THEIMAGEOFDREAD
Inthecomfortablelittlesitting-roomoftheScottcottageDorisstood，lookingeagerlyfromthewindowwhichgaveupontheroad。
Behindherontheothersideoftheroom，couldbeseenthroughapartlyopeneddoor，aneatlyspreadbed，withahandlyingquietlyonthepatchedcoverlet。Itwasastronglookinghandwhich，evenwhenquiescent，conveyedtheideaofpurposeandvitality。AsDorissaid，thefingersnevercurleduplanguidly，butalwayswiththehintofaclench。SeveralweekshadpassedsincethedepartureofSweetwaterandtheinvalidwasfastgainingstrength。To-morrow，hewouldbeup。
WasDoristhinkingofhim?Undoubtedly，forhereyesoftenflashedhisway；buthermainattentionwasfixedupontheroad，thoughnoonewasinsightatthemoment。Someonehadpassedforwhosereturnshelooked；someonewhom，ifshehadbeenaskedtodescribe，shewouldhavecalledatall，fine-lookingmanofmiddleage，ofacultivatedappearanceseldomseeninthissmallmanufacturingtown；
seldomseen，possibly，inanytown。Hehadglancedupatthewindowashewentby，inamannertoomarkednottoexcitehercuriosity。
Wouldhelookupagainwhenhecameback?Shewaswaitingtheretosee。Why，shedidnotknow。Shewasnotusedtoindulginginpettysuppositionsofthiskind；herlifewastoobusy，heranxietiestookeen。Thegreatdreadloomingeverbeforeher，-thedreadofthathourwhenshemustspeak，-leftherverylittleheartforanythingdissociatedwiththiscomingevent。Foragirlofseventeenshewasunusuallythoughtful。Lifehadbeenhardinthislittlecottagesincehermotherdied，orrathershehadfeltitsresponsibilitieskeenly。
LifeitselfcouldnotbehardwhereOswaldBrothersonlived；neithertoman，norwoman。Thecheerofsomenaturespossessesadivinefaculty。Ifitcanhelpnootherway，itdoessobytheaidofitsownlight。Suchwasthecharacterofthisman’stemperament。Thecottagewasahappyplace；only-sheneverfathomedthedepthsofthatonly。Ifinthesedayssheessayedattimestodoso，shegavefullcredittotheDreadwhichroseeverbeforeher-roselikeaghost！She，Doris，ledbyinscrutableFate，waswaitingtohurthimwhohurtnobody；whosemerepresencewasablessing。
Butherinteresthadbeencaughtto-day，caughtbythisstranger，andwhenduringhereagerwatchthesmallmessengerfromtheWorkscametothedoorwiththeusualdailysupplyofbooksandmagazinesforthepatient，shesteppedoutontheporchtospeaktohimandtopointoutthegentlemanwhowasnowrapidlyreturningfromhisstrolluptheroad。”Whoisthat，Johnny?sheasked。”Youknoweverybodywhocomestotown。Whatisthenameofthegentlemanyouseecoming?”
Theboylooked，searchedhismemory，notwithoutsomeshowofmisgiving。”Aqueername，headmittedatlast。”Ineverheardthelikesofitherebefore。Shallysomething。Shally-Shally-””Challoner?””Yes，that’sit。Howcouldyouguess?He’sfromNewYork。Nobodyknowswhyhe’shere。Don’tseemtohavenobusiness。””Well，nevermind。Runon，Johnny。Anddon’tforgettocomeearlierto-morrow；Mr。Brothersongetstiredwaiting。””Doeshe?I’llcomequickthen；quickasIcanrun。”Andhespedoffatapacewhichpromisedwellforthemorrow。
Challoner！TherewasbutoneChallonerintheworldforDorisScott，-Edith’sfather。Wasthishe?Itmustbe，orwhythishauntingsenseofsomethinghalfrememberedasshecaughtaglimpseofhisface。Edith’sfather！andhewasapproaching，approachingrapidly，onhiswaybacktotown。Wouldhestopthistime?Asthepossibilitystruckher，shetrembledanddrewback，enteringthehouse，butpausinginthehallwithherearturnedtotheroad。
Shehadnotclosedthedoor；somethingwithin-ahopeoradread-hadpreventedthat。Wouldhetakeitasaninvitationtocomein?No，no；shewasnotreadyforsuchanencounteryet。HemightspeakEdith’sname；Oswaldmighthearand-withagaspsherecognisedtheclosenessofhisstep；hearditlag，almosthaltjustwherethepathtothehouseranintotheroadside。Butitpassedon。Hewasnotgoingtoforceaninterviewyet。Shecouldhearhimretreatingfurtherandfurtheraway。Theeventwasnotforthisday，thankGod！Shewouldhaveonenightatleastinwhichtoprepareherself。
Withasenseofreliefsogreatthatsherealised，foroneshockedmoment，thefullextentofherfears，shehastenedbackintothesitting-room，withhercollectionofbooksandpamphlets。Alowvoicegreetedher。Itcamefromtheadjoiningroom。”Doris，comehere，sweetchild。Iwantyou。”
Howshewouldhaveboundedjoyouslyatthesummons，hadnotthatDreadraiseditsbonyfingerineverycallfromthatdearlylovedvoice。Asitwas，herfeetmovedslowly，lingeringatthesound。
