Larimer know you were coming."
"From here, I could also shout."
He cleared his throat. This time, he also smiled a bit. He had even, healthy teeth.
There was no evident reason why he would choose not to laugh or smile, but his smile
quickly vanished, as if loaned rather than bestowed.
She shivered inside her jacket, and stopped to wrap her flannels more firmly about
her waist, this time for warmth. The bicycle stuttered on the road, and Mr. Early glanced
at her once, but mostly he gazed around in a discerning way, as if he were measuring the
speed of the wind or gauging the likelihood of rain. She pressed on, feeling her cheeks
beginning to freeze. Fingers, too. Discomfort was overwhelming that earlier sense of
pleasure. She stopped suddenly, leaned the bicycle against her skirt, and cupped her
cheeks in her hands, just to warm them. He said, "Are you in pain, Miss Mayfield?"
"I'm
freezing."
"Indeed! I hadn't noticed a chill." He waited for her, but she saw through her
fingers that he looked at her curiously, as if her behavior were simply a phenomenon and
had nothing to do with him. And, indeed, it did have nothing to do with him. But she had
the suspicion that, were she to fall over in a solid frozen block of ice and expire right
there, he would be unmoved except by the novelty of the situation. She put her hands
back on the handlebars and pressed on, this time hurrying as much as she could with her
long and flapping skirts. She said, "I have to keep going. It's just there. We're almost to
the Larimers'."
"Are we? I'll be sorry to give up your company." He neither smiled nor bent
toward her in any way; she was so frantic by now that this remark seemed to her to have
no meaning at all, to be launched onto the frigid air like a snowflake. But he exerted
himself to keep up with her, and then they were at Mrs. Larimer's gate, and she was
fumbling with the latch. He didn't help her, just held on to his staff and observed her.
When she had gotten through the gate with the bicycle, he tipped his hat and said, "Well,
it's been a pleasure to meet you, Miss Mayfield. I admire your fortitude."
She dropped the bicycle beside the path and ran up the steps to the porch.
Charlotte, Mrs. Larimer's hired girl, opened the door at once, and then it was all frostbite
and tears and warmth and concern. After that occasion, she didn't see Mr. Early (Captain
Early, Dr. Early, she subsequently found out) for a very long time.
THE MARRIAGE took place--a morning wedding at Gentry Farm, with Beatrice
in a dark-green velvet dress and Robert in a suit with a collar of the same dark-green
velvet. Owing to the time of year, Lavinia and the Bells had decided that it would be
better to have a small wedding in town followed by a larger party in St. Louis after the
New Year, and their caution turned out to be justified--snow began falling during the
afternoon reception at Mrs. Larimer's. It was so thick that if the guests hadn't left early it
would have been impossible to get back to the farm. As it was, the horses pulling the
carriage had to struggle the last quarter-mile, and Margaret and Elizabeth had to huddle
down, covered over and suffocating with blankets, while John Gentry whipped the horses
and urged them forward. Lavinia would not let the girls jump out and walk, because their
dress boots were thin and the snow was already eight inches deep. Then they spent the
days between the wedding and Christmas isolated at the farm, drinking tea and nursing
John Gentry through a bout of catarrh. The weather continued cold and wet; only Lavinia
went with Robert and Beatrice to the marriage celebration in St. Louis.
Margaret finally met Dora and the other Bells in the spring. Dora turned out to be
a squat, plain girl with thin hair and nothing more to offer, Margaret thought at first, than
a bicycle and a kind nature. But Dora seemed to take a great and flattering liking to
Elizabeth and Margaret,
"From here, I could also shout."
He cleared his throat. This time, he also smiled a bit. He had even, healthy teeth.
There was no evident reason why he would choose not to laugh or smile, but his smile
quickly vanished, as if loaned rather than bestowed.
She shivered inside her jacket, and stopped to wrap her flannels more firmly about
her waist, this time for warmth. The bicycle stuttered on the road, and Mr. Early glanced
at her once, but mostly he gazed around in a discerning way, as if he were measuring the
speed of the wind or gauging the likelihood of rain. She pressed on, feeling her cheeks
beginning to freeze. Fingers, too. Discomfort was overwhelming that earlier sense of
pleasure. She stopped suddenly, leaned the bicycle against her skirt, and cupped her
cheeks in her hands, just to warm them. He said, "Are you in pain, Miss Mayfield?"
"I'm
freezing."
"Indeed! I hadn't noticed a chill." He waited for her, but she saw through her
fingers that he looked at her curiously, as if her behavior were simply a phenomenon and
had nothing to do with him. And, indeed, it did have nothing to do with him. But she had
the suspicion that, were she to fall over in a solid frozen block of ice and expire right
there, he would be unmoved except by the novelty of the situation. She put her hands
back on the handlebars and pressed on, this time hurrying as much as she could with her
long and flapping skirts. She said, "I have to keep going. It's just there. We're almost to
the Larimers'."
"Are we? I'll be sorry to give up your company." He neither smiled nor bent
toward her in any way; she was so frantic by now that this remark seemed to her to have
no meaning at all, to be launched onto the frigid air like a snowflake. But he exerted
himself to keep up with her, and then they were at Mrs. Larimer's gate, and she was
fumbling with the latch. He didn't help her, just held on to his staff and observed her.
When she had gotten through the gate with the bicycle, he tipped his hat and said, "Well,
it's been a pleasure to meet you, Miss Mayfield. I admire your fortitude."
She dropped the bicycle beside the path and ran up the steps to the porch.
Charlotte, Mrs. Larimer's hired girl, opened the door at once, and then it was all frostbite
and tears and warmth and concern. After that occasion, she didn't see Mr. Early (Captain
Early, Dr. Early, she subsequently found out) for a very long time.
THE MARRIAGE took place--a morning wedding at Gentry Farm, with Beatrice
in a dark-green velvet dress and Robert in a suit with a collar of the same dark-green
velvet. Owing to the time of year, Lavinia and the Bells had decided that it would be
better to have a small wedding in town followed by a larger party in St. Louis after the
New Year, and their caution turned out to be justified--snow began falling during the
afternoon reception at Mrs. Larimer's. It was so thick that if the guests hadn't left early it
would have been impossible to get back to the farm. As it was, the horses pulling the
carriage had to struggle the last quarter-mile, and Margaret and Elizabeth had to huddle
down, covered over and suffocating with blankets, while John Gentry whipped the horses
and urged them forward. Lavinia would not let the girls jump out and walk, because their
dress boots were thin and the snow was already eight inches deep. Then they spent the
days between the wedding and Christmas isolated at the farm, drinking tea and nursing
John Gentry through a bout of catarrh. The weather continued cold and wet; only Lavinia
went with Robert and Beatrice to the marriage celebration in St. Louis.
Margaret finally met Dora and the other Bells in the spring. Dora turned out to be
a squat, plain girl with thin hair and nothing more to offer, Margaret thought at first, than
a bicycle and a kind nature. But Dora seemed to take a great and flattering liking to
Elizabeth and Margaret,
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