Within the Capes. Howard Pyle

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СКАЧАТЬ becomes a continued source of wonder to him how the little girls about him grow up into young women. You leave a poor lean little chit of a thing; a few years pass, you meet her and, lo! she is transmogrified into a young woman, going her sedate way with very different thoughts in her head than when you saw her last. It seems as though it were only a week or two since you patted her upon the head and said kind things to encourage her; now your heart shrinks at the thought of such boldness, and you feel that she needs encouragement no longer.

      When Tom had last seen Patty Penrose, three years before, he left her just such a little chit as I have spoken to you of,—lean and not graceful. She used to come over now and then to play with his sister Mary, but he had not noticed her excepting when she stayed to dinner or to supper. Even then he had not observed her very closely, and had not had much to say to her, for she was too shy to make it a pleasure to him to talk to her, and too young for it to be worth while for him to put himself out to amuse her. He would give her a nod with a “How is thee, Patty?” and then would turn his mind to other things.

      Now, when he first looked at her sitting across the meeting beside his mother, he did not know her; then he saw first one little thing and then another, until it slowly dawned upon him that it was Patty Penrose, though not the Patty Penrose that he had known in times past. At first he looked with wonder and interest at the change that had come in three years; but, after a while, his interest took a very different shape with no wonder about it, and he thought that his sister Mary’s friend was a great deal better worth looking at than when he had last seen her, for Patty had grown into a very pretty girl,—a very pretty girl, indeed.

      She sat looking calmly before her; but, though she seemed sedately unaware of his presence, as is becoming in a modest girl, I have not a grain of doubt that she knew that Tom Granger was at meeting that day, and, maybe, she even knew that he was looking at her at that moment.

      Her head was uncovered, for she had worn a broad beaver hat, such as they used in those days, and she held the hat in her lap. She sat with her side turned to Tom, and it made his heart feel very warm as he looked at her pale, delicate face, the long lashes of her eyes, the smooth roundness of her chin and throat, and the soft curling of the brown hair at her forehead and temples. So, as I said, he was preaching no sermon to himself as he sat in silent meeting that day.

      At length, the court-house clock around the corner of Market street struck eleven. They all sat in silence for a minute or two longer, and then old Thomas Winterapple shook John Stidham by the hand, and meeting was broken. After that they all went out into the sunlight and the open air again.

      Will Gaines went over to where the young women were standing talking together, and said a few words to Susan, and Tom followed after him.

      Patty was standing beside his mother.

      “Thomas, this is Patty Penrose,” said she, turning to him; “don’t thee remember Patty?”

      Tom knew that the color was rising in his face; knowing it, he felt very uncomfortable, and that made his cheeks burn all the hotter. It was a different matter talking to Patty now from what it had been three years ago. Oh, yes, he remembered Patty; “How is thee, Patty?” said he, holding out his hand to her. Her little fingers rested in his only for a moment, and then were quickly withdrawn.

      “I’m pretty well, thank thee, Thomas,” said she.

      Then there was a space of silence, during which Tom was thinking of something to say. This was no easy thing for him to do on the spur of the moment, considering how little he knew of Patty and her ways. He stood with his hands clasped behind him, looking at her and waiting for a thought, and she stood looking down at the toe of her shoe. Presently she raised her eyes to his face for a moment.

      “Has thee just come back, Thomas?” said she.

      “Yes; I came back yesterday afternoon.”

      “Thee’s been gone a long while this time, hasn’t thee?”

      “About three years.”

      And then they were silent again.

      Just then Isaac Naylor came up and spoke to Patty, and she turned partly away from Tom to answer him. It seemed to Tom that it was a relief to her to talk to some one else beside him, and no doubt it was, for she must have felt easier with Isaac than she did with Tom, knowing him so much better. After this, several of the young men came up, and in a little while Patty and his sister were quite surrounded by them, and were presently talking and laughing at a great rate, about people and things of which Tom knew little or nothing. Isaac Naylor stood amongst the other young men; he did not talk to Patty and Mary as they did, but he seemed contented to remain where he was.

      At last Tom’s brother Henry plucked him by the sleeve of his coat, “Is thee ready to go now, Thomas?” said he. “Father and mother have gone and I’m ready to go if thee is.” Henry was too young yet to talk to the girls with any ease, and so the waiting was no pleasure to him.

      “Yes; I guess I’m about ready,” said Tom. He felt that he had been awkward and ungainly before Patty, and he would have liked to say a word or two more to her before he left her to set himself straight in her opinion. But he saw no chance for this in all the talk and laughter that was going on around Mary and her, so there was nothing left for him to do but to go.

      As Henry and he walked along the turn-pike road, numbers of Friends passed them on their way homeward from meeting.

      There was a clatter of hoofs behind them, and old Elihu Penrose came riding by with Patty back of him on the pillion saddle.

      “Woah!” cried he, reigning in his horse when he had come up to Tom and Henry. “How is thee, Thomas? I’m glad to see thee back again.”

      “I’m glad to get back again,” said Tom.

      “That’s right! I like to hear a young man say he’s glad to get back home again,—it sounds well. Come over and see us some time.”

      “I will,” said Tom; “I’d like to come over very much.”

      “Very well; do. Come over soon. Farewell.”

      Then he clicked to the horse and rode on, turning down the road that led through the shady woods to the old mill.

      “Patty Penrose’s a mighty pretty girl; ain’t she, Thomas?” said Henry.

      Tom made no answer, and they walked on in silence.

      At dinner time, Patty was brought up as a subject of talk.

      “Don’t thee think she’s very pretty, Thomas?” said Susan.

      “Well—I don’t know,” said Tom, hesitatingly; “n—not so very.” I do not know why he should have answered as he did, but, somehow, he did not feel like saying that he thought Patty was pretty.

      “Well, I can’t help thinking as thee does about it, Thomas,” said Mary; “I love Patty Penrose very dearly, but, I must say, I never could see her beauty.”

      “She’s the prettiest girl in the neighborhood,” said William.

      “I know some people think she’s pretty,” said Mary, “but, I must say, I don’t see where her beauty lies. Her nose isn’t good, and she has hardly a bit of color in her face. She’s a dear good girl, but I don’t think she’s what СКАЧАТЬ