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Marcia, fresh as a flower from its morning dew in spite of her cry the night before, had arisen to new opportunities for service. She was glad with the joyous forgetfulness of youth when she looked at David’s happy face, and she thought no more of Kate’s treatment of herself.
Her face turned white and her hand began to tremble so that she dropped the curtain she had been holding up. Just then came David’s clear voice, louder than would have been necessary, and pitched as if he were calling to some one upstairs, though he knew she was just inside the parlor where she had gone to make sure of the window fastening. “Come, dear! Aren’t you ready?
It was a very nice play she was going through, and David was handsome, and her young heart swelled with pride to belong to him, but after all there was something left out. A great lack, a great unknown longing unsatisfied. What was it? What made it? Was it David’s sorrow? She turned with a sigh as he disappeared around a curve in the sidewalk and was lost to view.
For a moment she longed with all the intensity of a child for her father’s house and the shelter of his loving protection, amply supported by her stepmother’s capable, self-sufficient, comforting countenance. Her heart sank with the fear that she would never be able to do justice to the position of David’s wife, and David would be disappointed in her and sorry he had accepted her sacrifice.
It was quite a little court she held sitting there in the chaise by David’s side. Men who have since won a mention in the pages of history were there that day, and nearly all of them had a word for David Spafford and his lovely wife. Many of them stood for some time and talked with her. Mr.
In the heart of the maiden there stirred a something which she did not quite understand, something brought to life by the sight of her sister’s daguerreotype lying at the edge of the valence, where it must have fallen from David’s pocket without his knowledge as he lay asleep.
And where will you go? You will not want to go home just yet?” He paused, a new agony of the knowledge of David’s part coming to him. “No, I cannot go home,” said David hopelessly, a look of keen pain darting across his face, “for the house will be all ready for her, and the table set. The friends will be coming in, and we are invited to dinner and tea everywhere.
She went up to her white chamber and lay down upon the pillow, whose case was fragrant of lavendar blossoms, dreaming with a smile of to-morrow. She thought she was riding in a strange new railroad train with David’s arm about her and Harry Temple running along at his very best pace to try to catch them, but he could not.
They were to go to the aunts’ to tea that evening, and after tea a company of David’s old friends—or rather the old friends of David’s aunts—were coming in to meet them. This the aunts had planned: but it seemed they had not counted her worthy to be told of the plans, and had only divulged them to David.
To the north shines the circle of the starry Sieve,141 through which God, as they say, gifted grains of corn, when he cast them down from heaven for Adam our father, who had been banished for his sins from paradise. Somewhat higher, David’s Car,142 ready for mounting, turns its long pole towards the north star.
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