Part 19 (2/2)

”In April,” he answered briefly.

[Ill.u.s.tration: GRANDMA KEELER INTRODUCES THE NEW TEACHER.

Scene from the Play.]

”And weren't you ever coming to see me, again?” I murmured with designing soft reproach.

”I was coming up by and by, to say good-bye,” said Luther, brokenly.

”Only for that?” I questioned, and sighed with a perfect abandonment of rect.i.tude and good faith to the selfish gratification of that moment.

”What else should I come up for?” he exclaimed, breaking out into sudden pa.s.sion. ”Except to tell you what you don't want to hear; that I love you, teacher, I love you.”

”Oh, hus.h.!.+” I cried with a little accent of unaffected pain. ”It isn't right for me to let you talk to me in that way, Luther. Oh, don't you see? you're nothing but a boy to me!”

”That's a lie!” the boy replied, with face and eyes aflame. ”And because I am poor, and because I am more ignorant than you, you make it an excuse to trifle with me--and you look only to the outside, but you know I have lived as long as you--a boy's head, you mean,” he went on with choking, fiery bitterness. ”And it may be, and you are very kind, G.o.d knows! But I can tell you one thing, teacher, it isn't a boy's heart for you to put your foot on!”

It was not a boy's strength in the quivering frame and tense, drawn muscles. In his rare pa.s.sions I admired Lute Cradlebow.

The greater meekness and patience which always followed, I attributed to a lack of perseverance or a too easy abandonment of purpose.

”I hope you will be very happy all your life through, teacher;” he said, as we stood at the door of the Ark; and he spoke very gently, and as though he was going away then forever. Madeline had the key; she and her companions had lingered at the school-house, as usual, after the meeting.

I murmured something about being very happy to have such a kind, true friend; that I should probably leave Wallencamp before he went to sea, but I hoped he would write me about his wanderings over the world, and I should always be happy to answer and give him my sisterly advice.

Luther continued, thoughtfully, almost smiling:--

”You remember that night, teacher, ever so long ago it seems, before I knew you, when the boys dragged me into the Ark and I kissed you? I've always kissed the girls when they come home from anywhere, and I never thought, you know. I didn't mean anything by it.”

”Yes,” I said. I think I must have looked amused. Luther answered the laugh in my eyes with quiet appreciation.

”Well, teacher,” he said; ”I should like to kiss you just once to-night, and mean it.”

”That's a remarkable request,” I said; ”to come from my oldest pupil; but it is my privilege to bestow, just once. If you will bend down from your commanding height, and put yourself in an humble and submissive att.i.tude before me.”

The Cradlebow knelt on the doorstep. I would have stooped to his forehead, but he put up his arm with an extremely boyish, inoffensive gesture, almost with a sob, I thought, to draw me closer.

I would have had that kiss as pa.s.sionless as though it had been given to a child. The Cradlebow's breath was pure upon my cheek--but I was compelled to feel the answering flame creep slowly in my own blood.

”Never ask me to do that again!” I exclaimed, in righteous exculpation of the act. ”Never!”

CHAPTER VIII.

FESTIVITIES AT THE ARK.

Up from the beach, lightly tripping, capacious reticule in hand, came Mrs. Barlow to spend the day at the Ark, unexpectedly! The inspired and felicitous customs of the Wallencampers admitted of no rude surprises; rational joy, alone, pervaded the Ark at this matutinal advent.

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