A Village Ophelia and Other Stories by Anne Reeve Aldrich
page 53 of 94 (56%)
page 53 of 94 (56%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
which I sent, with a letter to Mr. ----. We sat talking on the porch,
watching the moon rise and flood the dew-wet fields with a tide of white radiance. Occasionally we heard Mr. or Mrs. Hopper in the lamp-lit sitting-room making brief comments on neighborhood gossip, or the crops, and then Mrs. Hopper would go on silently sewing, and "Pa," his white head bent over a "Farmer's Almanac," made long and painful calculations on a scrap of paper in which he seemed to get much mysterious assistance from the almanac. Without, the cool night air touched my face gently. My head was burning and fevered with the day's emotions, but I felt the infinite peace of the evening calming me. "No," I said firmly, "indeed I have decided wisely, Mr. Longworth. I am going back to my old work cheerfully, and shall never think again of my--my disappointment. I believe I can easily get work on my old paper, the "_Courier_," and I have been offered an editorial position on a new fashion paper, beside my weekly letter to the "_Red CaƱon Gazette_.'" Naturally I did not tell him that I had spent all my savings of a year on this planned vacation, when I was to finish the book that should reimburse me. "You shall not go back to that wretched drudgery," said Mr. Longworth, in his impetuous, nervous manner. "Do not imagine you are ever to do it again. Tell me," he said, lowering his voice, and leaning toward me so that he could see my face, shaded by the vine-hung trellis. "Could you be happy--" We heard Mr. Hopper moving around the room uneasily, and instinctively Mr. Longworth paused. |
|