the lost road-第4部分

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to　see　in　any　word　or　act　of　hers　anything　that　was　not　fine　and
beautiful。

In　their　rides　they　had　one　day　stumbled　upon　a　long…lost　and
long…forgotten　road　through　the　woods；　which　she　had　claimed　as
their　own　by　right　of　discovery；　and；　no　matter　to　what　point
they　set　forth　each　day；　they　always　returned　by　it。　　Their　way
through　the　woods　stretched　for　miles。　　It　was　concealed　in　a
forest　of　stunted　oaks　and　black　pines；　with　no　sign　of　human
habitation；　save　here　and　there　a　clearing　now　long　neglected　and
alive　only　with　goldenrod。　　Trunks　of　trees；　moss…grown　and
crumbling　beneath　the　touch　of　the　ponies'　hoofs；　lay　in　their
path；　and　above　it　the　branches　of　a　younger　generation　had
clasped　hands。　　At　their　approach　squirrels　raced　for　shelter；
woodcock　and　partridge　shot　deeper　into　the　network　of　vines　and
saplings；　and　the　click　of　the　steel　as　the　ponies　tossed　their
bits；　and　their　own　whispers；　alone　disturbed　the　silence。

〃It　is　an　enchanted　road；〃　said　the　girl；　〃or　maybe　we　are
enchanted。〃

〃Not　I；〃　cried　the　young　man　loyally。　　〃I　was　never　so　sane；　never
so　sure；　never　so　happy　in　knowing　just　what　I　wanted！　If　only
you　could　be　as　sure！〃

One　day　she　came　to　him　in　high　excitement　with　a　book　of　verse。
〃He　has　written　a　poem；〃　she　cried；　〃about　our　own　woods；　about
our　lost　road！　Listen〃　she　commanded；　and　she　read　to　him：

〃'They　shut　the　road　through　the　woods
Seventy　years　ago。
Weather　and　rain　have　undone　it　again；
And　now　you　would　never　know
There　was　once　a　road　through　the　woods
Before　they　planted　the　trees。
It　is　underneath　the　coppice　and　heath；
And　the　thin　anemones。
Only　the　keeper　sees
That；　where　the　ringdove　broods；
And　the　badgers　roll　at　ease；
There　was　once　a　road　through　the　woods。

〃'Yet；　if　you　enter　the　woods
Of　a　summer　evening　late；
When　the　night　air　cools　on　the　trout…ringed　pools
Where　the　otter　whistles　his　mate
（They　fear　not　men　in　the　woods
Because　they　see　so　few）；
You　will　hear　the　beat　of　a　horse's　feet；
And　the　swish　of　a　skirt　in　the　dew；
Steadily　cantering　through
The　misty　solitudes；
As　though　they　perfectly　knew
The　old　lost　road　through　the　woods。　。　。　。
But　there　is　no　road　through　the　woods。'〃


〃I　don't　like　that　at　all；〃　cried　the　soldierman。　　〃It's　tootoo
sadit　doesn't　give　you　any　encouragement。　　The　way　it　ends；　I
mean：　'But　there　is　no　road　through　the　woods。'　　Of　course　there's
a　road！　For　us　there　always　will　be。　　I'm　going　to　make　sure。　　I'm
going　to　buy　those　woods；　and　keep　the　lost　road　where　we　can
always　find　it。〃

〃I　don't　think；〃　said　the　girl；　〃that　he　means　a　real　road。〃

〃I　know　what　he　means；〃　cried　the　lover；　〃and　he's　wrong！　There
is　a　road；　and　you　and　I　have　found　it；　and　we　are　going　to
follow　it　for　always。〃

