But oh! Brace, it is great--this blessed home life of mine!
The coming away from my beloved work to something even better."
* * * * *
The pulse of a city throbs faster in the winter. All the vitality of
well-nourished men and women is at its fullest, while for them who fall
below the normal, the necessity of the struggle for existence keys them
to a high pitch. Not so in the deep, far mountain places. There, the
inhabitants hide from the elements and withdraw into themselves. For
weeks at a time no human being ventures forth from the shelter and
comparative comfort of the dull cabins. Families, pressed thus close and
debarred from the freedom of the open, suffer mentally and spiritually
as one from the wider haunts of men can hardly conceive.
When Nella-Rose turned away from Truedale that golden autumn day, she
faced winter and the shut-in terrors of the cold and loneliness. In two
weeks the last vestige of autumn would be past, and the girl could not
contemplate being imprisoned with Marg and her father while waiting for
love to return to her. She paused on the wet, leafy path and considered.
She had told Truedale that she would go home, but what did it matter.
She would go to Miss Lois Ann's. She would know when Truedale returned;
she could go to him. In the meantime no human being would annoy her or
question her in that cabin far back in the Hollow.
Pages:
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175