Buttheycarriedhertohissideatlast，andoncethere，shesmiled。”Seewhatanarmful，”shecriedinjoyousgreeting，assheheldoutthebundleshehadbrought。”Youwillbeamusedallday。Only，donottireyourself。””Idonotwantthepapers，Doris；notyet。There’ssomethingelsewhichmustcomefirst。Doris，Ihavedecidedtoletyouwritetoher。I’msomuchbetternow，shewillnotfeelalarmed。Imust-mustgetawordfromher。I’mstarvingforit。Iliehereandcanthinkofnothingelse。Amessage-onelittlemessageofsixshortwordswouldsetmeonmyfeetagain。Sogetyourpaperandpen，dearchild，andwriteheroneofyourprettiestletters。”
Hadhelovedher，hewouldhaveperceivedthechillwhichshookherwholebody，ashespoke。Buthisfirstthought，hispenetratingthought，wasnotforherandhesawonlytheansweringglance，thepatientsmile。Shehadnotexpectedhimtoseemore。Sheknewthatshewasquitesafefromthedivininglook；otherwise，hewouldhaveknownhersecretlongago。”I’mready，”saidshe。Butshedidnotlaydownherbundle。Shewasnotreadyforhertask，poorchild。Shequailedbeforeit。Shequailedsomuchthatshefearedtostirlestheshouldseethatshehadnocommandoverhermovements。
Themanwhowatchedwithoutseeingwonderedthatshestoodsostillandspokesobriefly。Butonlyforamoment。Hethoughtheunderstoodherhesitation，andalookofgreatearnestnessreplacedhisformeroneofgravedecision。”IknowthatindoingthisIamgoingbeyondmysacredcompactwithMissChalloner，”hesaid。”Ineverthoughtofillness，-atleast，ofillnessonmypart。IneverdreamtthatI，alwayssowell，alwayssofulloflife，couldknowsuchfeeblenessasthis，feeblenesswhichisallofthebody，Doris，leavingthemindfreetodreamandlong。
Talkofher，child。TellmealloveragainjusthowshelookedandspokethatdayyousawherinNewYork。””Woulditnotbebetterformetowritemyletterfirst?PapawillbecomingsoonandTrudacannevercookyourbirdasyoulikeit。”
Surprisednowbysomethingnotquitenaturalinhermanner，hecaughtatherhandandheldherasshewasmovingaway。”Youaretired，”saidhe。”I’veweariedyouwithmycommissionandcomplaints。Forgiveme，dearchild，and-””Youaremistaken，”sheinterruptedsoftly。”Iamnottired；Ionlywishedtodotheimportantthingfirst。ShallIgetmydesk?Doyoureallywishmetowrite?””Yes，”saidhe，softlydroppingherhand。”Iwishyoutowrite。Itwillensuremegoodsleep，andsleepwillmakemestrong。Afewwords，Doris；justafewwords。”
Shenodded；turningquicklyawaytohidehertears。Hissmilehadgonetoherverysoul。Itwasalwaysabeautifulone，hischiefpersonalattraction，butatthismomentitseemedtoconcentratewithinittheunspokenfervoursandtheboundlessexpectationsofagreatlove，andshewhowastheaimandcauseofallthissweetnesslayinunresponsivesilenceinadistanttomb！
ButDoris’ownsmilewasnotlackinginencouragementandbeautywhenshecamebackafewminuteslaterandsatdownbyhissidetowrite。Hismeltedbeforeit，leavinghiseyesveryearnestashewatchedherbendingfigureandthehard-workedlittlehandatitsunaccustomedtask。”Imustgiveherdailyexercises，”hedecidedwithinhimself。”Thatlookofpainshowshowdifficultthisworkisforher。Itmustbemadeeasyatanycosttomytime。Suchbeautycallsforaccomplishment。Imustnotneglectsoplainaduty。”
Meantime，shewasstrugglingtofindwordsinfaceofthatgreatDread。ShehadwrittenDearMissChallonerandwasstaringinhorroratthesoullesswords。Onlyhersenseofdutyupheldher。
Gladlywouldshehavetornthesheetintwoandrushedaway。Howcouldsheaddsentencestothishollowphrase，themereemploymentofwhichseemedasacrilege。DearMissChalloner。Oh，shewasdear，but-
Unconsciouslytheyoungheaddrooped，andthepenslidfromherhand。”Icannot，”shemurmured，”Icannotthinkwhattosay。””ShallIhelpyou?”camesoftlyfromthebed。”I’lltryandnotforgetthatitisDoriswriting。””Ifyouwillbesogood，”sheanswered，withrenewedcourage。”Icanputthewordsdownifyouwillonlyfindthemforme。””Writethen。’DearMissChalloner！””Ihavealreadywrittenthat。””Whydoyoushudder?””I’mcold。I’vebeencoldallday。Butnevermindthat，Mr。
Brotherson。Tellmehowtobeginmyletter。””Thisway。’I’venotbeenabletoansweryourkindletter，becauseIhavehadtoplaynurseforsomethreeorfourweekstoaveryfretfulandexactingpatient。’Haveyouwrittenthat?””No，”saidDoris，bendingoverherdesktillhercurlsfellinatangleoverherwhitecheeks。”Idonotliketo，”sheprotestedatlast，withanattemptatnaivetewhichseemedrealenoughtohim。”Well，leaveoutthefretfulifyoumust，butkeepintheexacting。
Ihavebeenexacting，youknow。”
Silence，brokenonlybythescratchingofthestubborn，illy-directedpen。”It’sdown，”shewhispered。Shesaid，afterward，thatitwaslikewritingwithaghostlookingoverone’sshoulder。”Thenadd，’Mr。Brothersonhashadaslightattackoffever，butheisgettingwellfast，andwillsoon-，DoIrunontooquickly?””No，no，Icanfollow。””Butnotwithoutlosingbreath；eh，Doris?”
Ashelaughed，shesmiled。Therewasaheroisminthatsmile，OswaldBrotherson，ofwhichyouknewnothing。”Youmightspeakalittlemoreslowly，”sheadmitted。