A Modern Idyll

A Modern Idyll, by Frank Harris

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Title: A Modern Idyll
Author: Frank Harris
Release Date: October 12, 2007 [EBook #23009]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A
MODERN IDYLL ***

Produced by David Widger

A MODERN IDYLL
By Frank Harris
"I call it real good of you, Mr. Letgood, to come and see me. Won't you
be seated?"

"Thank you. It's very warm to-day; and as I didn't feel like reading or
writing, I thought I'd come round."
"You're just too kind for anythin'! To come an' pay me a visit when you
must be tired out with yesterday's preachin'. An' what a sermon you
gave us in the mornin'--it was too sweet. I had to wink my eyes pretty
hard, an' pull the tears down the back way, or I should have cried right
out--and Mrs. Jones watchin' me all the time under that dreadful
bonnet."
Mrs. Hooper had begun with a shade of nervousness in the hurried
words; but the emotion disappeared as she took up a comfortable pose
in the corner of the small sofa.
The Rev. John Letgood, having seated himself in an armchair, looked
at her intently before replying. She was well worth looking at, this Mrs.
Hooper, as she leaned back on the cushions in her cool white dress,
which was so thin and soft and well-fitting that her form could be seen
through it almost as clearly as through water. She appeared to be about
eighteen years old, and in reality was not yet twenty. At first sight one
would have said of her, "a pretty girl;" but an observant eye on the
second glance would have noticed those contradictions in face and in
form which bear witness to a certain complexity of nature. Her features
were small, regular, and firmly cut; the long, brown eyes looked out
confidently under straight, well-defined brows; but the forehead was
low, and the sinuous lips a vivid red. So, too, the slender figure and
narrow hips formed a contrast with the throat, which pouted in soft,
white fulness.
"I am glad you liked the sermon," said the minister, breaking the
silence, "for it is not probable that you will hear many more from me."
There was just a shade of sadness in the lower tone with which he
ended the phrase. He let the sad note drift in unconsciously--by dint of
practice he had become an artist in the management of his voice.
"You don't say!" exclaimed Mrs. Hooper, sitting up straight in her
excitement "You ain't goin' to leave us, I hope?"

"Why do you pretend, Belle, to misunderstand me? You know I said
three months ago that if you didn't care for me I should have to leave
this place. And yesterday I told you that you must make up your mind
at once, as I was daily expecting a call to Chicago. Now I have come
for your answer, and you treat me as if I were a stranger, and you knew
nothing of what I feel for you."
"Oh!" she sighed, languorously nestling back into the corner. "Is that
all? I thought for a moment the 'call' had come."
"No, it has not yet; but I am resolved to get an answer from you to-day,
or I shall go away, call or no call."
"What would Nettie Williams say if she heard you?" laughed Mrs.
Hooper, with mischievous delight in her eyes.
"Now, Belle," he said in tender remonstrance, leaning forward and
taking the small cool hand in his, "what is my answer to be? Do you
love me? Or am I to leave Kansas City, and try somewhere else to get
again into the spirit of my work? God forgive me, but I want you to tell
me to stay. Will you?"
"Of course I will," she returned, while slowly withdrawing her hand.
"There ain't any one wants you to go, and why should you?"
"Why? Because my passion for you prevents me from doing my work.
You tease and torture me with doubt, and when I should be thinking of
my duties I am wondering whether or not you care for me. Do you love
me? I must have a plain answer."
"Love you?" she repeated pensively. "I hardly know, but--"
"But what?" he asked impatiently.
"But--I must just see after the pies; this 'help' of ours is Irish, an' doesn't
know enough to turn them in