The　girl　shook　her　head；　but　her　eyes　were　smiling　happily。

The　〃season〃　at　Agawamsett　closed　with　the　tennis　tournament；　and
it　was　generally　conceded　fit　and　proper；　from　every　point　of
view；　that　in　mixed　doubles　Lee　and　Miss　Gardner　should　be
partners。　　Young　Stedman；　the　Boston　artist；　was　the　only　one　who
made　objection。　　Up　in　the　sail…loft　that　he　had　turned　into　a
studio　he　was　painting　a　portrait　of　the　lovely　Miss　Gardner；　and
he　protested　that　the　three　days'　tournament　would　sadly
interrupt　his　work。　　And　Frances；　who　was　very　much　interested　in
the　portrait；　was　inclined　to　agree。

But　Lee　beat　down　her　objections。　　He　was　not　at　all　interested　in
the　portrait。　　He　disapproved　of　it　entirely。　　For　the　sittings
robbed　him　of　Frances　during　the　better　part　of　each　morning；　and
he　urged　that　when　he　must　so　soon　leave　her；　between　the　man　who
wanted　her　portrait　and　the　man　who　wanted　her；　it　would　be　kind
to　give　her　time　to　the　latter。

〃But　I　had　no　idea；〃　protested　Frances；　〃he　would　take　so　long。
He　told　me　he'd　finish　it　in　three　sittings。　　But　he's　so　critical
of　his　own　work　that　he　goes　over　it　again　and　again。　　He　says
that　I　am　a　most　difficult　subject；　but　that　I　inspire　him。　　And
he　says；　if　I　will　only　give　him　time；　he　believes　this　will　be
the　best　thing　he　has　done。〃

〃That's　an　awful　thought；〃　said　the　cavalry　officer。

〃You　don't　like　him；〃　reproved　Miss　Gardner。　　〃He　is　always　very
polite　to　you。〃

〃He's　polite　to　everybody；〃　said　Lee；　〃that's　why　I　don't　like
him。　　He's　not　a　real　artist。　　He's　a　courtier。　　God　gave　him　a
talent；　and　he　makes　a　mean　use　of　it。　　Uses　it　to　flatter　people。
He's　like　these　long…haired　violinists　who　play　anything　you　ask
them　to　in　the　lobster　palaces。〃

Miss　Gardner　looked　away　from　him。　　Her　color　was　high　and　her
eyes　very　bright。

〃I　think；〃　she　said　steadily；　〃that　Mr。　Stedman　is　a　great
artist；　and　some　day　all　the　world　will　think　so；　too！〃

Lee　made　no　answer。　　Not　because　he　disagreed　with　her　estimate　of
Mr。　Stedman's　genius…he　made　no　pretense　of　being　an　art
criticbut　because　her　vehement　admiration　had　filled　him　with
sudden　panic。　　He　was　not　jealous。　　For　that　he　was　far　too　humble。
Indeed；　he　thought　himself　so　utterly　unworthy　of　Frances　Gardner
that　the　fact　that　to　him　she　might　prefer　some　one　else　was　in
no　way　a　surprise。　　He　only　knew　that　if　she　should　prefer　some
one　else　not　all　his　troop　horses　nor　all　his　men　could　put
Humpty　Dumpty　back　again。

But　if；　in　regard　to　Mr。　Stedman；　Miss　Gardner　had　for　a　moment
been　at　odds　with　the　man　who　loved　her；　she　made　up　for　it　the
day　following　on　the　tennis　court。　　There　she　was　in　accord　with
him　in　heart；　soul；　and　body；　and　her　sharp　〃Well　played；
partner！〃　thrilled　him　like　one　of　his　own　bugle　calls。　　For　two
days　against　visiting　and　local　teams　they　fought　their　way
through　the　tournament；　and　the　struggle　with　her　at　his　side
filled　Lee　with　a　great　happiness。　　Not　that　the　championship　of
Agawamsett　counted　greatly　to　one　exiled　for　three　years　to　live
among　the　Moros。　　He　wanted　to　win　because　she　wanted　to　win。
But　his　happiness　came　in　doing　something　in　common　with　her；
in　helping　her　and　in　having　her　help　him；　in　being；　if　only　in
play；　if　only　for　three　days；　her　〃partner。〃

