A Cry in the WildernessWaller, Mary E. (Mary Ella)
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A Cry in the Wilderness
Waller, Mary E. (Mary Ella)
New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Québec (Province) -- Fiction
I turned suddenly to Mr. Ewart, not knowing why I felt impelled to;
perhaps his silence, his noticeable unresponsiveness to his friend's
proposition, impressed as well as surprised me; at any rate I looked up
very quickly and caught the look he gave me. It half terrified me.
What had I said to offend him? The steel gray eyes were almost black,
and the look--had it possessed physical force, I felt it would have
crushed me. It was severe, indignant, uncompromising. I was
mystified. The look was more flashed at me than directed at me for the
space of half a second--then he spoke to Jamie.
"You are right, Jamie, about the wilderness; we 'll talk this matter
over sometime together before John goes,"--I perceived clearly that
Mrs. Macleod and I were shut out of future conferences,--"and I know we
can make some plan satisfactory to him and to us all. Count on me,
John, to help you in carrying out the best plan whatever it may be. In
any case, it will mean that we are to have more of your company, and
that's what I want." He spoke lightly.
Doctor Rugvie smiled, then his features grew earnest again.
"Gordon, I want to put a question to you, and after you to Jamie."
"Yes; go ahead."
"I have given you the mere outlines of a bare and ugly episode of New
York city. That man, or those two men, or that dual entity, has never
ceased to perplex me. How does it look to you, knowing merely the
outlines?"
"As if the woman had been dealing with two different men," he replied
almost indifferently.
The Doctor looked at him earnestly, and I saw he was puzzled by his
friend's attitude. "That may be--one never can tell in such cases," he
answered quietly; but I could feel his disappointment.
"That's queer, Ewart," said Jamie, gravely; "to me it looks as if two
men had done a girl an irreparable wrong." Perhaps we all felt that
the conversation had been carried a little too far in this direction.
The Doctor turned it into other channels, but it lagged. I felt
uncomfortable, and wished I had insisted upon going up to my room when
the subject of the farm was broached. After all, we had come to no
decision, and I doubted if the Doctor was much the wiser for all our
opinions.
Marie's entrance with the porridge relieved the tension somewhat, and I
was glad to say good night as soon as I had finished mine.
XIII
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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