"I dunno," Lou answered truthfully enough. "I been thinkin' 'bout the
institootion where I come from; it was seein' them little boys put me in
mind of it, I reckon. I was kinder wonderin' what it would be like to
really belong to anybody."
There was neither pathos nor self-pity in her tone, but rather a cold,
dispassionate speculation that froze the words of awkward sympathy which
rose to his lips, and he remained silent.
"I did once, you know," she continued, "belong to some--body, I mean. I
had on a white dress all trimmed with lace when they found me in the
station at the junction an' took me up to the institootion; it was the
only white dress I ever had."
"Where was this institution, Lou?" Jim asked. "You've never told me, you
know."
Lou shrugged.
"Oh, it was 'way up at a place called Mayfield's Corners; I was most
three hours on the train before I got to the station nearest Hess's
farm."
A vicious desire came over her to shock and repulse that inexplicable
thing in him which set him apart from her and made him one with the
world in which those others moved; that stout gentleman and the young
lady who had called him Jimmie. She added deliberately:
"I told you what I did there--at the institootion, I mean: scrubbed an'
cooked an' washed an' tended babies an' wore a uniform, just like any
other norphin, I guess. Slep' in the garret with the rats runnin' over
the floor, an' got up in the mornin' to the same old work. It warn't a
State institootion, you see; just a kind of a charity one, run by the
deacons of the church; I ain't got much use for charity."
"I shouldn't think you would have," he exclaimed. "But it's all behind
you now, Lou. We made fourteen miles to-day from Highvale--or will have
when we walk down the hill to Riverburgh to-morrow, and it is only sixty
miles further to New York."
"That's good," Lou said, but without enthusiasm. "Do we start at
sun-up?"
"I thought I'd like to work for Mrs. Bemis for a couple of hours first
and get the hay turned in that south field," Jim answered. "She's been
so good to us, and she'll need the stuff this winter for those two old
plugs out there."
He pointed out into the pasture, where two horses made mere blotches of
deeper shadow beneath a tree.
Lou laughed suddenly, softly, but it seemed to him that the rippling,
liquid note had vanished.
"What's funny?" he asked.
"Oh, nothin'. I was just thinkin' of you last night in that circus. You
rode so--so wonderfully. I wasn't laughin' at that, but it just come to
me how funny it would have been if any of your friends was to have seen
you!"
Jim glanced at her sharply, but in the starlight her face seemed merely
amused as at a whimsical thought.
"Why would it have been funny?" he insisted. "Of course I never rode in
a real circus before, and I guess I was pretty rotten, but why would my
friends have laughed?"
"I dunno." Lou dropped her arms from the fence-rail and turned away.
"Let's go back to the house. I--I'm pretty tired."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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