Their Mariposa Legend; a romance of Santa Catalina by Charlotte Bronte Herr
page 57 of 75 (76%)
page 57 of 75 (76%)
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designated a "plump little fry" to be served at the cosy table for two
in the sunniest window of the dining room, a luxury which Blair had likewise confiscated in the interests of business. And so for seven glorious days they tramped the fragrant hills, or sailed a sea as softly blue as though fallen fresh that morning from the cloudless heaven above. In the warmth and glow of his friendship the starved heart of the little art teacher opened like some hot-house flower carried suddenly into the wide outdoors. And when at last the week drew to an end, their work, both his and hers, was still unfinished, so that there was nothing else to do but to live on through another fully as wonderful. Blair himself took things much more for granted, and even when their talk strayed farthest afield it was plain to the girl that his mind never fully lost sight of the purpose for which he had come. His work stood always first, while, - she blushed to own it even to herself, - she had sometimes entirely forgotten her own. At the end of the third week they had seen almost everything he considered essential and at times she sensed in his manner, even when he was least aware of it, a kind of repressed impatience. She knew what it meant and shivered. Presently he would leave her, and life would become again the same dull round of work. Only one spot of real importance remained unvisited, - the cavern bower above the Bay of Moons. Of this he had spoken frequently, and well she knew he held it the climax of his search. But for reasons best known to herself Miss Hastings put off from day to day this final expedition until Blair began to chaff at the delay. |
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