XV
FLICKERING HOPE
It was with keen satisfaction that Steve caught a glimpse of Nancy’s white dress out under the trees upon his return to the Follets. He hurried over to the bench where she sat.
“Is there anything more satisfying than these Kentucky mountains?” he said, with enthusiasm, as he seated himself beside her. “There is something that constantly assures me I belong to them.”
“I have wondered that you were not captured by the city with all its allurements,” said Nancy.
“No,” returned Steve, “though perhaps I might have been at first had not my little foster-mother been loyal to Kentucky mountain need. But my experience the past three years as teacher has made it impossible for me to ever get away from the outstretched hand of Kentucky mountain children,” and his voice dropped into deep earnestness.
“I can understand how you feel,” said Nancy after a little silence. “I could not help being interested in the school when it was opened here. Little children came trudging in from the most barren cabin 191 homes, wide-eyed, and eager to ‘larn,’ and grown-up men and women tramped barefoot miles and miles every day to try to get some of the ‘larnin’ they’d heard about. Then they would plod away with the utmost patience trying to read and write. It was intensely pathetic. Nothing has ever touched and interested me so much as some supply work I have done for our school,” she added, a light upon her face, which thrilled Steve’s heart anew. What a help she could be to him in his chosen work!
“I am so glad you have felt the appeal of mountain need,” said he, struggling to keep the thrill out of his voice. And then he told her of his hopes and plans, of the dream he had of a new school within reach of Hollow Hut, a region to which new possibilities were about to come, he had learned at the county seat, through a projected railroad line. Of how he hoped to have help in the work from Mr. and Mrs. Polk and perhaps other capitalists of the north, and she was most interested, most appreciative, showing all the sweet seriousness of little Nancy of old.
But this long talk of some two hours which revealed again congenial tastes and ideals of life for the two only served to make Steve’s heart more intensely rebellious when, after supper, Raymond walked in once more with his debonair proprietorship of Nancy. As it happened she had just stepped out under the 192 trees to get a bit of fancy work left there in the afternoon, and Raymond joining her, barricaded the way to the house, insisting that the “old folks” were glad to get rid of them, till she laughingly sat with him there. It had been purely accidental, her going out just then, and she remained with inward protest, but Steve could only see in it complete surrender to the ardent suitor.
Mrs. Follet had not yet come out and Mr. Follet turned to Steve, laughing in a pleased way.