After　they　won　they　walked　home　together；　each　swinging　a　fat；
heavy　loving…cup。　　On　each　was　engraved：

〃Mixed　doubles；　Agawamsett；　1910。〃

Lee　held　his　up　so　that　the　setting　sun　flashed　on　the　silver。

〃I　am　going　to　keep　that；〃　he　said；　〃as　long　as　I　live。　　It　means
you　were　once　my　'partner。'　　It's　a　sign　that　once　we　two　worked
together　for　something　and　won。〃　　In　the　words　the　man　showed
such　feeling　that　the　girl　said　soberly：

〃Mine　means　that　to　me；　too。　　I　will　never　part　with　mine；
either。〃

Lee　turned　to　her　and　smiled；　appealing　wistfully。

〃It　seems　a　pity　to　separate　them；〃　he　said。　　〃They'd　look　well
together　over　an　open　fireplace。〃

The　girl　frowned　unhappily。　　〃I　don't　know；〃　she　protested。　　〃I
don't　know。〃

The　next　day　Lee　received　from　the　War　Department　a　telegram
directing　him　to　〃proceed　without　delay〃　to　San　Francisco；　and
there　to　embark　for　the　Philippines。

That　night　he　put　the　question　to　her　directly；　but　again　she
shook　her　head　unhappily；　again　she　said：　〃I　don't　know！〃

So　he　sailed　without　her；　and　each　evening　at　sunset；　as　the
great　transport　heaved　her　way　across　the　swell　of　the　Pacific；
he　stood　at　the　rail　and　looked　back。　　With　the　aid　of　the　first
officer　he　calculated　the　difference　in　time　between　a　whaling
village　situated　at　forty…four　degrees　north　and　an　army
transport　dropping　rapidly　toward　the　equator；　and　so；　each　day；
kept　in　step　with　the　girl　he　loved。

〃Now；〃　he　would　tell　himself；　〃she　is　in　her　cart　in　front　of　the
post…office；　and　while　they　sort　the　morning　mail　she　gossips
with　the　fisher　folks；　the　summer　folks；　the　grooms；　and
chauffeurs。　　Now　she　is　sitting　for　her　portrait　to　Stedman〃　（he
did　not　dwell　long　on　that　part　of　her　day）；　〃and　now　she　is　at
tennis；　or；　as　she　promised；　riding　alone　at　sunset　down　our　lost
road　through　the　woods。〃

But　that　part　of　her　day　from　which　Lee　hurried　was　that　part
over　which　the　girl　herself　lingered。　　As　he　turned　his　eyes　from
his　canvas　to　meet　hers；　Stedman；　the　charming；　the　deferential；
the　adroit；　who　never　allowed　his　painting　to　interrupt　his　talk；
told　her　of　what　he　was　pleased　to　call　his　dreams　and　ambitions；
of　the　great　and　beautiful　ladies　who　had　sat　before　his　easel；
and　of　the　only　one　of　them　who　had　given　him　inspiration。
Especially　of　the　only　one　who　had　given　him　inspiration。　　With
her　always　to　uplift　him；　he　could　become　one　of　the　world's　most
famous　artists；　and　she　would　go　down　into　history　as　the
beautiful　woman　who　had　helped　him；　as　the　wife　of　Rembrandt
had　inspired　Rembrandt；　as　〃Mona　Lisa〃　had　made　Leonardo。

Gilbert　wrote：　〃It　is　not　the　lover　who　comes　to　woo；　but　the
lover's　way　of　wooing！〃　His　successful　lover　was　the　one　who
threw　the　girl　across　his　saddle　and　rode　away　with　her。　　But　one
kind　of　woman　does　not　like　to　have　her　lover　approach　shouting：
〃At　the　gallop！　Charge！〃

She　prefers　a　man　not　because　he　is　masterful；　but　because　he　is
not。　　She　likes　to　believe　the　man　needs　her　more　than　she　needs
him；　that　she；　and　only　she；　can　steady　him；　cheer　him；　keep　him
true　to　th