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into this highly colored picture。 She was the only woman in the room who
seemed to wear draperies。 The jaunty slash and cut of fashionable attire
were missing in the long brown folds of cloth that enveloped her figure。 I
felt certain that even from Jessica's standpoint she could not be called a
guy。 Picturesque she might be； past the point of convention； but she was
not ridiculous。
〃Judith takes all this very seriously；〃 said Leroy； laughingly。 〃I suppose
she would take even Paris seriously。〃
His wife smiled over at him。 〃Leroy says I am melancholy；〃 she said；
softly； 〃but I am always telling him that I am happy。 He thinks I am
melancholy be… cause I do not laugh。 I got out of the way of it by being so
much alone。 You only laugh to let some one else know you are pleased。
When you are alone there is no use in laughing。 It would be like explain…
ing something to yourself。〃
〃You are a philosopher； Judith。 Mr。 Max Mü；ller would like to
know you。〃
〃Is he a friend of yours； dear？〃
Leroy blushed； and I saw Jessica curl her lip as she noticed the blush。
She laid her hand on Mrs。 Brainard's arm。
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〃Have you always been very much alone？〃 she inquired。
〃I was born on the ranch； you know； and father was not fond of
leaving it。 In… deed； now he says he will never again go out of sight of it。
But you can go a long journey without doing that； for it lies on a plateau in
the valley； and it can be seen from three different mountain passes。 Mother
died there； and for that reason and others father has had a strange life
he never wanted to go away。 He brought a lady from Pennsylvania to teach
me。 She had wonderful learning； but she didn't make very much use of it。 I
thought if I had learning I would not waste it reading books。 I would use it
to to live with。 Father had a library； but I never cared for it。 He was
forever at books too。 Of course；〃 she hastened to add； noticing the look of
mortification deepen on her hus… band's face； 〃I like books very well if
there is nothing better at hand。 But I always said to Mrs。 Windsor it was
she who taught me why read what other folk have been thinking when
you can go out and think yourself？ Of course one prefers one's own
thoughts； just as one prefers one's own ranch； or one's own father。〃
〃Then you are sure to like New York when you go there to live；〃 cried
Jessica； 〃for there you will find something to make life entertaining all the
time。 No one need fall back on books there。〃
〃I'm not sure。 I'm afraid there must be such dreadful crowds of people。
Of course I should try to feel that they were all like me； with just the same
sort of fears； and that it was ridiculous for us to be afraid of each other；
when at heart we all meant to be kind。〃
Jessica fairly wrung her hands。 〃Hea… vens！〃 she cried。 〃I said you
would like New York。 I am afraid； my dear； that it will break your heart！〃
〃Oh；〃 said Mrs。 Brainard； with what was meant to be a gentle jest； 〃no
one can break my heart except Leroy。 I should not care enough about any
one else； you know。〃
The compliment was an exquisite one。 I felt the blood creep to my
own brain in a sort of vicarious rapture； and I avoided looking at Leroy
lest he should dislike to have me see the happiness he must feel。 The
simplicity of the woman seemed to invigorate me as the cool air of her
moun… tains might if it blew to me on some bright dawn； when I had come；
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A Mountain Woman
fevered and sick of soul； from the city。
When we were alone； Jessica said to me： 〃That man has too much
vanity； and he thinks it is sensitiveness。 He is going to imagine that his
wife makes him suffer。 There's no one so brutally selfish as your sensitive
man。 He wants every one to live according to his ideas； or he immediately
begins suffering。 That friend of yours hasn't the courage of his
convictions。 He is going to be ashamed of the very qualities that made him
love his wife。〃
There was a hop that night at the hotel； quite an unusual affair as to
elegance； given in honor of a woman from New York； who wrote a novel a
month。
Mrs。 Brainard looked so happy that night when she came in the parlor；
after the music had begun； that I felt a moisture gather in my eyes just
because of the beauty of her joy； and the forced vivacity of the women
about me seemed suddenly coarse and insincere。 Some wonderful red
stones； brilliant as rubies； glittered in among the diaphanous black
driftings of her dress。 She asked me if the stones were not very pretty； and
said she gathered them in one of her mountain river…beds。
〃But the gown？〃 I said。 〃Surely； you do not gather gowns like that in
river…beds； or pick them off mountain…pines？〃
〃But you can get them in Denver。 Father always sent to Denver for my
finery。 He was very particular about how I looked。 You see； I was all he
had 〃 She broke off； her voice faltering。
〃Come over by the window；〃 I said； to change her thought。 〃I have
something to repeat to you。 It is a song of Sydney Lanier's。 I think he was
the greatest poet that ever lived in America； though not many agree with
me。 But he is my dear friend anyway； though he is dead； and I never saw
him； and I want you to hear some of his words。〃
I led her across to an open window。 The dancers were whirling by us。
The waltz was one of those melancholy ones which speak the spirit of the
dance more elo… quently than any merry melody can。 The sound of the sea
booming beyond in the darkness came to us； and long paths of light； now
red； now green； stretched toward the distant light…house。 These were the
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A Mountain Woman
lines I repeated：
〃What heartache ne'er a hill！ Inexorable； vapid； vague； and chill
The drear sand levels drain my spirit low。 With one poor word they tell me
all they know； Whereat their stupid tongues； to tease my pain； Do drawl it
o'er and o'er again。 They hurt my heart with griefs I cannot name；
Always the same the same。〃
But I got no further。 I felt myself moved with a sort of passion