A Mountain Woman | Page 6

of it with drawing-room
re- strictions; and I laughed too, and felt that we had become very good
companions indeed, and found myself warming to the joy of
companionship as I had not since I was a boy at school.
That afternoon the four of us sat at a table in the Casino together. The
Casino, as every one knows, is a place to amuse yourself. If you have a
duty, a mission, or an aspiration, you do not take it there with you, it
would be so obviously out of place; if poverty is ahead of you, you
forget it; if you have brains, you hasten to conceal them; they would be
a serious encumbrance.
There was a bubbling of conversation, a rustle and flutter such as there

always is where there are many women. All the place was gay with
flowers and with gowns as bright as the flowers. I remembered the
apprehensions of my sister, and studied Leroy's wife to see how she
fitted 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 Müller 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.
"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