A Voice in the Wilderness

ere low when they spoke about the common things by the wayside. Once t

trangely drawn to him and wonderfully at home in his company. She could not understand herself nor him. It was as if his real soul had looked out of his eyes and spoken, untrammeled by the circumstances of birth or breeding or habit, and she knew him for a kindred spirit. And yet he

at he had said about not making good. She wondered if there was anything else she could say to help him, but no words came to her, and the sad, set loo

here she had arranged to board. Then Margaret sent a telegram to her mother to say that she had arrived safely, a

ngrain carpet of ancient pattern, hideous chromos on the walls, and frantically common furniture setting up in its shining varnish to be pretentious; but the girl had not seen it yet. She was filled with a great homesickness that had not

ht, but somehow words seemed so inadequate, and tears kept crowding their way into her throat and eyes. Absurd it was,

d then looked up, a swift, timid glance, and

ever did, finding you. I sha'n't forget, even if you never let me s

" she said.

ly fashion, bending low over her hand.

ting his horse, rode away into the l

n her. For the moment all her brave hopes of the future had fled, and if she could have slipped unobserved out of the fr

r coming to this wild, she could not think of on

lids she turned in a panic to prevent them. She could not afford to cry now. Mrs

of other presences. In the doorway stood a man and a dog, both regarding her intently w

nce around his rather weak mouth. He was dressed in a city business suit of the latest cut, however, and looked as much out of place in t

that the girl instinctively resented. Was it a shade

ances dictated, and regarded her with an air of brief indecision. She felt she was bei

ely. For the dog she felt a glow of friendliness at once, but for the man she suddenly,

her hands on her apron, "but them beans boiled clean over, and I hed to put 'em in a bigger kettle. You see, I put in more beans '

st of mankind. You 'ain't? Well, let me hev the pleasure of interjucin' our new school-teacher, Miss Margaret Earle. I '

oman who rattled on in this happy, take-it-for-granted way; but there was something so innocently pleased in her manner that she

of friends. When they told me the new teacher was to board here I really hesitated. I have seen something of these Western teache

do but take it or seem rude to her hostess; but her manner was lik

le of finality as if he were dismissed. He did not seem disposed to take the hint and withdraw, however, until on a sudden the great dog came and stood between them with open-mouthed welcome and joyous gree

r arms about his neck. Something in his kindly dog expre

the situation. He kicked gingerly at the

ir. You're annoying th

his menacing eyes at the man, turning his body slightly so that he sto

ceptance of the friendship he had offered her, and he waved his plume once more a

e walked to the window and looked out. Then to himself he mused: "A pretty girl. A

e girl and went to school all alone for the first time had she felt so very forlorn, and it was the little bare bedroom that h

le wooden rocker, another small, straight wooden chair, a hanging wall-pocket decorated with purple roses, a hanging bookshelf composed of three thin boards strung together with

exquisite wild roses, whose pattern was repeated in the border of the simple curtains and chair cushions, white-enamel furniture, pretty brass bed soft as down in its luxurious mattress, spotless and invi

e bath-room at home. She had known she would not have her home luxuries, of course, but she ha

erful and far it stretched, in colors unmatched by painter's brush, a purple mountain topped by rosy clouds in the distance. For the second tim