CHAPTER XX
The Crooked Trail
| Life may be given in many ways, And loyalty to truth be sealed As bravely in the closet as the field. —Lowell. |
“Here’s yo’ letter from the Fillippians, Mis’ Virginia; Mr. Champers done bring hit for you all.” Boanerges Peeperville fairly danced into the living room of the Sunflower Inn. “They ain’t no black mournin’ aidge bindin’ it round nuthah, thank the good Lawd foh that.”
Virginia Aydelot opened the letter with trembling fingers. It was only a brief page, but the message on it was big with comfort for her.
“It is from Horace,” she said, as her eyes followed the lines. “He was with Thaine when he wrote it. Thaine is perfectly well again and busy as ever. He and Horace seem to be needed over there yet awhile. Isn’t it wonderful how Thaine ever lived through that dreadful bullet wound and fever?”
“I jus’ wondeh how you all stand up undeh such ’flictions. Seems to me a motheh done wilt down, but they don’t. Mothehs is the bravest things they is,” Bo Peep declared with a broad grin of admiration.
“Oh, we get schooled to it. Asher’s mother waited through six years while he was in army service; and remember how long I waited in Virginia for him to come back to me! I wondered at the test of my endurance then. I 331 know now it was to prepare me for Thaine’s time of service for his country.”
“I done remember, all right, ’bout that time in ol’ Virginia, an’ the day I taken you the letteh up in the little glen behind the ol’ mansion house whah hit wah so cool and the watah’s so cleah. Misteh Horace wah home that day, too. Say, Mis’ Virginia, did—did he done mention my name anywhar in that letteh?”
The pathos of the dark face was pitiful.