Under the Country Sky

Under the Country Sky, by Grace S. Richmond

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Title: Under the Country Sky
Author: Grace S. Richmond
Illustrator: Frances Rogers
Release Date: March 1, 2007 [EBook #20719]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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[Illustration: "'Come, George--you need a good tramp,' Stuart urged at Jeannette's elbow"]
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UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY
By GRACE S. RICHMOND
Author of
"Red Pepper Burns," "Mrs. Red Pepper," "The Twenty-Fourth of June," "The Second Violin," Etc.
With Frontispiece in Colors By FRANCES ROGERS
A. L. BURT COMPANY Publishers New York
Published by Arrangements with DOUBLEDAY, PAGE AND COMPANY
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COPYRIGHT, 1916, BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF TRANSLATION INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN
COPYRIGHT, 1915, 1916, BY THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY
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CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. Heart Burnings 3 II. Something Really Happens 15 III. A Semi-Annual Occurrence 31 IV. A Literary Light 39 V. Shabbiness 50 VI. When Royalty Comes 60 VII. Snowballs 71 VIII. Soapsuds 84 IX. A Reasonable Proposition 96 X. Stuart Objects 105 XI. Borrowed Plumes 119 XII. Early Morning 135 XIII. A Copyist 143 XIV. Out of the Blue 153 XV. "Great Luck!" 164 XVI. A Little Trunk 176 XVII. Reaction 187 XVIII. "Steady On!" 199 XIX. Revelations 212 XX. Five Minutes 228 XXI. Messages 236 XXII. Toasts 248 XXIII. Why Not? 259 XXIV. Magic Gold 270 XXV. Great Music 283 XXVI. Salt Water 295 XXVII. "Cakes and Ices" 310 XXVIII. A Tanned Hercules 323 XXIX. Milestones 332 XXX. Questions and Answers 342
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CHAPTER I
HEART BURNINGS
She did not want to hate the girls; indeed, since she loved them all, it would go particularly hard with her if she had to hate them; love turned to hate is such a virulent product! But, certainly, she had never found it so hard to be patient with them.
They were all five her college classmates, of only last year's class, and it was dear and kind of them to drive out here into the country to see her, coming in Phyllis Porter's great family limousine, the prettiest, jolliest little "crowd" imaginable. They had been thoughtful enough to warn her that they were coming, too, so that she could set the old manse living-room in its pleasantest order, build a crackling apple-wood fire in the fireplace, and get out her best thin china and silver with which to serve afternoon tea--she made it chocolate, with vivid recollection of their tastes; and added deliciously substantial though delicate sandwiches, with plenty of the fruitiest and nuttiest kinds of little cakes. She had donned the one real afternoon frock she possessed, a clever make-over out of nothing in particular. Altogether, when she greeted her guests, as they ran, fur-clad and silk-stockinged after the manner of their kind, into her welcoming arms, she had seemed to them absolutely the old Georgiana.
They had brought her a wonderful box of red roses--and Phyllis had caught her kissing one of the great, silky buds as she put it with the rest in a bowl. "I don't believe she's seen a hothouse rose since she left college," thought Phyllis, with a stab of pity at her tender heart. But for the first hour of their stay Georgiana had been her gay and brilliant self, flinging quips and jests broadcast, asking impertinent questions, making saucy comments, quite as of old. It was only when Dot Manning, toward the end of the visit, began a sober tale of the misfortunes which had come thronging into the life of one of their classmates, that Georgiana's face, sobering into sympathetic gravity, betrayed to her companions a curious change which had come upon it since they saw it last.
Meanwhile, in answer to her questioning, they had told her all about themselves. Phyllis Porter and Celia Winters were having a glorious season in society. Theo Crossman was deep in settlement work--"crazy over it" was, of course, the phrase. Dot Manning was going abroad next week for a year of travel in all sorts of beguiling, out-of-the-way places. As for Madge Sylvester, who was getting ready to be married after Easter, the first of the class, she sat mostly in a dreamy, smiling silence, looking into the fire while the others talked.
No, Georgiana did not want to hate the girls, but before their stay was over she found herself coming dangerously near it--temporarily, at least. They were dears, of course, but they were so content with themselves and so pitiful of her. Not, of course, that they meant to let her