"Why so pensive?" the voice of Isabel pierced her revery.
"Me--oh, I haven't had a chance to get a word in edgewise."
"I was telling Mr. Landis he should go on with his studies. A
correspondence course would be splendid for him if he can't get away
from the farm for regular college work."
"I'm going to write about that course right away," Martin said. "I'm
glad I had this talk with you, Miss Souders. I'll do as you suggest--
study nights for a time and then try to get into a bank in Lancaster.
It is so kind of you to offer to see your father about a position. I'd
feel in my element if I ever held a position in a real bank. I'll be
indebted to you for life."
"Oh," she disclaimed any credit, "your own merits would cause you to
make good in the position. I am sure Father will be glad to help you.
He has helped several young men to find places. All he asks in return
is that they make good. I know you'd do that."
When Martin Landis said good-night his earnest, "May I come again--
soon?" was addressed to Isabel. She magnanimously put an arm about
Amanda before she replied, "Certainly. We'll be glad to have you."
"Oh," thought Amanda, "I'll be hating her pretty soon and then how will
I ever endure having her around for a whole month! I'm a mean, jealous
cat! Let Martin Landis choose whom he wants--I should worry!"
She said good-night with a stoical attempt at indifference, thereby
laying the first block of the hard, high barricade she meant to build
about her heart. She would be no child to cry for the moon, the
unattainable. If her heart bled what need to make a public exhibition
of it! From that hour on the front porch she turned her back on her
gay, merry, laughing girlhood and began the journey in the realm of
womanhood, where smiles hide sorrows and the true feelings of the heart
are often masked.
The determination to meet events with dignity and poise came to her aid
innumerable times during the days that followed. When Martin came to
the Reist farmhouse with the news that his father was going to give him
money for a course in a Business School in Lancaster it was to Isabel
he told the tidings and from her he received the loudest handclaps.
The city girl, rosy and pretty in her morning dresses, ensconced
herself each day on the big couch hammock of the front porch to wave to
Martin Landis as he passed on his way to the trolley that took him to
his studies in the city. Sometimes she ran to the gate and tossed him a
rose for his buttonhole. Later in the day she was at her post again,
ready to ask pleasantly as he passed, "Well, how did school go to-day?"
Such seemingly spontaneous interest spurred the young man to greater
things ahead.