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Updated: June 4, 2025
He lived with it in the darkness of midnight and in the loneliness of the hills. He had never loved Helen. Always he had loved Mel Iden all his life. Clear as a crystal he saw the truth. The war with its ruin for both of them had only augmented the powers to love. Lane's year of agony in Middleville had been the mere cradling of a mounting and passionate love.
"I'm sorry to tell you Daren Lane has lost his standing in Middleville." The hum and the honk of a motor-car sounded in the street. "Poor Daren! What's he done?... Any old day he'll care!" Mrs. Maynard was looking out of the window. "Here comes a crowd of girls.... Helen Wrapp has a new suit. Well, I'll go down. And after they leave I want a serious talk with you."
Since he had left Middleville he had seen great cities, palaces, castles, edifices, he had crossed great rivers, he had traveled thousands of miles, he had looked down some of the famous thoroughfares of the world. Was this then the reason that Middleville, upon his arrival, seemed so strange, sordid, shrunken, so vastly changed?
He and Dick Swann and Hardy MacLean sometimes drop in at the Armory on Saturday nights. Captain Thesel is chasing Mrs. Clemhorn now. They're always together.... Daren, did he ever have it in for you?" "He never liked me. We never got along here in Middleville. And naturally in the service when he was a captain and I only a private we didn't get along any better."
Lane responded as best he could, and presently he found himself standing at the curb, watching the car move away. "Come out to-morrow," called back Blair. The Maynard's car was carrying his comrades away. His first feeling was one of gladness the next of relief. He could be alone now alone to find out what had happened to him, and to this strange Middleville.
Plain it was that they felt themselves a shade removed from this younger and newer member of society. But they could not show direct antagonism to her influence any more than they could understand the common sense and justice of her arguments. "No one will ever invite him again," declared Mrs. Maynard. "He's done in Middleville," echoed Mrs. Kingsley. And that perhaps was a gauntlet thrown.
When he pushed open a door on which MANTON & CO. showed in black letters he caught his breath. Long long past! Was it possible that he had been penned up for three years in this stifling place? Manton carried on various lines of business, and for Middleville, he was held to be something of a merchant and broker.
"No, I forgot to get some of those lovely chocolates that new drug store sells. They were delicious. For a country town I never ate better." "Grace, you are hopeless!" sighed Betty. "Come along, girls, do, or she'll insist on going back for them. And we must get to Middleville on time. It won't do to fall back in our schedule any more."
"Middleville!" echoed Lane, musingly. "Home!... Blair, does it hit you kind of queer? Do you long, yet dread to get home?" Maynard had no reply for that query, but his look was expressive. "I've not heard from Helen for over a year," went on Lane, more as if speaking to himself. "My God, Dare!" exclaimed his companion, with sudden fire. "Are you still thinking of her?"
He did not mind that two of the chaperones stared at him in supercilious curiosity, as if speculating on a possible faux pas of his at this dance. Both boys and girls he had met since his return to Middleville, and some he had known before, encountered him face to face, and cut him dead. He heard sarcastic remarks. He was an outsider, a "dead one," a "has been" and a "lemon."
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