," I said, "and equally true, no doubt, but I had
never thought of it in just that way. I love this life because I can't
help but love it. The forests, the meadows, the fields, and the brooks
are what my soul craves; yet if you ask me why, I cannot tell you. I
have been happier the few short weeks I have spent in your home than I
was all the rest of my life. Since you have come, my happiness has
deepened."
I dared not look up, but kept my eyes on the four-leaf clover I was
plucking to pieces.
"I'm glad I've helped make your visit pleasant."
Her voice was in the same low sweet tones which she had before employed,
and I knew by this she attached no particular significance to my last
sentence.
"When mother wrote me that you had come to board with us, I was a little
displeased, for I was jealous of the sweet accord in which we all dwelt,
and did not want it marred. But when she told me all about you, and
your habits, my feelings changed. I do not wish to draw any unjust
comparisons, but there are very few people with tastes and inclinations
like yours and mine,--don't you think so?"
This naïve frankness almost amused me.
"I think you are right. I never knew any one who would care for just the
things we do, and they are certainly the most innocent pleasures which
the world affords."
A sudden darkening of the landscape and a breath of cool air accentuated
the silence which fell at this point. We both looked up, and saw the
edge of a blue-black cloud peeping over the shoulder of a northwestern
hill.
"I'm afraid we'll get wet," said Salome, rising hastily, and surveying
her airy garments dubiously. "There isn't even a cabin between here and
home. I wouldn't care a fig, but mother always hates for me to be out in
a storm. We can only do our best, and walk rapidly."
With the salt bucket in my left hand, and her hand in my right, I helped
her up the hill the best I could. Fido limped behind. He had been lost
nearly all the time since we started,--chasing rabbits, doubtless,--and
had only made his appearance a few moments before the cloud startled us.
We gained the pike directly, and as we hurried towards the wheat-field
the cloud grew with alarming rapidity, and a scroll-work of flame began
to show about its outer edges.
"Isn't it beautiful?" whispered Salome. "But we're going to catch it."
And we did. Half-way across the wheat-field the first big drops
splashed against our faces, blown by strong gusts of wind. I gazed
around helplessly for shelter. A few yards to our right rose the
cumbersome shape of a last year's straw-rick; it was better than
nothing.
"Come!" I said, taking her arm firmly. "I'll find you shelter."
She consented silently, and I crushed a path for her through the ripe
grain until we reached the rick. The rain was beginning to pelt us
sharply. Furiously I went to work, tearing out straw by the handfuls,
armfuls, and in a few seconds I had excavated a hole large enough for
Salome to enter in a crouching posture.
"Get in!" I commanded. I think she little liked the tone of authority I
had assumed, for if there ever was a petted being, it was she, yet she
obeyed, and cuddled up in her refuge out of reach of the driving rain.
I sat down by the side of her covert, and rested my back against the
rick. I also turned up my coat-collar, and pulled my hat well down upon
my head; but I soon saw that a good soaking was in store for me.
"Why don't you come in, too?" she asked in guileless innocence. "I can
make room for you, and you will surely get wet out there. Aren't you
afraid of rheumatism? Father has it if he gets his toe damp."
"I'll get along all right," I replied. "There doesn't much rain strike
me, and I never had the rheumatism in my life."
I didn't tell her of the trouble with my breathing, and the attack that
would be almost sure to follow this exposure.
We both grew quiet after this, and listened to the swish of the rain and
the mighty howling of the wind. It had grown very dark, and the air was
chilly. The lightning was incessant, and traced zigzag pathways of fire
across the sombre heavens. The thunder was terrific, and often shook the
solid earth. I asked Salome if she was not afraid, but she laughed from
her snug retreat, and said she loved it all. What manner of girl was
this, who feared nothing, and who loved Nature even when she was at war
with herself?
The strife of the elements ceased as suddenly as it had begun. The
thunder rumbled away in the east; the rain stopped falling, and a rift
of blue showed through the dun masses overhead. This was followed by a
broad shaft of sunlight, which struck on the golden sea around us with a
shimmering radiance. I jokingly called Salome a "hayseed" when she
emerged from her shelter, for her brown hair was sprinkled with wisps of
straw. She ignored the epithet in her solicitation for my welfare, and
proceeded straightway to place her hand upon my shoulders and back to
see if I was wet.
"You're soaking!" she declared in genuine alarm. "You must have a hot
whiskey toddy and six grains of quinine the minute you get home!"
I made a wry face; but she only shook her head in a determined way, and
announced that she would see to it in person. As for herself, she was as
dry as a butterfly which had just emerged from a chrysalis, and I
congratulated myself upon the care I had taken of her. But before we
reached home she was in a plight almost equal to my own, for the wind
had blown the wheat across the path, and it was impossible for me to
remove it entirely.
As a consequence, her ladyship was at once hustled off to bed by good
Mrs. Grundy, and treated to the same remedy she had prescribed for me. I
took a rather stiff toddy, and changed my clothes, and felt no ill
effects from my experience.
After the first wild flush which had attended the discovery of the
awakening of my affection for this girl had subsided, I became, in a
degree, calmer. But it was there, deep in my soul, and I could feel it
growing, growing, as steadily as my heart was beating. And I was old
enough to know that in time it would conquer me, and drag me to her feet
like a fettered slave before his master. My will seemed, in a measure,
paralyzed, and I made no effort to escape. Something warned me that it
would be useless. And so I drifted, living in a careless sort of lotos
dream, which I could have wished would last forever. Now there were
scented, joyful days, when we strolled through dales and wooded hollows,
listening to Nature's great orchestra as it played its never-ending
symphony. Perfect nights, when the heavy air would be redolent of the
honeysuckles' wafted souls and the breath of sleepy roses. From the
cabins in the locust grove would float the tinkling of the banjo, the
untrained guffaw of the negro men, and the wild, half-barbaric notes of
an old-time melody. And the stars would shine in glory above us, and we
would sit on the steps and talk of the things we both loved. The old
folks on the settee would get sleepy and go in, and we would sit there
by the hour, and still my secret was my own. I think she guessed it, but
this blissful existence was too sweet to be ended by some foolish words
which had better remain forever in my heart, even though they ate it
out.