Prev | Current Page 391 | Next

Mitchell, S. Weir (Silas Weir), 1829-1914

"Westways"

"
While with the doctor and when angrily leaving him, she was the easy
victim of a storm of emotions. As she felt the healthy sting of the dry
cold, she began the process of re-adjustment we are wise to practise
after a time of passion when by degrees facts and motives begin to
reassume more just proportions. He had said, the war would last long.
That she had not believed. Could she and James live for years afraid to
speak of what was going on? The fact that her much-loved Maryland did not
rise as one man and join the Confederacy had disturbed her with her first
doubt as to the final result of the great conflict. She thought it over
with lessening anger at the terrible thing McGregor had said, "You two
are drifting apart." This sentence kept saying itself over and over.
"Stop, Billy." She was back again in the world of everyday. "Get in, Mr.
Rivers. We are both late for our Dante." As she spoke, an oppressed pine
below which he stood under a big umbrella was of a mind to bear its load
no longer and let fall a bushel or so of snow on the clergyman's cover.
His look of bewilderment and his upward glance as if for some human
explanation routed from Ann's mind everything except amusement over this
calamity.
"You must not mind if I laugh." She took for granted the leave to
laugh, as he said, "I don't see where the fun comes in.


Pages:
379 380 381 382 383 384 385 386 387 388 389 390 391 392 393 394 395 396 397 398 399 400 401 402 403