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Updated: May 11, 2025
But now that the hour had arrived he found his day-dreamings of the past were as vague and unreliable as guides as his idea of heaven, that state of mind which Marcia Lowe always insisted was here and now, or nowhere at all! Well, he would go to the Cup-of-Cold-Water Lady and get a more concise conception of heaven and Massachusetts, if possible.
From a grim shadow of his former self he regained his health and looks; he nodded to Cynthia when he met her on The Way and the girl tossed her head at him indifferently. Only Marcia Lowe was anxious. "Cynthia," she said, "promise me that you will not wander in the woods alone!" "Not without a pistol," the girl replied. "I'm a mighty good shot, dear Cup-of-Cold-Water Lady!"
It was during the probation and preparatory period that Marcia Lowe, the Cup-of-Cold-Water Lady, came up The Way one golden afternoon and stopped her horse before the post office, General Store and County Club of The Hollow, and, leaning out from the ramshackle buggy, gave a rather high, nasal call to whoever might be within.
The time of this story is not to-day nor is it very many yesterdays ago; it was just before young Sandy Morley had his final "call" and obeyed it; just after the Cup-of-Cold-Water Lady came to Trouble Neck three miles from The Hollow and while she was still distrusted and feared. Away back in the days of the Revolution the people of the hills were of the best.
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