Thus Claire Boltwood's first voyage into democracy.
It was not so much that the sun was shining, in the morning, as that a
ripple of fresh breeze came through the window. She discovered that she
again longed to go on--keep going on--see new places, conquer new roads.
She didn't want all good road. She wanted something to struggle against.
She'd try it for one more day. She was stiff as she crawled out of bed,
but a rub with cold water left her feeling that she was stronger than
she ever had been; that she was a woman, not a dependent girl. Already,
in the beating prairie sun-glare, the wide main street of Gopher Prairie
was drying; the mud ruts flattening out. Beyond the town hovered the
note of a meadow lark--sunlight in sound.
"Oh, it's a sweet morning! Sweet! We will go on! I'm terribly excited!"
she laughed.
She found her father dressed. He did not know whether or not he wanted
to go on. "I seem to have lost my grip on things. I used to be rather
decisive. But we'll try it one more day, if you like," he said.
When she had gaily marched him downstairs, she suddenly and unhappily
remembered the people she would have to face, the gibing questions she
would have to answer.
The night clerk was still at the desk, as though he had slept standing.
He hailed them. "Well, well! Up bright and early! Hope you folks slept
well. Beds aren't so good as they might be, but we're kind of planning
to get some new mattresses. But you get pretty good air to sleep in.
Hope you have a fine hike today."
His voice was cordial; he was their old friend; faithful watcher of
their progress. Claire found herself dimpling at him.
In the dining-room their inquisitional acquaintance, the waitress,
fairly ran to them. "Sit down, folks. Waffles this morning. You want to
stock up for your drive. My, ain't it an elegant morning! I hope you
have a swell drive today!"
"Why!" Claire gasped, "why, they aren't rude. They care--about people
they never saw before. That's why they ask questions! I never thought--I
never thought! There's people in the world who want to know us without
having looked us up in the Social Register! I'm so ashamed! Not that the
sunshine changes my impression of this coffee. It's frightful! But that
will improve. And the people--they were being friendly, all the time.
Oh, Henry B., young Henry Boltwood, you and your godmother Claire have
a lot to learn about the world!"
As they came into the garage, their surly acquaintance of the night
before looked just as surly, but Claire tried a boisterous "Good
morning!"
"Mornin'! Going north? Better take the left-hand road at Wakamin. Easier
going. Drive your car out for you?"