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Updated: June 11, 2025
Upon their arrival home he directed the chauffeur to get his dinner or luncheon and return, and after the Hollister luncheon, Nora, Harvey, Ethel and Tom went to Van Courtlandt Park, where there was skating, returning in time for six o'clock dinner. "I think, ma'am," said Mr. Casey, "we have monopolized your car pretty well, and you never have been inside of it." "But I'm too busy, Mr. Casey.
The Camp life has done you some good, and there you were so down on it." "Yes, I was, but people change. Look at yourself," replied she seriously. "Mrs. Hollister," said he, "I've been here only one week, but I already feel that I'm another man. It's splendid for both boy and girl. It's a boon to be able to get away from city people and fashionable resorts.
You shall never regret it." Then they sought Mr. Hollister and were closeted with him for a long time, after which Grandmother and Aunt Susan had to be told, and lastly Nora. So that Christmas brought two engagements in the Hollister circle. Ethel decided to finish college before marrying, and Nora her school. The men had to be content. "We'll have one more year at Camp anyway," said Nora.
Hollister sat there looking up at the far places, the high, white mountain crests, the deep gorges, the paths that the winter slides had cut through the green forest, down which silvery cataracts poured now. It seemed to have undergone some subtle change, to have become less aloof, to have enveloped itself in a new and kindlier atmosphere. Yet he knew it was as it had always been.
He had struggled desperately against the unescapable, recognizing certain significant facts and in the same breath denying their accumulated force in sheer self-defense. A small dressing-table topped by an oval mirror stood against the wall beside his bed. Hollister took his unseeing gaze off the door with a start, like a man withdrawing his mind from wandering in far places.
Hollister looked away to the west where the deep flame-red of low, straggling clouds shaded off into orange and pale gold that merged by imperceptible tints into the translucent clearness of the upper sky. The red ball of the sun showed only a small segment above the mountains. In ten minutes it would be gone. From the east dusk walked silently down to the sea.
Hollister held her fast, dismayed, startled, wondering, at a loss to comfort her. "But I can't see it," she cried. "I'll never see it again. Oh, Bob, Bob! Sometimes I can't stand this blackness. Never to see you never to see the sun or the stars never to see the hills, the trees, the grass. Always to grope. Always night night night without beginning or end."
And as this insensate mass plunged downward, the small trees and the great, the thickets and the low salal, everything that stood in its path, was overwhelmed and crushed and utterly destroyed. To what end? For what purpose? It was just the same with man, Hollister thought. If he got in the way of forces greater than himself, he was crushed.
Hollister could imagine him roused to blind, blundering fury by the least suspicious action on Myra's part. Bland was the type that, once aroused, acts like an angry bull, with about as much regard or understanding of consequences. Hollister had been measuring Bland for a year, and the last two or three weeks had given him the greatest opportunity to do so.
Hollister would sit in the evening on the low stoop before his cabin and Doris would sit beside him with her hand on his knee. A spirit of drowsy content would rest upon them. Hollister's eyes would see the river, gray now with the glacial discharge, slipping quietly along between the fringes of alder and maple, backed by the deeper green of the fir and cedar and groves of enormous spruce.
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