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the red cross girl-第26部分

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were beginning to deck themselves with necklaces of lights。 They
had known her since they wore knickerbockers; and they shared
many interests and friends in common; they talked the same
language。 Latimer could talk to her only in letters; for with her
he shared no friends or interests; and he was forced to choose
between telling her of his lawsuits and his efforts in politics
or of his love。 To write to her of his affairs seemed wasteful
and impertinent; and of his love for her; after she had received
what he told of it in silence; he was too proud to speak。 So he
wrote but seldom; and then only to say: 〃You know what I send
you。〃 Had he known it; his best letters were those he did not
send。 When in the morning mail Helen found his familiar
handwriting; that seemed to stand out like the face of a friend
in a crowd; she would pounce upon the letter; read it; and;
assured of his love; would go on her way rejoicing。 But when in
the morning there was no letter; she wondered why; and all day
she wondered why。 And the next morning when again she was
disappointed; her thoughts of Latimer and her doubts and
speculations concerning him shut out every other interest。 He
became a perplexing; insistent problem。 He was never out of her
mind。 And then he would spoil it all by writing her that he loved
her and that of all the women in the world she was the only one。
And; reassured upon that point; Helen happily and promptly would
forget all about him。

But when she remembered him; although months had passed since she
had seen him; she remembered him much more distinctly; much more
gratefully; than that one of the two hundred and fifty with whom
she had walked that same afternoon。 Latimer could not know it;
but of that anxious multitude he was first; and there was no
second。 At least Helen hoped; when she was ready to marry; she
would love Latimer enough to want to marry him。 But as yet she
assured herself she did not want to marry any one。 As she was;
life was very satisfactory。 Everybody loved her; everybody
invited her to be of his party; or invited himself to join hers;
and the object of each seemed to be to see that she enjoyed every
hour of every day。 Her nature was such that to make her happy was
not difficult。 Some of her devotees could do it by giving her a
dance and letting her invite half of Boston; and her kid brother
could do it by taking her to Cambridge to watch the team at
practice。

She thought she was happy because she was free。 As a matter of
fact; she was happy because she loved some one and that
particular some one loved her。 Her being 〃free〃 was only her
mistaken way of putting it。 Had she thought she had lost Latimer
and his love; she would have discovered that; so far from being
free; she was bound hand and foot and heart and soul。

But she did not know that; and Latimer did not know that。

Meanwhile; from the branch of the tree in the sheltered; secret
hiding…place that overlooked the ocean; the sailorman kept watch。
The sun had blistered him; the storms had buffeted him; the snow
had frozen upon his shoulders。 But his loyalty never relaxed。 He
spun to the north; he spun to the south; and so rapidly did he
scan the surrounding landscape that no one could hope to creep
upon him unawares。 Nor; indeed; did any one attempt to do so。
Once a fox stole into the secret hiding…place; but the sailorman
flapped his oars and frightened him away。 He was always
triumphant。 To birds; to squirrels; to trespassing rabbits he was
a thing of terror。 Once; when the air was still; an impertinent
crow perched on the very limb on which he stood; and with
scornful; disapproving eyes surveyed his white trousers; his blue
reefer; his red cheeks。 But when the wind suddenly drove past
them the sailorman sprang into action and the crow screamed in
alarm and darted away。 So; alone and with no one to come to his
relief; the sailorman stood his watch。 About him the branches
bent with the snow; the icicles froze him into immobility; and in
the tree…tops strange groanings filled him with alarms。 But
undaunted; month after month; alert and smiling; he waited the
return of the beautiful lady and of the tall young man who had
devoured her with such beseeching; unhappy eyes。

Latimer found that to love a woman like Helen Page as he loved
her was the best thing that could come into his life。 But to sit
down and lament over the fact that she did not love him did not;
to use his favorite expression; 〃tend toward efficiency。〃 He
removed from his sight the three pictures of her he had cut from
illustrated papers; and ceased to write to her。

In his last letter he said: 〃I have told you how it is; and that
is how it is always going to be。 There never has been; there
never can be any one but you。 But my love is too precious; too
sacred to be brought out every week in a letter and dangled
before your eyes like an advertisement of a motor…car。 It is too
wonderful a thing to be cheapened; to be subjected to slights and
silence。 If ever you should want it; it is yours。 It is here
waiting。 But you must tell me so。 I have done everything a man
can do to make you understand。 But you do not want me or my love。
And my love says to me: 'Don't send me there again to have the
door shut in my face。 Keep me with you to be your inspiration; to
help you to live worthily。' And so it shall be。〃

When Helen read that letter she did not know what to do。 She did
not know how to answer it。 Her first impression was that suddenly
she had grown very old; and that some one had turned off the sun;
and that in consequence the world had naturally grown cold and
dark。 She could not see why the two hundred and forty…nine
expected her to keep on doing exactly the same things she had
been doing with delight for six months; and indeed for the last
six years。 Why could they not see that no longer was there any
pleasure in them? She would have written and told Latimer that
she found she loved him very dearly if in her mind there had not
arisen a fearful doubt。 Suppose his letter was not quite honest?
He said that he would always love her; but how could she now know
that? Why might not this letter be only his way of withdrawing
from a position which he wished to abandon; from which; perhaps;
he was even glad to escape? Were this true; and she wrote and
said all those things that were in her heart; that now she knew
were true; might she not hold him to her against his will? The
love that once he had for her might no longer exist; and if; in
her turn; she told him she loved him and had always loved him;
might he not in some mistaken spirit of chivalry feel it was his
duty to pretend to care? Her cheeks burned at the thought。 It was
intolerable。 She could not write that letter。 And as day
succeeded day; to do so became more difficult。 And so she never
wrote and was very unhappy。 And Latimer was very unhappy。 But he
had his work; and Helen had none; and for her life became a game
of putting little things together; like a picture puzzle; an hour
here and an hour there; to make up each day。 It was a dreary
game。

From time to time she heard of him through the newspapers。 For;
in his own State; he was an 〃Insurgent〃 making a fight; the
outcome of which was expected to show what might follow
throughout the entire West。 When he won his fight much more was
written about him; and he became a national figure。 In his own
State the people hailed him as the next governor; promised him a
seat in the Senate。 To Helen this seemed to take him further out
of her life。 She wondered if now she held a place even in his
thoughts。

At Fair Harbor the two hundred and forty…nine used to joke with
her about her politician。 Then they considered Latimer of
importance only because Helen liked him。 Now they discussed him
impersonally and over her head; as though she were not present;
as a power; an influence; as the leader and exponent of a new
idea。 They seemed to think she no longer could pretend to any
peculiar claim upon him; that now he belonged to all of them。

Older men would say to her: 〃I hear you know Latimer? What sort
of a man is he?〃

Helen would not know what to tell them。 She could not say he was
a man who sat with his back to a pine…tree; reading from a book
of verse; or halting to devour her with humble; entreating eyes。

She went South for the winter; the doctors deciding she was run
down and needed the change。 And with an unhappy laugh at her own
expense she agreed in their diagnosis。 She was indifferent as to
where they sent her; for she knew wherever she went she must
still force herself to go on putting one hour on top of another;
until she had built up the inexorable and necessary twenty…four。

When she returned winter was departing; but reluctantly; and
returning unexpectedly to cover the world with snow; to eclipse
the thin spring sunshine with cheerless clouds。 Helen took
herself seriously to task。 She assured herself it was weak…minded
to rebel。 The summer was coming and Fair Harbor with all its old
delights was before her。 She compelled herself to take heart; to
accept the fact that; after all; the world is a pretty good
place; and that to think only of t
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