“I had four years of school life with everything that money could buy, kind friends, pleasant surroundings and indulgent teachers.
“But oh, how I longed for mother, for the woods, the vines and moss, the whirr of saws, and the scream of the mill whistle and for Lannie. Oh, for one hour in the tangled forest with strong, brave Lannie would have paid me for all the suffering which I had to bear.
“At last the day arrived when Lannie’s reckoning proved correct; my father and Mr. Penway came to visit me at school; they quickly told me what the plans were, and for me to go on with a repetition of the details would only bore you. Mr. Penway made love to me in a manner that I then supposed was perfectly correct, but I have since been led to believe that his manner courtship was stereotyped, but it made no difference. I was the price of a home and a fortune, I saw it all; if I refused, my father’s years of labor would be lost, and he would be penniless and my mother homeless. I felt as though children were brought into the world much the same as horses, cattle and hogs, that a fixed sum might be realized on them.
“We were married in a hotel in St. Louis. All of the luxuries were supplied, gowns of rarest and most exquisite texture, and as I rudely told one of my bridesmaids, every article was there which is needed at a first class funeral except the casket and hearse.
“Music, ushers with stately tread, presents and flowers, great clusters of potted plants, waving ferns, roses, pure white lilies, narcissus, orange blossoms, loads of each, in full view; yes, and wrapped in a bit of white silk, nestled inside my clothing next to my heart, were a handful of withered wild flowers, which during four years had kept fresh in my memory.
“We went to Europe, spent the winter in sunny Italy. At times I did imagine I was happy, then the ghost of something, I knew not what, arose before me and all I could see was a contract, wherein so many dollars in hand paid, had been exchanged for a human form, which was so like ice that the purchaser could only gaze on his possession with a feeling that he, at least, got it first hand, without it ever having been placed on the bargain counter. I had no conception of what married life was, and I fear my husband was a poor teacher. Many fine pictures and rare ornaments found their way into the great pile of treasures and relics which we gathered with no thought of cost. Mr. Penway was a connoisseur, but not a lover. He was proud of me. I was introduced to many of the noble families; I was catered to by those whose station in life was apparently so far above me that I shuddered when I thought of a saw mill. We returned from our trip abroad, only to be ushered into a house of magnificence; that is, so far as grandeur was concerned. Servants to do my bidding, carriages at my command; all, everything that money could buy, but not one bit of love; not a word of that soul sustaining love.
“One year of this, and Mr. Penway was called to Europe again, this time on business. I had been in regular correspondence with my parents, and they insisted on my coming home for a visit during Mr. Penway’s sojourn abroad. I went and for the first time in nearly six years met Lannie. My first impulse was to throw myself into his arms, regardless of the presence of my parents, but I managed to control myself. However, during my stay there, I naturally roamed in the woods, through the mills; in that way saw much of Lannie. Dear old Lannie. With the same clock-like regularity he performed his duties; the same broad shoulders and the same tender blue eyes. If time had wrought changes in him, it was for the better. He seemed so mature with the full soft beard that covered his face. His words were all uttered in kindness. I asked my parents about him, and they told me how he had applied himself to my father’s interests, not losing a day from the confining duties of business and labor; in fact, he was the mainstay. If the head sawyer was sick or off duty, Lannie laid the master hand on the lever and the saws and the dust flew as the lumber piles grew higher and higher. If the engineer or fireman was absent, it was Lannie’s touch that put the machinery in motion, and his willing hands that heaved the great slabs into the furnace to make the steam. If any of the little colony were sick and needed attention, it was Lannie who kept the lonely vigil through the dark and solemn hours of blackest night, and when morning came he, mighty as the sun, shone all day, beaming with good nature; and when (as was often the case) the fever so prevalent in the swamps claimed a victim, it was Lannie’s gentle hands that folded the arms across the quiet breast and closed the staring eyes. It was his soothing, reassuring words which brought comfort to the poor mother whose heart bled in sorrow for her darling child; it was Lannie who would put his great, strong arms around the father and husband, as the clods fell with that sickening thud on the rough box that contained all that was left of the dearest treasure they had ever known; again, it was Lannie who took into his arms the fatherless children and told them that the father of all was God. In this way Lannie had lived, pouring out the generous love of his great warm nature, while I—Ugh! I shudder to think of it. I had been encased in a sheet of ice trying to freeze my emotion, trying to smother my heart throbs, lest, like some wild beast which in search of freedom and prey, plunges through the iron bars of its cage, it would bound through my breast, tearing and breaking the cords and crushing the coat of mail beyond repair.
“Is it any wonder that that very thing occurred? Are you surprised to learn that my poor, heavy, tugging heart was torn by force from the delicate tendrils and with one wild plunge left the enclosure which it had so long occupied? With a suddenness born of despair, I packed and left, no one knew why, and I was too proud and self-reliant to tell.
“I arrived home only to undergo days of torture and nights of sobbing misery. In about a week after my arrival I had a letter from my mother saying that Lannie was going to leave them. He had, by his frugal methods, saved a tidy sum, and, true to the teachings of the lumber camp, had invested in a tract of land, which at the time of purchase was almost valueless, but recently a railroad had been surveyed and was now being built through his broad acres, and Lannie was a rich man. He was coming to Chicago to buy machinery and set up in business of his own, and of course Lannie had been so good and nice always that he seemed just like one of the family, and if it was not too much trouble and embarrassment to have a countryman around, it would be nice for me to ask Lannie to spend a part of the time during his stay in the city at my house, etc.
“Oh, joys of Heaven and earth! Lannie here, and in my house. Oh, Lannie, Lannie! We can be all alone—with that thought some horrible, creeping feeling seized me and I was soon dripping with cold perspiration. Horrors upon horrors! No—no, I could never do that. The fury of Hell would be visited upon me, just as sure as that temptation was put before me. What could I do? For the first time since I was married I prayed. I asked God to give me strength of mind and body to direct me as I should go. After that I grew calmer, called my maid, instructed her to write my mother and tell her that I had concluded to sail for Liverpool and join Mr. Penway. Then we hurriedly began to pack. To get away—get away, run, fly, anything to escape that which was bound to overtake me if I stayed, was the only thought of my mind.