The Secret of the Storm Country - Page 124/260

The dawning of Wednesday brought one of those drab days so frequent in the lake-country. The daylight, dim even at high noon, hardly suggested a possible sun shining anywhere. Misty sheets of stinging ice-particles drove from the northern skyline to the hill south of Ithaca.

The snow crunched sharply under Tessibel's feet as she picked her way from the shanty to the lane. Kennedy's brindle bull, leaping and barking, invited her to a frolic. The girl called the dog to her, and petted him.

"No, no, Pete, Tess ain't able to run an' play with ye any more," she told him, sadly, "but ye can go with me to Hayt's."

Nuzzling her hand, the great dog walked soberly by her side, as though he understood. Tess shivered a little as the frost-laden air bit nippingly at her ears. The winter birds between her and the lake lifted their wings and mounted against the wind, some driving in flocks, others now and then by twos and threes. Tess followed their flight through the storm.... How strong and happy they seemed!

For an instant she paused at the gate in front of Deforrest Young's empty house. The snow had drifted until the path could no longer be discerned. A little twinge of loneliness touched Tessibel's heart. Her friend would not be at the church that day.

When she came within sight of the chapel, she bent and petted Pete. She took his head between her gloved hands and looked into the lovely eyes shining out of his ugly face.

"Go home, Petey dearie," she said. "Tessibel air goin' to church. They don't let dogs in God's house, honey."

Obediently the dog turned and trotted off.

Tess opened the chapel door and stepped in. Buffeted, as she had been by the storm, she met the warmth within with a grateful little sigh.

Half-way to the stove in the middle of the room, she stopped, arrested by the unusual group beyond. Ebenezer Waldstricker stood there, surrounded by the elders of the church. In all she counted five men: the minister, Silander Griggs, and three elders. At one side sat Frederick Graves.

Puzzled and embarrassed by Frederick's presence and appearance, half-conscious of something menacing in the stern faces turned toward her, she was tempted, weary as she was, to turn back into the blizzard raging without. As she awkwardly scraped the snow from her shoes, Pastor Griggs came to her and led her to a seat near the fire.

Waldstricker gazed at her critically, but didn't bow his head. Tessibel didn't mind if people failed to speak to her, and she didn't like Waldstricker anyway. She did not look at Frederick after that first fleeting glance, but bowed her head on the pew-back in front from sheer weariness. The memory of that scene in the cabin three weeks previous recurred with renewed clearness. Madelene's insulting words, re-echoing in her ears, made her grow faint from stinging humiliation. Oh, how sorry she was she'd come to church! She could have asked Jake Brewer to bring up a note explaining that she could not take part in the Christmas doings.