Page:The Star in the Window.pdf/328

318 fathom. I've got to start along to my train in five or ten minutes. So talk fast, Reba. Come, tell me, what horrible thing is it you've escaped that makes you so thankful to heaven for your New England rock-bottom? This mysterious husband of yours, child?"

"Oh, no. Not Nathan," Reba assured her. "I should hope I wasn't trying to escape the man I married of my own free will."

"Oh!" the intuitive Cousin Pattie exclaimed. There was an emphasis in the girl's speech that substantiated the rumor about her, which she had heard at Hattie Miles'. "Look here," she asked bluntly in a lower tone. "Is it another man who's messed up your affairs for you, Reba?"

Reba replied steadily, "No, it isn't; but it might have been, if it wasn't for the things which the dredge couldn't reach. Cousin Pattie," she went on, "I want you to know one thing. You ought to, so when you advise other girls. I want you to know that it was the traditions of this little corner of the world, the ideals that seemed to you so choking, so suffocating, that saved me. You made them look ridiculous. And they're not—always."

"Good for you, Reba!" Cousin Pattie applauded. "Good for you! That's the way to talk. I always did say, 'give me a woman who's tested her traditions—ideals, beliefs—whatever you want to call 'em—refused to take 'em for granted, as they were passed down to her, but poured water into them herself to see if they'd hold it!' Convictions, Reba, born of experience are grand things—and you've got 'em! My gracious, you've got 'em, Reba!"

"Oh, no, I haven't. I haven't many convictions.