Annie Kilburn

Annie knew from the light in the kitchen window that Mrs. Bolton, who had

not gone to the meeting, was there, and she inferred from the silence of

the house that Bolton had not yet come home. She went up to her room, and

after a glance at Idella asleep in her crib, she began to lay off her

things. Then she sat down provisionally by the open window, and looked out

into the still autumnal night. The air was soft and humid, with a scent of

smoke in it from remote forest fires. The village lights showed themselves

dimmed by the haze that thickened the moonless dark.

She heard steps on the gravel of the lane, and then two men talking, one

of whom she knew to be Bolton. In a little while the back entry door was

opened and shut, and after a brief murmur of voices in the library Mrs.

Bolton knocked on the door-jamb of the room where Annie sat.

"What is it, Mrs. Bolton?"

"You in bed yet?"

"No; I'm here by the window. What is it?"

"Well, I don't know but what you'll think it's pretty late for callers, but

Mr. Peck is down in the library. I guess he wants to speak with you about

Idella. I told him he better see _you_."

"I will come right down."

She followed Mrs. Bolton to the foot of the stairs, where she kept on to

the kitchen, while Annie turned into the library. Mr. Peck stood beside her

father's desk, resting one hand on it and holding his hat in the other.

"Won't you be seated, Mr. Peck?"

"I thank you. It's only for a moment. I am going away to-morrow, and I wish

to speak with you about Idella."

"Yes, certainly. But surely you are not going to leave Hatboro', Mr. Peck!

I hoped--we all did--that after what you had seen of the strong feeling in

your favour to-night you would reconsider your determination and stay with

us!" She went on impetuously. "You must know--you must understand now--how

much good you can do here--more than any one else--more than you could do

anywhere else. I don't believe that you realise how much depends upon your

staying here. You can't stop the dissensions by going away; it will only

make them worse. You saw how Colonel Marvin and Mr. Wilmington were with

you; and Mr. Gates--all classes. I oughtn't to speak--to attempt to teach

you your duty; I'm not of your church; and I can only tell you how it seems

to me: that you never can find another place where your principles--your

views--"