| The Twentieth Kansas was fortunate in opportunity, and heroic in action, and has won a permanent place in the hearts of a grateful people. —William McKinley. |
The sunny plains of Kansas were fair and full of growing in the spring of 1898. The alfalfa creeping out against the weeds of the old Cloverdale Ranch was green under the April sunshine. The breezes sweeping down the Grass River Valley carried a vigor in their caress. The Aydelot grove, just budding into leaf, was full of wild birds’ song. All the sights and sounds and odors of springtime made the April day entrancing on the Kansas prairies.
Leigh Shirley had risen at dawn and come up to the grove in the early morning. She tethered her pony to graze by the roadside, and with her drawing board on a slender easel she stood on the driveway across the lakelet, busy for awhile with her paints and pencil. Then the sweetness of the morning air, the gurgling waters at the lake’s outlet, once the little draw choked with wild plum bushes, and the trills of music from the shimmering boughs above her head, all combined to make dreaming pleasant. She dropped her brushes and stood looking at the lake and the bit of open woodland, and through it to the wide level fields beyond, with the river gleaming here and there under the touch of the morning light. 290
She recalled in contrast the silver and sable tones of the May night when she and Thaine sat on the driveway and saw the creamy water lilies open their hearts to the wooing moonlight and the caressing shadows. It was a fairyland here that night. It was plain daylight now, beautiful, but real. Life seemed a dream that night. It was very real this April morning. The young artist involuntarily drew a deep breath that was half a sigh and stooped to pick up her fallen brushes. But she dropped them again with a glad cry. Far across the lake, in the leaf-checkered sunshine, Thaine Aydelot stood smiling at her.
“Shall I stay here and spoil your landscape or come around and shake hands?” he called across to her.
“Oh, come over here and tell me how you happened,” Leigh cried eagerly.
Grass River people blamed the two years of the University life for breaking Thaine Aydelot’s interest in Jo Bennington. Not that Jo lacked for admirers without him. Life had been made so pleasant for her that she had not gone away to any school, even after her father’s election to office. And down at the University the pretty girls considered Thaine perfectly heartless, for now in his second year they were still baffled by his general admiration and undivided indifference toward all of them. His eager face as he came striding up the driveway to meet Leigh Shirley would have been a revelation to them.
“I ’happened’ last night, too late to-wake up the dog,” Thaine exclaimed. “I happened to run against Dr. Carey, who had a hurry-up call down this way, and he happened to drop me at the Sunflower Inn. He’s coming by for breakfast at my urgent demand. This country night 291 practice is enough to kill a doctor. His hair is whiter than ever, young as he is. He said he is going to take a trip out West and have a vacation right soon. I told him all my plans. You can tell him anything, you know. And, besides, I’m hoping he will beat me to the house this morning and will tell the folks I’m here.”
“Doesn’t your mother know you are here?” Leigh asked.
“Not yet. I wanted to come down early and tell the lake good-by. I have to leave again in a few hours.”