The Way of a Man

The Way of a Man

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Title: The Way of a Man
Author: Emerson Hough
Release Date: December 15, 2004 [eBook #14362]
Language: English
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THE WAY OF A MAN
by
EMERSON HOUGH
Author of The Covered Wagon, etc.
Illustrated with Scenes from the Photoplay, The Way of A Man, A Pathé
Picture
Grosset & Dunlap Publishers New York
1907

[Illustration: GRACE SHOWS A LACK OF SYMPATHY.]

CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I
THE KISSING OF MISS GRACE SHERATON II THE MEETING
OF GORDON ORME III THE ART OF THE ORIENT IV WARS
AND RUMORS OF WAR V THE MADNESS OF MUCH KISSING
VI A SAD LOVER VII WHAT COMETH IN THE NIGHT VIII
BEGINNING ADVENTURES IN NEW LANDS IX THE GIRL
WITH THE HEART X THE SUPREME COURT XI THE MORNING
AFTER XII THE WRECK ON THE RIVER XIII THE FACE IN THE
FIRELIGHT XIV AU LARGE XV HER INFINITE VARIETY XVI
BUFFALO XVII SIOUX! XVIII THE TEST XIX THE QUALITY OF
MERCY XX GORDON ORME, MAGICIAN XXI TWO IN THE
DESERT XXII MANDY MCGOVERN ON MARRIAGE XXIII

ISSUE JOINED XXIV FORSAKING ALL OTHERS XXV
CLEAVING ONLY UNTO HER XXVI IN SICKNESS AND IN
HEALTH XXVII WITH ALL MY WORLDLY GOODS I THEE
ENDOW XXVIII TILL DEATH DO
PART XXIX THE GARDEN
XXX THEY TWAIN XXXI THE BETROTHAL XXXII THE
COVENANT XXXIII THE FLAMING SWORD XXXIV THE LOSS
OF PARADISE XXXV THE YOKE XXXVI THE GOAD XXXVII
THE FURROW XXXVIII HEARTS HYPOTHECATED XXXIX THE
UNCOVERING OF GORDON ORME XL A CONFUSION IN
COVENANTS XLI ELLEN OR GRACE XLII FACE TO FACE XLIII
THE RECKONING XLIV THIS INDENTURE WITNESSETH XLV
ELLEN
CHAPTER I
THE KISSING OF MISS GRACE SHERATON
I admit I kissed her.
Perhaps I should not have done so. Perhaps I would not do so again.
Had I known what was to come I could not have done so. Nevertheless
I did.
After all, it was not strange. All things about us conspired to be
accessory and incendiary. The air of the Virginia morning was so soft
and warm, the honeysuckles along the wall were so languid sweet, the
bees and the hollyhocks up to the walk so fat and lazy, the smell of the
orchard was so rich, the south wind from the fields was so wanton!
Moreover, I was only twenty-six. As it chances, I was this sort of a man:
thick in the arm and neck, deep through, just short of six feet tall, and
wide as a door, my mother said; strong as one man out of a thousand,
my father said. And then--the girl was there.
So this was how it happened that I threw the reins of Satan, my black

horse, over the hooked iron of the gate at Dixiana Farm and strode up
to the side of the stone pillar where Grace Sheraton stood, shading her
eyes with her hand, watching me approach through the deep trough
road that flattened there, near the Sheraton lane. So I laughed and
strode up--and kept my promise. I had promised myself that I would
kiss her the first time that seemed feasible. I had even promised
her--when she came home from Philadelphia so lofty and superior for
her stopping a brace of years with Miss Carey at her Allendale
Academy for Young Ladies--that if she mitigated not something of her
haughtiness, I would kiss her fair, as if she were but a girl of the
country. Of these latter I may guiltily confess, though with no names, I
had known many who rebelled little more than formally.
She stood in the shade of the stone pillar, where the ivy made a deep
green, and held back her light blue skirt daintily, in her high-bred way;
for never was a girl Sheraton who was not high-bred or other than fair
to look upon in the Sheraton way--slender, rather tall, long cheeked,
with very much dark hair and a deep color under the skin, and
something of long curves withal. They were ladies, every one, these
Sheraton girls; and as Miss Grace presently advised me, no milkmaids
wandering and waiting in lanes for lovers.
When I sprang down