Coniston, Complete

ott's window, before Cynthia returned. Aunt Lucy was Cynthia's grandmother, and eighty-nine years of age. Still she sat in her window beside the lilac bush, lost in mem

ren were born. Likewise in review passed the lonely months when Timothy was fighting behind his rugged General Stark for that privilege more desirable to h

ave lived to see, straining at her constitution like a great ship at anchor in a gale, with funnels belching forth smoke, and a new race

re Jethro dwelt, and which had belonged to Nathan, his father; and the tannery sheds were at some distance behind it, nearer Coniston Water. Cynthia did not glance at the tannery house, for a wave of o

hat is in strong men has ever been a lure to women; and many, meaning to play with it, have been burnt thereby since the world began. But to turn the fire to some use, to make the world better for it or stranger for it, that were an achievement indeed! The horse munching his hay, Cyn

ntered quietly, and sat in the rear slip, orthodox Coniston knew that he was behind them: good Mr. Ware knew it, and changed a little his prayers and sermon: Cynthia knew it, grew hot and cold by turns under her poke bonnet.

ace to advise him to read chapter seven of Matthew, but he had vanished: via the horse sheds; if she had known it, and along Coniston Water to the house by the tannery, where he

much to his face; what they did say gave them little satisfaction. Grim Deacon Ira stopped him as he was going to buy hides, and would have prayed over him if Jethro had waited; dea

she would have thought herself happy. But would she have been happy? When Moses Hatch congratulated her, with more humor than sincerity, he received the greates

egation: Cynthia turns scarlet, leaving the minister puzzled and a little uneasy: Monday, Miss Lucretia Penniman, alarmed, comes to Coniston to inquire after Cynthia's health: Cynthia drives back with her as far as Four Corners, talking literature and the advancement of woman; returns on foot, thinking of something else, when she discerns a fig

ahn't any to blame-w

presently the astonished Jethro heard what seemed to be faint peals of

you read

"so I am. Hain't come

k ahead to find out

that fashion. I'll come to it in

g to him a third time in these woods, especially if the subject of conversation were not, as Coniston thought, the salvation of his soul

ternness, "I am going to ask you a ques

e about that," said Jethro, appa

ll me why you are

id Jethro, promp

now that tha

t much about it,

it. People don't go to meeti

why do they wear their best clothes-

ight for you to go to church to see-anybody. You go there to hear the Scriptures expounded, and to have yo

ro, and this time it was

Wondrous notes broke on the stillness, the thrush was singing his hymn agai

ee I was very a

n' with Moses Hatc

arply. This was audaci

d of Moses," s

charitable, Cy

charitable to yo

solemnly, thoughtfully, no trace of anger in his face, turned, and

fiercely that he had pride. Had he but known it, every step he took away from her that evening was a step in advance, and she gloried in the fact that he did not once look

troubled, he watched his approach; for good Priest Ware, while able to obey one-half the scriptural injunction, had not the wisdom of the serpent, and women, as typified by Cynthia, were a continual puzzle to him. That very evening, Moses Hatch had called, had been received with

this book for Cyn

ook it, me

ished it?" he

replied Jethro

o call him back, and were suppressed. Yet what to say to him if he came? Mr. Ware

m for a while, and after that all was silence save for the mournful crying of a whippoorwill in the woods. Then a door opened softly, a white vision stole into the little entry lighted by the fan-window, above, seized the book and stole back. Had the minister be

rn than this singing ceased. Bu

ion seized her, and she walked out under the maples of the village street. Let it be understood that Coniston was a village, by courtesy, and its shaded road a street. Suddenly, there was the tannery, Jethro standing in front of it, contemplative. Did he see her? Would he come to her? Cynthia, seized by a panic of shame, flew into Aunt Lucy Pres

meeting in a flutter of expectancy not to be denied, and would have looked around had that not been a cardinal sin in Coniston. No Jethro! General opinion (had she waite