Part 36 (1/2)

Her father looked up quickly at the suggestion.

”Capital!” he exclaimed. ”It's just what I need. I am becoming too moody, and the fresh air will revive me.”

He was almost like a child now in his eagerness to be off. With his stout cane in one hand, and leaning upon his daughter's arm, he moved slowly along the dry road, through the village and out into the country where the houses were few.

”Oh, this is life, grand, true life!” and he stood for a few minutes looking far away across the broad fields. The air laden with the freshness of spring drifted about them; the birds flitting overhead were pouring forth their joyous music, while on every side early flowers were lifting their tiny heads. All nature seemed to combine to give a glad welcome to these two wayfarers.

At length, coming to a cross road, Nellie paused.

”Look, father,” and she pointed to a large tree near by. ”What a cool, shady spot! Suppose we rest there for a while, and I will read some from the little book I have brought with me.”

Willingly Mr. Westmore conceded to her wish, and soon they were snugly seated on the gra.s.sy sward. With his back against the tree, Parson John breathed a sigh of relief as he wiped the perspiration from his forehead with a large, white handkerchief.

So absorbed did they both become in the book that neither noticed the black clouds which had been gathering away to the south, and were now rolling up fearful and threatening beneath the sun. A distant peal of thunder, followed by a bright flash of lightning, startled them.

”A storm is coming!” exclaimed Nellie, springing to her feet. ”We must hurry home at once! The road to the right is shorter. I know it quite well; we had better take that.”

They had not proceeded far, however, before the peals of thunder became more intense, and soon large drops of rain came spattering down.

”We're in for a heavy storm,” panted Mr. Westmore. ”It's about to burst upon us. We must seek shelter!”

”There's a house right ahead,” Nellie replied. ”Perhaps we can get in there.”

They plodded on in silence now, and turned in at a little gate none too soon. Scarcely had they entered the small porch in front of the house ere the storm broke. Hail, mingled with rain, came thundering down upon the roof, and, das.h.i.+ng against the gla.s.s, threatened to smash in every pane.

The thunder crashed and shook the house, while the lightning streaked the air with blinding flashes.

”This is terrible!” exclaimed Nellie, clinging to her father's arm, her face very white. ”We must get into the house!”

They knocked upon the door, but received no response. Again they rapped louder than before, and at length a key was slowly turned and a woman, neatly dressed and fair to look upon, peered timidly forth. A relieved look came into her face as she saw the two standing there.

”Come in,” she said, giving a little nervous laugh. ”This fearful storm has quite overcome me.”

She led the way into a cosy sitting-room, and offered her visitors chairs.

”You will pardon our intrusion, I am sure,” explained Mr. Westmore. ”We came simply for shelter. We are much obliged to you.”

”Not at all, sir,” replied the woman. ”I am so glad you came. I am alone with the children, and they are all much frightened.”

”And your husband is away?”

”Yes. He's been gone all winter. He was working in the woods for Rodgers & Peterson, and is now on the drive.”

”Dear me! it must be hard for you to have him away so much.”

”It is, sir. But he will stay home after this. He has earned enough this winter to make the last payment on our farm. We have been struggling for years, saving every cent and working hard to get the place free from debt, and now it will be our very own if--if--,” and the woman hesitated.

”How glad your husband will be to be home,” said Nellie, with her eyes fixed upon several bright little faces in the doorway. ”He must long to see you all.”

”Ay, indeed he does, but especially Doris. She is our invalid girl, you see, and is very dear to us. She can't romp and play like the others, and I suppose for that reason she appeals to us the more.”

”Has she been ill long?” questioned Mr. Westmore, becoming now much interested.