Part 7 (2/2)

”Honey,” her mother called, ”what yer up ter?”

”Nothing,” Hertha answered, ”only fixing to do something for you and Ellen, and now I'm going to bed myself.”

For a week she never let the thought of the morning's happiness take possession of her mind. It might press close, but it encountered a wall of resolution that held it back. She made her way to her work among the chickens and pigs through the pines to the kitchen door. Miss Patty liked to have her about, and when the work in the rooms was finished often called her to her side. She and Miss Witherspoon had taken to spending a part of their afternoons over a new and elaborate kind of embroidery, and Hertha was essential to Miss Patty's accomplishment.

Indeed, after Hertha had counted st.i.tches and drawn threads and outlined the pattern, Miss Patty's part became a last triumphant progress. During this period of the day, when the women were on the gallery, Lee would often join them. He and Miss Witherspoon found many things to talk about, for the Boston woman had a keen interest in this southern youth who had gotten the best out of his studies and returned ambitious to bring new life to his ancestral acres. ”You're quite a missionary,” she said once to his aunt's disgust. Lee might fuss about his trees if he liked, but business ac.u.men was a little vulgar and at the least should be concealed, while criticism of the South, the suggestion that it was a mission field, was rank impertinence.

Sometimes Lee brought a book and read to them here and there, for Miss Patty did not care for a continuous story. One afternoon it was a poem written by a cla.s.smate who had died before his college days were over.

Coming from one who left the earth so young, its promise of future endeavor, of service to humanity, made it a tragic little verse. Miss Patty wiped her eyes when it was over and called on Hertha to set her work right. During these times Lee never spoke to Hertha nor seemed to look in her direction, but he always knew when she had left the porch and rarely stayed long after her absence. Miss Patty felt pleased that her Boston guest was interesting her boy so that she had more of his company.

On Sunday Ellen proposed to her sister that they take a walk, and they went among the pines and dark cypresses, through the swamp, and by the black creek. It was hot and humid, the mosquitoes were annoying, and they were both tired when they returned to the cabin steps.

”I don't like this time of year,” Hertha said when they sat down. ”It's so silent. The birds ceased singing long ago; they only call to one another now.”

”The mosquitoes haven't ceased singing, I notice,” Ellen replied, laughing. ”Now I like this time of year best of all. October means the beginning of cool weather and work.”

When Hertha went to her room that night a little breeze greeted her as she sat down by her window. It was cloudy at first, but in a few moments the clouds broke and the moonlight streamed upon the dark trees and the white sand. She watched the moon sailing through the clouds, she smelt the roses by the porch, and the wall that her will had built against her sweet and rapturous thoughts broke down, and with a rush her spirit was swept with tumultuous love.

”Cinderella,” Lee said to her the next morning as she turned into the orange grove, ”you've been a shockingly long time coming.”

”I know it,” she answered, ”but there were so many things to think of, sitting by the fire.”

”Don't think,” he urged. ”I've given it up. Don't think, but live.”

And this time she lifted up her face and, without a thought, gave him a kiss.

CHAPTER V

”Hertha,” Ellen said the next afternoon, ”have you any plans for the future?”

School had just closed, Miss Patty had given her maid an afternoon off, and the two sisters were walking together toward their home.

”Any plans?” Hertha was startled. ”I thought our plans were made for good when we came here.”

”I hope not!” Ellen declared decidedly. ”I'm willing to work here now for next to nothing, but I shall try for a bigger job some day; and you, honey, you don't always want to be Miss Patty's maid.”

”I don't know; why shouldn't I?”

”This is a dull life for you, Hertha. Sometimes I think we ought never to have come here.”

”Ellen!”

”It's different for mammy and me; we're older.”

”You're only four years older than I.”

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