the red cross girl-第26部分

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were　beginning　to　deck　themselves　with　necklaces　of　lights。　They
had　known　her　since　they　wore　knickerbockers；　and　they　shared
many　interests　and　friends　in　common；　they　talked　the　same
language。　Latimer　could　talk　to　her　only　in　letters；　for　with　her
he　shared　no　friends　or　interests；　and　he　was　forced　to　choose
between　telling　her　of　his　lawsuits　and　his　efforts　in　politics
or　of　his　love。　To　write　to　her　of　his　affairs　seemed　wasteful
and　impertinent；　and　of　his　love　for　her；　after　she　had　received
what　he　told　of　it　in　silence；　he　was　too　proud　to　speak。　So　he
wrote　but　seldom；　and　then　only　to　say：　〃You　know　what　I　send
you。〃　Had　he　known　it；　his　best　letters　were　those　he　did　not
send。　When　in　the　morning　mail　Helen　found　his　familiar
handwriting；　that　seemed　to　stand　out　like　the　face　of　a　friend
in　a　crowd；　she　would　pounce　upon　the　letter；　read　it；　and；
assured　of　his　love；　would　go　on　her　way　rejoicing。　But　when　in
the　morning　there　was　no　letter；　she　wondered　why；　and　all　day
she　wondered　why。　And　the　next　morning　when　again　she　was
disappointed；　her　thoughts　of　Latimer　and　her　doubts　and
speculations　concerning　him　shut　out　every　other　interest。　He
became　a　perplexing；　insistent　problem。　He　was　never　out　of　her
mind。　And　then　he　would　spoil　it　all　by　writing　her　that　he　loved
her　and　that　of　all　the　women　in　the　world　she　was　the　only　one。
And；　reassured　upon　that　point；　Helen　happily　and　promptly　would
forget　all　about　him。

But　when　she　remembered　him；　although　months　had　passed　since　she
had　seen　him；　she　remembered　him　much　more　distinctly；　much　more
gratefully；　than　that　one　of　the　two　hundred　and　fifty　with　whom
she　had　walked　that　same　afternoon。　Latimer　could　not　know　it；
but　of　that　anxious　multitude　he　was　first；　and　there　was　no
second。　At　least　Helen　hoped；　when　she　was　ready　to　marry；　she
would　love　Latimer　enough　to　want　to　marry　him。　But　as　yet　she
assured　herself　she　did　not　want　to　marry　any　one。　As　she　was；
life　was　very　satisfactory。　Everybody　loved　her；　everybody
invited　her　to　be　of　his　party；　or　invited　himself　to　join　hers；
and　the　object　of　each　seemed　to　be　to　see　that　she　enjoyed　every
hour　of　every　day。　Her　nature　was　such　that　to　make　her　happy　was
not　difficult。　Some　of　her　devotees　could　do　it　by　giving　her　a
dance　and　letting　her　invite　half　of　Boston；　and　her　kid　brother
could　do　it　by　taking　her　to　Cambridge　to　watch　the　team　at
practice。

She　thought　she　was　happy　because　she　was　free。　As　a　matter　of
fact；　she　was　happy　because　she　loved　some　one　and　that
particular　some　one　loved　her。　Her　being　〃free〃　was　only　her
mistaken　way　of　putting　it。　Had　she　thought　she　had　lost　Latimer
and　his　love；　she　would　have　discovered　that；　so　far　from　being
free；　she　was　bound　hand　and　foot　and　heart　and　soul。

But　she　did　not　know　that；　and　Latimer　did　not　know　that。

Meanwhile；　from　the　branch　of　the　tree　in　the　sheltered；　secret
hiding…place　that　overlooked　the　ocean；　the　sailorman　kept　watch。
The　sun　had　blistered　him；　the　storms　had　buffeted　him；　the　snow
had　frozen　upon　his　shoulders。　But　his　loyalty　never　relaxed。　He
spun　to　the　north；　he　spun　to　the　south；　and　so　rapidly　did　he
scan　the　surrounding　landscape　that　no　one　could　hope　to　creep
upon　him　unawares。　Nor；　indeed；　did　any　one　attempt　to　do　so。
Once　a　fox　stole　into　the　secret　hiding…place；　but　the　sailorman
flapped　his　oars　and　frightened　him　away。　He　was　always
triumphant。　To　birds；　to　squirrels；　to　trespassing　rabbits　he　was
a　thing　of　terror。　Once；　when　the　air　was　still；　an　impertinent
crow　perched　on　the　very　limb　on　which　he　stood；　and　with
scornful；　disapproving　eyes　surveyed　his　white　trousers；　his　blue
reefer；　his　red　cheeks。　But　when　the　wind　suddenly　drove　past
them　the　sailorman　sprang　into　action　and　the　crow　screamed　in
alarm　and　darted　away。　So；　alone　and　with　no　one　to　come　to　his
relief；　the　sailorman　stood　his　watch。　About　him　the　branches
bent　with　the　snow；　the　icicles　froze　him　into　immobility；　and　in
the　tree…tops　strange　groanings　filled　him　with　alarms。　But
undaunted；　month　after　month；　alert　and　smiling；　he　waited　the
return　of　the　beautiful　lady　and　of　the　tall　young　man　who　had
devoured　her　with　such　beseeching；　unhappy　eyes。

Latimer　found　that　to　love　a　woman　like　Helen　Page　as　he　loved
her　was　the　best　thing　that　could　come　into　his　life。　But　to　sit
down　and　lament　over　the　fact　that　she　did　not　love　him　did　not；
to　use　his　favorite　expression；　〃tend　toward　efficiency。〃　He
removed　from　his　sight　the　three　pictures　of　her　he　had　cut　from
illustrated　papers；　and　ceased　to　write　to　her。

