Beth Norvell: A Romance of the WestParrish, Randall
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Beth Norvell: A Romance of the West
Parrish, Randall
Western stories; Women pioneers -- Fiction
It was an exceedingly alert exchange of words which followed, each
cautiously exploring a way in toward a somewhat clearer understanding
of the other, yet both becoming quickly convinced that they were not
destined for ordinary acquaintanceship. To Miss Norvell observing her
companion with shy intentness, this erect, manly young fellow with
weather-browned, clean-shaven face and straightforward gray eyes seemed
to evince a power of manhood she instinctively felt and surrendered to.
His were those elements which a woman of her nature must instantly
recognize--physical strength and daring, combined with mental acuteness
and indomitable will. The fact of his present unworthy employment
added the fascination of mystery to his personality, for it was
manifestly impossible to conceive that such a position was all this man
had ever achieved in life. And Winston wondered likewise at her, his
earlier admiration for the bright attractiveness of face and manner
broadening as her mind gave quick response to his leadership. Here was
certainly no commonplace girl of the stage, but an educated, refined,
ambitious woman, matured beyond her years by experience, her
conversation exhibiting a wide range of reading, interwoven, with a
deep knowledge of life. They spoke of ideals, of art, of literature,
of secret aspirations, not often mentioned during such early
acquaintanceship, breaking through that mental barrenness which had
characterized their living for weeks, this common ground of thought and
interest awakening between them an immediate friendliness and frankness
of utterance delightfully inspiring. Almost without comprehending how
it occurred they were chatting together as if the eventful years had
already cemented their acquaintanceship. With cheeks flushed and eyes
glowing from aroused interest Miss Norvell increased in beauty, and
Winston observed her with an admiration finding frank expression in his
eyes.
It was a small chapel they sought, situated at the extreme end of the
straggling street, and the worshippers were few. At the conclusion of
the ritual and the sermon the two walked forth together in silence,
their former brief intimacy a mere memory, neither realizing exactly
how best to resume a conversation which had been interrupted by so
solemn a service. It was Miss Norvell who first broke the constraint.
"You are evidently well acquainted with the intricacies of the
prayer-book," she remarked quietly, "and hence I venture to inquire if
you are a churchman."
"Not exactly, although my parents are both communicants, and I was
brought up to attend service."
"Do you know, I am glad even of that? It is a little additional bond
between us merely to feel interested in the same church, isn't it? I
was guilty during the service of thinking how exceedingly odd it was
for us to talk so frankly together this morning when we knew absolutely
nothing regarding each other. Would you mind if I questioned you just
a little about yourself?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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