The Broad Highway

"It is nothing," I answered, "unless it be that I have not yet

recovered from Black George's fist; it is nothing!" And so the

meal drew to an end, and though, feeling my thoughts base, I sat

with my head on my hand and my eyes upon the cloth, yet I knew

she watched me, and more than once I heard her sigh. A man who

acts on impulse may sometimes be laughed at for his mistakes, but

he will frequently attain to higher things, and be much better

loved by his fellows than the colder, more calculating logician

who rarely makes a blunder; and Simon Peter was a man of impulse.

Supper being over and done, Charmian must needs take my coat,

despite my protests, and fall to work upon its threadbare

shabbiness, mending a great rent in the sleeve. And, watching

her through the smoke of my pipe, noting the high mould of her

features, the proud poise of her head, the slender elegance of

her hands, I was struck sharply by her contrast to the rough,

bare walls that were my home, and the toil-worn, unlovely garment

beneath her fingers. As I looked, she seemed to be suddenly

removed from me--far above and beyond my reach.

"That is the fourth time, Peter."

"What, Charmian?"

"That is the fourth time you have sighed since you lighted your

pipe, and it is out, and you never noticed it!"

"Yes" said I, and laid the pipe upon the table and sighed again,

before I could stop myself. Charmian raised her head, and looked

at me with a laugh in her eyes.

"Oh, most philosophical, dreamy blacksmith! where be your

thoughts?"

"I was thinking how old and worn and disreputable my coat looked."

"Indeed, sir," said Charmian, holding it up and regarding it with

a little frown, "forsooth it is ancient, and hath seen better

days."

"Like its wearer!" said I, and sighed again.

"Hark to this ancient man!" she laughed, "this hoary-headed

blacksmith of ours, who sighs, and forever sighs; if it could

possibly be that he had met any one sufficiently worthy--I should

think that he had fallen--philosophically--in love; how think

you, Sir Knight of the Rueful Countenance?"

"I remember," said I, "that, among other things, you once called

me 'Superior Mr. Smith.'" Charmian laughed and nodded her head

at me.

"You had been describing to me some quite impossible, idealistic

creature, alone worthy of your regard, sir."