In the Way Read Free

immaculate luggage, came a dainty young woman. She had golden hair, which es-caped from the imprisoning shell combs into little sun-shiny rings about her temples, and her eyes were large and blue, keen and bright, yet tender. David's eyes were blue too. She was dressed all in brown, very plainly indeed, and yet it seemed extraordinary to Summerton, for they seldom saw a dress or a coat so perfectly made. The oldest grandchild, who was herself approaching young womanhood, wondered what in the world there was about her simple hat that looked “so awfully stylish,” and began studying it, if perchance her last year's might be made to serve in somewhat similar fashion.
                  Ruth Benedict walked the entire length of the platform to the dingy station, and had her baggage deposited on the grimy, much-cut benches, paid the porter a shining quarter, and then looked about for her brother. She had not discovered him in her walk down the platform.
                  He meantime had been sure that this was his sister, but he could not bring himself to speak while that important black porter was in attendance, and the blood mounted in rich waves to his face as she passed him. He turned his eyes the other way lest she should divine who he was and speak. She, meanwhile, knew not what manner of person to look for. She knew he was a farmer, but at least she expected a collar, and so she passed him by at the first glance; but something in his face, as he turned during the bustle of the moving train to slip around to where she stood, attracted her attention, and she looked again, a smile lighting up her sweet face, the same smile he remembered of her childhood. That smile enabled him to get over the embarrassing ground between them and reach her side without the painful interval he had expected.
                  “Are you David?” she asked eagerly before he reached her, and then without waiting to give him time for more than a nod in reply, she put up her pretty lips and threw one arm simply and gracefully about his neck and kissed him.
                  David felt as though he never had been through such a trying experience in his life, and would rather be killed outright than go through it again. He was painfully conscious of the watching eyes. He dared not turn toward them to sec what they thought. He had a faint hope that the outgoing train had attracted the attention of most of them, but it was only a hope. Ellen Amelia Haskins, the eldest granddaughter, was taking notes with undivided attention, and she immediately began to give abroad news.
                  All Summerton knew that away back in the years somewhere there had been a baby sister in the Benedict household, who had been adopted by the father's rich brother, but they had almost forgotten the story. Now, even as David hurried his sister to the waiting wagon behind the station, it was revived, as Ellen Amelia's excited voice proclaimed in tones which might have been heard by the occupants of the wagon, had it not been for their absorption in themselves, that she “just betted Dave Ben'dic's sister had come to make a visit, 'cause she kissed him,” and she added, "and he looked real kind of handsome and majestic bendin' down to encircle her slight form," and she giggled softly to herself and remembered the last week's story in the "Fireside Companion."
                  David Benedict did not stay to hear what might be said. He whipped up Old Gray as that animal could not remember to have been whipped since the last hired man got married and went away, and the wagon was soon hidden down the road behind the great elm trees at the corner.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

CHAPTER 2
     
     
    RUTH felt not a little dismayed to find her brother present so unpolished an appearance, but she tried to remember that it was early morning and she knew nothing of farm life. Doubtless he had left his morning work to meet