The Callender Papers Read Online Free Page B

its back,was entirely built of gray stone. The roof was made of slate shingles. Two tall stone chimneys marked the ends of the main house, while a smaller chimney emerged from the kitchen wing. It was simple, plain and rather handsome.
    I wandered down the driveway, a dirt road leading away from the house. Soon trees closed over my head, their full foliage providing cool shade. Beyond the bird and insect noises, I heard water running. I turned off the road to the right and found a small river. Near the banks the water was shallow and clear, merry indeed, as it passed quickly over stones, running down the steep hill. I took off my shoes and stockings to wade in it. The mud bottom oozed between my toes, the water ran around my ankles, and it was altogether delightful. I kept carefully back from the deep center as I followed the bank down, listening to the brief songs of birds overhead, and a faint rustle of leaves at the tops of the overgrowing trees. I held my skirts high so that the water that played around my ankles would not dampen them. The cool water felt delicious. It is not surprising that I followed the river too far. I almost walked into view of the green lawn of another house, built of gray stone like Mr. Thiel’s.
    I was stopped from actually walking into view bythe sound of voices. I stepped back into the protecting trees on the bank. For a short time (just until my conscience got the better of me) I spied on a group of people who were out on that green lawn.
    A woman sat under a tree in one of three lawn chairs with a tall glass on the table beside her and a parasol held open to protect her face from the sun. Two boys, one almost a man, it seemed, played at croquet with a young lady. All of these people were finely dressed, the boys in crisp white suits and the ladies in white gowns. The only conversation that drifted down to my ears had to do with quarrels about the rules of the game. Then a man wearing a white suit emerged from the house. All conversation stopped.
    He was a handsome figure, with golden hair and a bold, free stride as he crossed the lawn. Tall, graceful, a golden man—he was unlike any man I had seen before. The men I had seen wore somber clothing and moved as if they were always thinking of their dignity. This man broke into a run as he hurried to join the young people at croquet. He picked up a mallet and whirled it around over his head, turning in circles but never the least off balance. The young people gathered up their balls to start a new game. One by one, he let them start before him, the youngest first. Hebowed and gestured with an arm to each in turn. When his own turn came he went easily to place the ball then planted his feet as carefully and precisely as a circus acrobat before making his play.
    When I finally turned away from the picture of the green lawn and made my way back up through the cool waters, I thought that this house, so like Mr. Thiel’s, must be the home of the Callenders, so that the man must be Enoch Callender, the woman his wife, and the three young people his children. I did not, beyond that, think any more of them because I just then realized I was in danger of being late for luncheon.

Chapter 3
    I was not late but I had no time to tidy myself before sitting down to table other than to slip into the kitchen to wash my hands. Aunt Constance would have sent me upstairs, but Mr. Thiel did not seem to notice my disarranged hair and heated face.
    I was seated where I had eaten breakfast, and Mr. Thiel sat where Mrs. Bywall had, across from me, but only the width across. This became our habitual way of eating together. The food was simple and good. I was, I discovered, quite hungry. For a while we ate silently, then he started a conversation.
    â€œMrs. Bywall spoke with you?”
    â€œYes,” I said.
    â€œDo you wish to leave?”
    â€œNo,” I said.
    He returned to his food. When he had cleaned hisplate, he sat looking at me, waiting for me