Not half so wonderful as you,Lahoma.His voice vibrated with sudden intensity.There's your wonderful hair,like light shining through a brown veil ...and your eyes where your soul keeps her lights flashing when all the rest of you is in twilight ...and your hands and feet,four faithful little guides to the wonderful treasures that belong only to maidenhood ...and your mouth,changing with your thoughts--an adorable little thermometer,showing how high the smiles have risen in your heart;a mouth so pure and sweet--
Hey!shouted Bill Atkins,as he and Brick came around the angle of the hill.Hi,there!You may call that strolling,but if so,it's because you don't know its true name,if you ask ME!
Wilfred came to himself with a sharp indrawing of his breath.Yes,he stammered,somewhat dizzily,Yes,I--I must be going,now.
She held his hand beseechingly.But you'll come again,won't you?When I hold your hand,it's like grabbing at a bit of the big world.
No,Lahoma,I'm not coming again.His look was long and steady,showing sudden purpose which concealed regret beneath a frank smile of liking.
She still held his hand,her brown eyes large with entreaty.You WILL come again,Wilfred!You must come again!Don't mind Bill.I'll have a talk with him after you're gone.I'll send him over to the ranch after you.Just say you'll come again if I send for you.
Of course he'll come,honey,said Brick,melted by the tears that sounded in her voice.He won't get huffy over a foolish old codger like Bill Atkins.Of course he'll come again and tell you about street-cars and lamp-posts.Let him go to his work now,he's been up all night,just to get a word with you.Let him go--he'll come back tomorrow,I know.
Wilfred turned to Brick and looked into his eyes as he slowly released Lahoma's hand.
Oh!said Brick,considerably disconcerted.No,I reckon he won't come back,honey--yes,I guess he'll be busy the rest of the summer.Well,son,put 'er there--shake!I like you fine,just fine,and as you can't come here to see us no more,being so busy and--and otherwise elsewhere bound--I'm kinder sorry to see you go.
Partings,said Bill,somewhat mollified,are painful but necessary,else there wouldn't be any occasion for dentists'chairs.
That's so,Brick agreed.You called Lahoma an oasis.And what is an oasis?Something you come up to,and go away from,and that's the end of the story.You don't settle down and live at a spring just because it give you a drink when you was thirsty.A man goes on his way rejoicing,and Wilfred according.
Lahoma walked up to Wilfred with steady eyes.Are you coming back to see me?she asked gravely.
No,Lahoma.At least not for a long,long time.I don't believe it's good for me to forget the life I've chosen,even for a happy hour.When I left the city,it was to drop out of the world--nobody knows what became of me,not even my brother.You've brought everything back,and that isn't good for my peace of mind and so--good-bye!
Tall and straight he stood,like a soldier whose duty it is to face defeat;and standing thus,he fastened his eyes upon her face as if to stamp those features in a last long look upon his heart.
Good-by,said Lahoma;this time she did not hold out her hand.Her face was composed,her voice quiet.If in her eyes there was the look of one who has been rebuffed;her pride was too great to permit a show of pain.
Wilfred hesitated.But what was to be done?Solitude and homesickness had perhaps distorted his vision;at any rate he had succumbed to the folly against which he had been warned.He could not accept Lahoma as a mere child;and though,during the scene,he had repeatedly reminded himself that she was only fifteen,her face,her voice,her form,her manner of thought,refused the limits of childhood.Therefore he went away,outwardly well-content with his morning,but inwardly full of wrath that his heart had refused the guidance of his mind.
And she had been so simple,so eager to meet him on an equal plane,even clinging to him as to the only hope in her narrow world that might draw her out into deeper currents of knowledge.
I've always been a fool,he muttered savagely,as he sought his horse.I was a fool about Annabel--and now I'm too big a fool to enjoy what fortune has fairly flung in my path.Presently he began to laugh--it was all so ridiculous,beating a retreat because he could not regard a fifteen-year-old girl as a little child!He drew several time-worn letters from his pocket and tore them into small bits that fluttered away like snowflakes on the wind.He had no longer a sentimental interest in them,at all events.
