Clergy -- Fiction; Iowa -- Fiction; Mississippi River Valley -- Fiction
Every small town has girls like 'Thusia Fragg. You may see them arm in
arm at the railway station as the trains pause for a few minutes, ready
to chaffer with any “nice-looking” young fellow in a car window. You see
them strolling past the local hotel, two or three in a group, ready to
fall into step with any young drummer who is willing to leave his chair
for a stroll. Some are bad girls, some are on the verge of the precipice
of evil, and some, like 'Thusia, are merely lovers of excitement and not
yet aware of the real dangers with which they play.
'Thusia, running the streets, was in danger of becoming too daring. She
knew the town talked about her and she laughed at its gossip. In such a
contest the rebel usually loses; in conspiring against smugness she ends
by falling into the ranks of immorality. In Riverbank before the Civil
War the danger to reputation was even greater than it is now; morality
was marked by stricter conventions.
'Thusia, despite her new dress and hat, did not linger downtown after
her meeting with David. She took the teasing of her two girl friends,
who made a great joke of her attempt to flirt with the new dominie,
good-naturedly, but she left them as soon as she could and walked home.
Her face burned with shame as she thought of the surprised glance David
had given her at the foot of the gangplank and, as she entered her
motherless home, she jerked her hat from her head and angrily threw
it the length of the hall. She stood a moment, opening and closing her
fists, like an angry animal, and then, characteristically, she giggled.
She retrieved her hat, put it on her head and studied herself in the
hall mirror. She tried several smiles and satisfied herself that they
were charming and then, unhooking her dress as she went, she mounted the
stairs. When she was in her room she threw herself on her bed and wept.
Her emotions were in a chaos; and out of this came gradually the feeling
that all she cared for now was to have those cool gray eyes of David's
look upon her approvingly. Everything she had done in her life seemed to
have been deliberately planned to make them disapprove of her. Weighing
her handicap calmly but urged by wounded pride, or desire, or love--she
did not know which--she set about her pitiful attempt to fascinate David
Dean.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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