A Mountain Woman by Elia Wilkinson Peattie

By Elia Wilkinson Peattie

Elia Wilkinson Peattie was once a prolific fiction author who designated her studies as a lady within the West in dozens of essays, brief tales, and novels. In "A Mountain Woman," Peattie offers us the exciting story of a worldly ny urban architect who marries a country yet eminently useful girl from the mountains of Colorado and brings her again to the East to mingle with excessive society. [C:\Users\Microsoft\Documents\Calibre Library]

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It was a little middle-aged woman in plain clothes, and with sad gray eyes. " said she. He did not speak, but his face answered her. "I knew you were coming to-day. I've waited all these years, David. You didn't think I believed what you said in that letter did you? " Two Pioneers IT was the year of the small-pox. The Pawnees had died in their cold tepees by the fifties, the soldiers lay dead in the trenches without the fort, and many a gay French voyageur, who had thought to go singing down the Missouri on his fur-laden raft in the springtime, would never again see the lights of St.

While she was still thinking, the first ice-needles of the blizzard came pepper- ing the windows. The cattle ran bellowing to the lee side of the house and crouched there, and the chickens scurried for the coop. Catherine seized such blankets and bits of carpet as she could find, and crammed them at windows and doors. Then she piled coal on the fire, and clothed the children in all they had that was warmest, their out-door gar- ments included; and with them close about her, she sat and waited. The wind seemed to push steadily at the walls of the house.

The bowed man in the car-seat remem- bered with a flush of reminiscent misery how the lad turned suddenly in his walk and entered the door of a drinking-room that stood open. It was very comfortable within. The screens kept out the chill of the autumn night, the sawdust-sprinkled floor was clean, the tables placed near together, the bar glittering, the attendants white-aproned and brisk. David liked the place, and he liked better still the laughter that came from a room within. It had a note in it a little different from anything he had ever heard before in his life, and one that echoed his mood.

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