In　his　last　letter　he　said：　〃I　have　told　you　how　it　is；　and　that
is　how　it　is　always　going　to　be。　There　never　has　been；　there
never　can　be　any　one　but　you。　But　my　love　is　too　precious；　too
sacred　to　be　brought　out　every　week　in　a　letter　and　dangled
before　your　eyes　like　an　advertisement　of　a　motor…car。　It　is　too
wonderful　a　thing　to　be　cheapened；　to　be　subjected　to　slights　and
silence。　If　ever　you　should　want　it；　it　is　yours。　It　is　here
waiting。　But　you　must　tell　me　so。　I　have　done　everything　a　man
can　do　to　make　you　understand。　But　you　do　not　want　me　or　my　love。
And　my　love　says　to　me：　'Don't　send　me　there　again　to　have　the
door　shut　in　my　face。　Keep　me　with　you　to　be　your　inspiration；　to
help　you　to　live　worthily。'　And　so　it　shall　be。〃

When　Helen　read　that　letter　she　did　not　know　what　to　do。　She　did
not　know　how　to　answer　it。　Her　first　impression　was　that　suddenly
she　had　grown　very　old；　and　that　some　one　had　turned　off　the　sun；
and　that　in　consequence　the　world　had　naturally　grown　cold　and
dark。　She　could　not　see　why　the　two　hundred　and　forty…nine
expected　her　to　keep　on　doing　exactly　the　same　things　she　had
been　doing　with　delight　for　six　months；　and　indeed　for　the　last
six　years。　Why　could　they　not　see　that　no　longer　was　there　any
pleasure　in　them？　She　would　have　written　and　told　Latimer　that
she　found　she　loved　him　very　dearly　if　in　her　mind　there　had　not
arisen　a　fearful　doubt。　Suppose　his　letter　was　not　quite　honest？
He　said　that　he　would　always　love　her；　but　how　could　she　now　know
that？　Why　might　not　this　letter　be　only　his　way　of　withdrawing
from　a　position　which　he　wished　to　abandon；　from　which；　perhaps；
he　was　even　glad　to　escape？　Were　this　true；　and　she　wrote　and
said　all　those　things　that　were　in　her　heart；　that　now　she　knew
were　true；　might　she　not　hold　him　to　her　against　his　will？　The
love　that　once　he　had　for　her　might　no　longer　exist；　and　if；　in
her　turn；　she　told　him　she　loved　him　and　had　always　loved　him；
might　he　not　in　some　mistaken　spirit　of　chivalry　feel　it　was　his
duty　to　pretend　to　care？　Her　cheeks　burned　at　the　thought。　It　was
intolerable。　She　could　not　write　that　letter。　And　as　day
succeeded　day；　to　do　so　became　more　difficult。　And　so　she　never
wrote　and　was　very　unhappy。　And　Latimer　was　very　unhappy。　But　he
had　his　work；　and　Helen　had　none；　and　for　her　life　became　a　game
of　putting　little　things　together；　like　a　picture　puzzle；　an　hour
here　and　an　hour　there；　to　make　up　each　day。　It　was　a　dreary
game。

From　time　to　time　she　heard　of　him　through　the　newspapers。　For；
in　his　own　State；　he　was　an　〃Insurgent〃　making　a　fight；　the
outcome　of　which　was　expected　to　show　what　might　follow
throughout　the　entire　West。　When　he　won　his　fight　much　more　was
written　about　him；　and　he　became　a　national　figure。　In　his　own
State　the　people　hailed　him　as　the　next　governor；　promised　him　a
seat　in　the　Senate。　To　Helen　this　seemed　to　take　him　further　out
of　her　life。　She　wondered　if　now　she　held　a　place　even　in　his
thoughts。

At　Fair　Harbor　the　two　hundred　and　forty…nine　used　to　joke　with
her　about　her　politician。　Then　they　considered　Latimer　of
importance　only　because　Helen　liked　him。　Now　they　discussed　him
impersonally　and　over　her　head；　as　though　she　were　not　present；
as　a　power；　an　influence；　as　the　leader　and　exponent　of　a　new
idea。　They　seemed　to　think　she　no　longer　could　pretend　to　any
peculiar　claim　upon　him；　that　now　he　belonged　to　all　of　them。

Older　men　would　say　to　her：　〃I　hear　you　know　Latimer？　What　sort
of　a　man　is　he？〃

Helen　would　not　know　what　to　tell　them。　She　could　not　say　he　was
a　man　who　sat　with　his　back　to　a　pine…tree；　reading　from　a　book
of　verse；　or　halting　to　devour　her　with　humble；　entreating　eyes。

She　went　South　for　the　winter；　the　doctors　deciding　she　was　run
down　and　needed　the　change。　And　with　an　unhappy　laugh　at　her　own
expense　she　agreed　in　their　diagnosis。　She　was　indifferent　as　to
where　they　sent　her；　for　she　knew　wherever　she　went　she　must
still　force　herself　to　go　on　putting　one　hour　on　top　of　another；
until　she　had　built　up　the　inexorable　and　necessary　twenty…four。

When　she　returned　winter　was　departing；　but　reluctantly；　and
returning　unexpectedly　to　cover　the　world　with　snow；　to　eclipse
the　thin　spring　sunshine　with　cheerless　clouds。　Helen　took
herself　seriously　to　task。　She　assured　herself　it　was　weak…minded
to　rebel。　The　summer　was　coming　and　Fair　Harbor　with　all　its　old
delights　was　before　her。　She　compelled　herself　to　take　heart；　to
accept　the　fact　that；　after　all；　the　world　is　a　pretty　good
place；　and　that　to　think　only　of　t