Prev | Current Page 124 | Next

Allen, James Lane, 1849-1925

"The Mettle of the Pasture"

I had only a few moments and drove by just to speak
to you, just to tell you how much I love you."
Kate's face changed and she dropped her eyes. "Is so little of me
so much nowadays?" she asked, feeling as though the friendship of a
lifetime were indeed beginning to fail her along with other things.
"No, no, no," cried Isabel. "I wish we could never be separated."
She rose quickly and went over to the piano and began to turn over
the music. "It seems so long since I heard any music. What has
become of it? Has it all gone out of life? I feel as though
there were none any more."
Kate came over and looked at one piece of music after another
irresolutely.
"I have not touched the piano for weeks."
She sat down and her fingers wandered forcedly through a few
chords. Isabel stepped quickly to her side and laid restraining
hands softly upon hers: "No; not to-day."
Kate rose with averted face: "No; not any music to-day!"
The friends returned to their seat, on which Kate left her work.
She took it up and for a few moments Isabel watched her in silence.
"When did you see Rowan?"
"You know he lives in the country," replied Isabel, with an air of
defensive gayety.
"And does he never come to town?"
"How should I know?"
Kate took this seriously and her head sank lower over her work:
"Ah," she thought to herself, "she will not confide in me any
longer. She keeps her secrets from me--me who shared them all my
life.


Pages:
112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136
The request /download_links.php was not found on this server.
brak autoryzacji nieautoryzowano 905 brak autoryzacji brak autoryzacji