The girl knew, by the listener’s expression that she was amazing him. Nor was she wrong. Marlita Arden was a snob. She would not speak civilly to a woman who earned her own living, and yet this young school-teacher spoke as though she knew the Southern heiress well.
He could not ask how well, and no further information was volunteered. Miss Bayley had risen and was donning her cloak. “I must be going,” she said, smiling at him, “for the dusk comes early these winter days.”
The young man implored, “Miss Bayley, won’t you come often? Have pity on a poor old fossil who’s a shut-in.”
“Perhaps! Good-by.” The teacher looked radiantly young and beautiful as she paused in the open door and smiled back at him.
“She’s a princess of a girl,” he thought; then he recalled his decision to never fall in love, and he tried to harden his heart.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
A RESOLUTION BROKEN
A never-to-be-forgotten winter followed that first blizzard. Never to be forgotten, at least, by the girl-teacher of the Woodford’s Cañon log-cabin school, by the young civil engineer, or by Dixie and Ken Martin. The other children were almost too young to know how portentous those months were.
After the storm there was a spell of clear, cold weather, when the snow-covered valley and mountains sparkled in the pale sunshine, inviting frolic.
For a time Mr. Edrington remained in the cabin, climbing hastily to the loft if sleigh-bells were heard without, but, as the days passed and the wrathful aunt, from whom he was hiding that he need not marry the girl of her choice, did not appear, he became more daring and ventured forth in the full light of day.
He it was who made, with Ken’s help, a wonderful slide down a steep trail which ended at the frozen stream in the valley. Then a marvelous toboggan was constructed, one long and strong enough to take them all on a wild ride from the highway to the valley-bottom.