"Eva, why should you mention such a thing. Mr. Lyman couldn't give it
credence, even for a moment." She frowned.
"Mr. McElwin was kind enough to come to me the next morning," said
Lyman. "He was very much moved, and I feel that if he could he would
have the ruffians punished."
"I thank you for saying that, Mr. Lyman," Mrs. McElwin spoke up. "I
know he would." She glanced about and appeared to be nervous under the
gaze of the people on the hill. "I don't know what they think of us
three sitting here together," she said. "People out here are
peculiar."
"Let them think," the girl replied.
Lyman looked down and saw her shapely foot on the rock. The light was
strong where she sat, and he noticed a freckle on her cheek, and this
slight blemish drew her closer to him.
"But we must respect their thoughts," the mother replied.
"We should not put ourselves out on account of their prejudices,"
Lyman was bold enough to remark. The girl smiled at him.
"Perhaps not," Mrs. McElwin weakly agreed.
"Perhaps not!" Eva repeated. "Mother, you don't seem to think that I
am just as human as any of those girls up there, that I have
practically the same feelings. But I am, and I am not a bit better
than they--not any better than that girl up there under the tree
talking to that young man. Why, he's from town."
"He is Mr. Warren, my partner," said Lyman.
"Oh, is he? They say he is such a funny man. But he's nice looking. I
have seen him many a time, and he was pointed out to me once, but I
had forgotten his name."
"We'd better go now," said Mrs. McElwin.
"Oh, not yet," the daughter replied. "There's plenty of time. It won't
take us long to drive home. And besides, we haven't congratulated the
preacher yet. And there he comes now, down this way. See that girl
draw back as if she were going to throw something at Mr. Warren. He
must be a tease. Look at that old man laughing. Everybody wants to
shake hands with the preacher. I think he did splendidly. He
surprised me, I'm sure."
"He surprised us both on one occasion," said Lyman. Eva laughed, but
her mother looked grave. "Let us not speak of that," she said. "It has
caused us trouble enough; and not even now do I fully understand it.
Oh, I know that the legislature made some sort of blunder and that
Henry Bostic had been ordained, but I cannot realize that I am sitting
here talking to my daughter's legal husband. Still we can get
accustomed to anything in time, I suppose."
"I can hardly realize that I am a married man," Lyman replied. Mrs.
McElwin looked at him with a start, as if his words hurt her, as if
she suddenly felt that she was doing a grave injustice to her husband
to sit there talking to a man who would not have been permitted to
cross her threshold. She got up. "We must go," she said.
"Oh, not now," the daughter pleaded.
"Yes, we must go."
"But can't you let me stay and come home with Mr. Lyman."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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