Phoebe Deane (Romance Classic). Grace Livingston Hill

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      " You set down, Phoebe," commanded Hiram. " I've got some things to tell you. It ain't worth while fer you to act foolish. I mean business. I want to get married. It's high time there was somebody to see to things at home, but I can wait a little while if you're wantin' to get ready more, only don't be long about it. As I said, I don't mind about the love part. That'll come all right. And you remember, Phoebe, if I do say so as shouldn't, there's plenty of girls around here would be glad to marry me if they got the chance."

      " Then by all means let them marry you!" said Phoebe, grandly, steadying her trembling limbs for flight. " I shall never, never marry you! Good-night, Mr. Green."

      She swept him a ceremonious bit of courtesy at the door, like a flutter of wings as a bird takes affright, and was gone before he fully took it in. He reached out detaining hands towards her in protest, but it was too late. The latch clicked behind her, and he could hear the soft stir of her garments on the stairs. She had fled to her room. He heard the button on her door creak and turn. He unfolded his lank limbs from their comfortable pose around the legs of his chair, and went after her as far as the door, but the stairway was quiet and dark. He could hear Albert and Emmeline in the kitchen. He stood a moment in puzzled chagrin, going over his interview and trying to make it all out. What mistake had he made? He had failed, that was certain. It was a new experience and one that angered him, but somehow the anger was numbed by the remembrance of the look of the girl's eyes, the dainty movements of her hands, the set of her shapely head. He did not know that he was fascinated by her beauty; he only knew that a dogged determination to have her for his own in spite of everything was settling down upon him.

      Albert and Emmeline were conversing in low tones in the kitchen when the door was flung open and Hiram Green stepped in, his brow dark, his eyes sullen. He felt that Emmeline owed him some explanation of Phoebe’s behavior. He had come for it.

      " I can't make her out!" he muttered, as he flung himself into a kitchen chair, "she's just for all the world like a wild colt. When you think you have her she gives you the slip and is off further away than when you begun. I think maybe if I had her where she couldn't get away I'd be able to find out the difficulty."

      " Better take her out riding," suggested Albert, slyly, "and drive fast. She couldn't get out very well then."

      " I ain't so sure," growled Hiram " the way she looked she might jump over a precipice. What's the matter with her anyway ?" turning to Emmeline, as though she were responsible for the whole of womankind. " Is there anybody else ? She ain't got in with Hank Williams, has she ? "

      " She won't look at him," declared Emmeline, positively. " He tried to get to go to singin'-school with her just to-day and she shut him off short. What reason did she give you ? "

      " She spoke about not havin' proper affection," he answered, diffidently, "but if I was dead sure that was the hull trouble I think I could fix her up. I'd like to get things settled 'fore winter comes on. I can't afford to waste time like this."

      " I think I know what's the matter of her," said Emmeline, mysteriously. " She isn't such a fool as to give up a good chance in life for reasons of affection, though it is, mighty high-soundin' to say so. But there's somethin' back of it all. I shouldn't wonder, Hiram, if she's tryin' you to see if you want her enough to fix things handy the way she'd like em."

      " What do you mean ?" asked Hiram, gruffly, showing sudden interest. " Has she spoke of anything to you ? "

      "Well, she did let on that your house was too far back from the street to be pleasant, and she seemed to think the barn had the best situation. She spoke about the knoll being a good place fer a house."

      Hiram brightened. If Phoebe had taken interest in his affairs to say all this surely she was not so indifferent after all.

      " You don't say! " said Hiram, meditatively. " When did she say that?"

      " Just to-day," Emmeline answered.

      "Well, if that's the hitch why didn't she say so? She didn't seem shy."

      " Maybe she was waitin' for you to ask her what she wanted."

      " Well, she didn't wait long. She lit out before I had a chance to half talk things over."

      " She's young yet, you know," said Emmeline, in a soothing tone. " Young folks take queer notions. I shouldn't wonder but she hates to go to that house and live way back from the road that way. She ain't much more than a child, anyway, in some things—though she's first class to work."

      "Well," said Hiram, reluctantly, "I been thinkin' the house needed fixin' up some. I don't know as I should object to buildin' all new. The old house would come in handy fer the men. Bill would like to have his ma come and keep house right well. It would help me out in one way, for Bill is gettin' uneasy, and I'd rather spare any man I've got than Bill, he works so steady and good. Say, you might mention to Phoebe, if you like, that I'm thinkin' of buildin' a new house. Say I'd thought of the knoll for a location. Think that would ease her up a little?"

      "All right, I'll see what can be done," said Emmeline, importantly.

      The atmosphere of the kitchen brightened cheerfully as if extra candles had been brought in. Hiram, with the air of having settled to his satisfaction a troublesome bit of business, lighted his pipe and tilted his chair back in bis accustomed fashion, entering into a brisk discussion of politics while Emmeline set the sponge for bread.

      Emmeline was going over the line of argument with which she intended to ply Phoebe the next day. She felt triumphant over her. Not every woman and match-maker would have had the grit to tell Hiram just what was wanted. Emmeline felt that she had been entrusted with a commission worthy of her best efforts, and surely Phoebe would listen now.

      Up in her kitchen chamber the hum of their conversation came to Phoebe, as she sat with burning cheeks looking widely into the darkness. She did not hear the nightly symphony as it sang on all about the house. She was thinking of what she had been through, and wondering if she had finally freed herself from the hateful attentions of Hiram Green. Would he take her answer as final, or not? She thought not, judging from his nature. He was one of those men who never give up what they have set themselves to get, be it sunny pasture lot, young heifer, or pretty wife. She shuddered at the thought of many more encounters such as she had passed through to-night. It was all dreadful to her. It touched a side of life that jarred her inexpressibly. It made the world seem an intolerable place to her.

      She fell to wondering what her life would have been if her mother had lived—a quiet little home, of course, plain and sweet and cozy, with plenty of hard work, but always some one to sympathize. Her frail little mother had not been able to stand the rough world and the hard work, but she had left behind her a memory of gentleness and refinement that could never be wholly crushed out of her young daughter's heart, no matter how much she came in contact with the coarse, rude world. Often the girl in her silent meditations would take her mother into her thoughts and tell her all that had passed in her life that day. But to-night she felt that were her mother here, and helpless to help her, she could not bear to tell her of this torturing experience through which she was passing. She knew instinctively that a living mother such as hers had been would shrink with horror from the thought of seeing her child united to a man like Hiram Green—would rather see her dead than married to him.

      Somehow she could not get the comfort from thinking of her mother to-night that she usually could. She wanted some close, tangible help, some one all-wise and powerful; some one that could tell what life meant, and what God meant her particular life to be, and make her sure she was right in her fierce recoil from what life now seemed to be offering. She felt sure she was right, yet she wanted another to say so also, to СКАЧАТЬ