self in the
atmosphere she radiated, of sweetest womanhood, of tenderness she
displayed only to Baby Paul, but some of which was reflected on me. The
mere speaking voice of her, telling me of rumbling bull-frogs, of a
terrible little garter-snake beheld on the main road, of a tiny calf
which, she feared, was destined to go the way of all veal, was melody
and charm and delight. Gordon once told me that a man and a woman cannot
be true friends long. There is no middle ground, he explained, it must
be either more or less. But I would meet her on the road on the days of
my arrival. She would walk all but the last quarter mile, that ran along
a sun-beaten lane surfaced with red-hot dust, and wait for me beside a
little watering trough usually tenanted by a beady-eyed froglet, which
she counted among her friends. From afar she would wave her hand, her
face joyous and welcoming, and would insist on knowing at once the
contents of the packages I was always laden with. On our way to the farm
she would faithfully recount the incidents of the past week, and finally
we would sit down on the little porch and thirty-six hours of
heavenliness would begin. And always, she was a friend, nothing but the
dear friend which Gordon deemed an impossibility, and I firmly
endeavored to follow her lead. Yes, there were evenings of starlight,
afternoons among the oaks and chestnuts of the hillsides where we sat on
ground heavily carpeted with last year's leaves and moss of silvery
green, early mornings by the side of the lake under the caress of the
rising breeze, and ever I managed to padlock my heart, to control the
shakiness of my voice, to laugh out gaily as if the world's beauty could
not possibly leave room in a man's soul for hopeless longing.

And then back to the city again! Frances had often urged me to stay a
little longer; it would do me so much good. She sometimes thought I
looked tired, but I refused with the obstinacy of the weak. She argued
that I was utterly master of my time and, one day, with a trace of
woman's injustice, said that thirty-six hours of her company was all
that I could stand. I remember feeling a terrific wave of heat coming to
my brow. Never was I nearer to an indignant protest to be followed by
the blurting of the whole truth, of nothing but the truth, to the effect
that I loved her madly, wildly, and could have crushed her in my arms
till she cried for mercy. But I laughed, stupidly, with my finger-nails
diggi