The Paper Cap: A Story of Love and Labor

by Amelia E. Barr

“I do. She was exceedingly tall and walked quite erect and was so white when I met her last that she looked like a ghost floating slowly along the road.”

“She had always a sense of being injured by being here at all—wondered why she had been sent to this world, and though a grand character was never really happy. Jonathan did not learn to read until he was over forty years of age; she was then eighty, and she helped him to remember his letters, and took the greatest pride in his progress. There ought to be schools for these people, there are splendid men and women mentally among them. Here we are at home. Come in, sir, and have a cup of tea with us before you climb the brow.”

Dick was very glad to accept the invitation and the preacher opened the door and said: “Come in, sir, and welcome!” and they went into a small parlor plainly furnished, but in perfect order, and Dick heard someone singing softly not far away. Before the preacher had more than given his guest a chair the door opened and Faith entered the room. If he had not been already in love with her he would have fallen fathoms deep in the divine tide that moment, for his soul knew her and loved her, and was longing to claim its own. What personal charm she had he knew not, he cared not, he had been drawn to her by some deep irresistible attraction, and he succumbed absolutely to its influence. At this moment he cast away all fears and doubts and gave himself without reservation to the wonderful experience.

Faith had answered her father’s call so rapidly, that Dick was not seated when she entered the room. She brought with her into the room an atmosphere of light and peace, through which her loveliness shone with a soft, steady glow. There was something unknown and unseen in her very simplicity. All that was sweet and wise, shone in her heavenly eyes, and their light lifted her higher than all his thoughts; they were so soft and deep and compelling. Very singularly their influence seemed to be intensified by the simple dress she wore. It was of merino and of the exact shade of her eyes, and it appeared in some way to increase their mystical power by the prolongation of the same color. There was nothing of intention in this arrangement. It was one of those coincidences that are perhaps suggested or induced by the angel that guards our life and destiny. For there are angels round all of us. Earth is no strange land to them. The dainty neatness of her clothing delighted Dick. After a season of ruffles and flounces and extravagant trimming, its soft folds falling plainly and unbrokenly to her feet, charmed him. Something of white lace, very narrow and unpretentious, was around the neck and sleeves which were gathered into a band above the elbows. Her hair, parted in the center of the forehead, lay in soft curls which fell no lower than the tip of the ears and at the back was coiled loosely on the crown of the head, where it was fastened by a pretty shell comb. The purity and peace of a fervent transparent soul was the first and the last impression she made, and these qualities revealed themselves in a certain homely sweetness, that drew everyone’s affection and trust like a charm.

She had in her hands a clean tablecloth and some napkins, but when she saw Dick, she laid them down, and went to meet him. He took her hand and looked into her eyes, and a rush of color came into her face and gave splendor to her smile and her beauty. She hastened to question him about his mother and Katherine, but even as they talked of others, she knew he was telling her that he loved her, and longed for her to love him in return.

“Faith, my dear,” said Mr. Foster, “our friend, Mr. Annis, will have a cup of tea with us before he goes up the brow,” and she looked at Dick and smiled, and began to lay the round table that stood in the center of the room. Dick watched her beautiful white arms and hands among the white china and linen and a very handsome silver tea service, with a pleasure that made him almost faint. Oh, if he should lose this lovely girl! How could he bear it? He felt that he might as well lose life itself.

For though Dick had loved her for some months, love not converted into action, becomes indolent and unbelieving. So he had misgivings he could not control and amid the distractions of London, his love, instead of giving a new meaning to his life, had infected him rather with a sense of dreamland. But in this hour, true honest love illumined life, he saw things as they were, he really fell in love and that is a wonderful experience, a deep, elemental thing, beyond all reasoning with. In this experience he had found at last the Key to Life, and he understood in a moment, as it were, that this Key is in the Heart, and not in the Brain. He had been very wise and prudent about Faith and one smile from her had shattered all his reasoning, and the love-light now in his eyes, and shining in his face, was heart-work and not brain work. For love is a state of the soul; anger, grief and other passions can change their mental states; but love? No! Love absorbs the whole man, and if not satisfied, causes a state of great suffering. So in that hour Love was Destiny and fashioned his life beyond the power of any other passion to change.

In the meantime Faith brought in tea and some fresh bread and butter, and a dish of broiled trout. “Mr. Braithwaite was trout fishing among the fells to-day,” she said, “and as he came home, he left half a dozen for father. He is one of the Chapel Trustees and very fond of line fishing. Sometimes father goes with him. You know,” she added with a smile, “fishing is apostolical. Even a Methodist preacher may fish.”

For a short time they talked of the reel and line, and its caprices, but conversation quickly drifted to the condition of the country and of Annis particularly, and in this conversation an hour drifted speedily away. Then Faith rose and brought in a bowl of hot water, washed the china and silver and put them away in a little corner cupboard.

“That silver is very beautiful,” said Dick.