Page:Cather--One of ours.djvu/139

Rh bonnet. “Perhaps I take more interest in flowers than I do in people. I often envy you, Claude; you have so many interests.”

He coloured. “I? Good gracious, I don’t have many! I’m an awfully discontented sort of fellow. I didn’t care about going to school until I had to stop, and then I was sore because I couldn’t go back. I guess I’ve been sulking about it all winter.”

She looked at him with quiet astonishment. “I don’t see why you should be discontented; you’re so free.”

“Well, aren’t you free, too?”

“Not to do what I want to. The only thing I really want to do is to go out to China and help Carrie in her work. Mother thinks I’m not strong enough. But Carrie was never very strong here. She is better in China, and I think might be.”

Claude felt concern. He had not seen Enid since the sleigh-ride, when she had been gayer than usual. Now she seemed sunk in lassitude. “You must get over such notions, Enid. You don’t want to go wandering off alone like that. It makes people queer. Isn’t there plenty of missionary work to be done right here?”

She sighed. “That’s what everybody says. But we all of us have a chance, if we’ll take it. Out there they haven’t. It’s terrible to think of all those millions that live and die in darkness.”

Claude glanced up at the sombre mill house, hidden in cedars,—then off at the bright, dusty fields. He felt as if he were a little to blame for Enid’s melancholy. He hadn’t been very neighbourly this last year. “People can live in darkness here, too, unless they fight it. Look at me. I told you I’ve