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Updated: May 26, 2025
"Why, Austin, you know how I lo care for Fred, and that I gave him my word more than two years ago! Besides, I heard you say yourself, before you knew he fancied me, that Hugh Elliott drank and did all sorts of other dreadful things he wouldn't be considered respectable in Hamstead." Austin laughed again. "All right. I won't bring up the subject again.
The only thing that really counts is to have you happy! And since I've realized that I find that I'm not afraid of anything in the whole world and that I want to belong to you as much and as soon as you can possibly want to have me!" It was many months before Hamstead stopped talking about the "Graduation Ball of that year."
"How lovely the valley is!" she said aloud at last; "I don't believe there's a prettier stretch of road in the whole world than this between Wallacetown and Hamstead, especially in the spring, when the river is so high, and everything is looking so fresh and green."
Austin had been all the way from Hamstead to White Water that day, stopping on his way back at Wallacetown, to bring Sally, who taught school there, home for over Sunday; his little old horse, never either strong or swift, was tired and hot and muddy, and hung its unkempt head dejectedly, apparently having lost all willingness to drag the dilapidated top-buggy and its two occupants another step.
I've felt so so tired ever since, I just had to get away somewhere away from the noise, and the hurry, and the crowds of people I know. I was in Hamstead once, ten years ago, and I remembered it, and came back. I want most dreadfully to stay could you possibly make room for me here?" "Oh, you poor lamb!
Close team-work between them and the dwellers in Hamstead, White Water, and other villages near at hand, would have worked out for the advantage of both. But unfortunately they did not realize this. Wallacetown was also the only town in the vicinity where a man "could raise a thirst" as Austin put it, Vermont being "dry," and New Hampshire, at this time, "local option."
They broke into the listlessness of that dreary place, where nothing seemed to be going on, with a sudden real purpose, fast but unhurried, and moved towards the shaft. Three Yorkshire rescue experts one of them to die later with the Hamstead manager explaining the path they should follow below with eager seriousness.
As the livery-stable in Hamstead boasted only four turn-outs, it was not strange that Austin recognized one of them at sight, and as strangers were few and far between, they were objects of considerable interest. Sally leaned forward. "No, she doesn't. She's all in black and my! isn't she pretty? She seems to be stopping and looking around why don't you ask her if you could be of any help?"
She was going away almost immediately, would inevitably marry some one before very long, Mr. Jessup at least held a dignified position and possessed a good education, and if she married him, she would come back to Hamstead, they could see her once in a while Having tried to comfort himself with these cheering reflections, he started down the stairs, inwardly cursing.
Besides, there were two poolrooms and a wide street paved with asphalt, and brilliantly lighted down both sides. Trains ran and stopped by night as well as by day, and Sundays as well as week-days. In short, Wallacetown was up-to-date. That alone, in the eyes of Hamstead, was enough to condemn it.
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