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In her semi-engagement with Silverthorn, she had probably been loving Vibbard through his friend. But when the strong man, who had gained a place in the world for her sake, returned and placed his heart before her, she could no longer make a mistake. Silverthorn would not keep the money, neither could his friend persuade him to come and take a share in his business. He would not leave Stansby.
She bent her head again, perhaps with some acknowledgment of my bow, but not definitely for that purpose, because she continued reading as she passed me. But now came the strangest part of the episode. This girl disappeared around the bend of the road, and after her two young fellows drew near whom I recognized as Vibbard and Silverthorn.
"Did John send you this way? Have you seen him?" she asked, falteringly. "No," said Vibbard. "From where I happened to be, I thought I could get here sooner by walking over through Bartlett. Besides, it was pleasanter to come my own way instead of by railroad." "But how did you know me?" "I have never forgotten how you looked. And besides, that lilac."
I cannot even marry, unless he gets enough to give me a start." I left him with a dreary misgiving in my heart. What an unhappy outcome of their compact was this! Meanwhile, Vibbard was thriving. After a brief sojourn with his father, who was a well-to-do hardware merchant in his own small inland city, he went to Virginia and began sheep-farming.
"I suppose I've been growing sensitive since I first perceived that I was dependent on your fortune. It has unmanned me. I believe I might have done something, but for this." "Gad, so might I be doing something, now, if I had my whole capital," muttered Vibbard. He did not see how his remark renewed the wound he had just been trying to heal.
When he was excited, his face wore a fierce aspect; when he felt friendly, it became almost foolishly sentimental; as a general thing it was morosely inert. Being in my senior year, I did not see much of either Vibbard or his friend; but I sometimes occupied myself with attempts to analyze the sources of their intimacy.
I remember stating to one of my young acquaintances that Vibbard probably had a secret longing to be feminine and ideal, and that Silverthorn felt himself at fault in masculine toughness and hardihood, so that each sought the companionship of the other, hoping to gain some of the qualities which he himself lacked; and my young acquaintance offended me by replying, as if it had all been perfectly obvious, "Of course."
"We asked each other who the original of the picture was," he said. "We did not know. The face lies there. Look!" For that which life had denied her, Death had given. Scribner's Monthly, August, 1878. Everybody in college who knew them at all was curious to see what would come of a friendship between two persons so opposite in tastes, habitudes and appearance as John Silverthorn and Bill Vibbard.
It was answer enough for his friend. Vibbard came over and knelt beside him, and tried to rouse him. He stroked his pale brown hair, and called him repeatedly "Dear old boy." "Poor Thorny, I wish I could do something for you," he said, gently. "Are you sure you understood her?" The other suddenly looked up. "Don't blame her, Bill," he said, beseechingly. "Don't let it hurt your love for her.
It turned out, on inquiry, that only Vibbard was of age; his friend being quick in study, had entered college early, and nearly two years stood between him and his majority; so that, if their contract was to be binding, they would have to defer it for that length of time. I was prepared for their disappointment; but Silverthorn, after an instant's reflection, seemed quite satisfied.
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