Wayside Courtships, by Hamlin 
Garland 
 
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Title: Wayside Courtships 
Author: Hamlin Garland 
Release Date: January 2, 2007 [EBook #20247] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAYSIDE 
COURTSHIPS *** 
 
Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed Proofreading 
Team at http://www.pgdp.net 
 
WAYSIDE COURTSHIPS 
BY HAMLIN GARLAND
AUTHOR OF A SPOIL OF OFFICE, A LITTLE NORSK, ETC. 
NEW YORK D. APPLETON AND COMPANY M DCCC XCVII 
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Copyright, 1897, by D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
Copyright, 1895, 1896, 1897, by Hamlin Garland 
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WAYSIDE COURTSHIPS 
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Hamlin Garland's Books. 
Uniform edition. Each, 12mo, cloth, $1.25. 
Wayside Courtships. Jason Edwards. A Spoil of Office. A Member of 
the Third House. A Little Norsk. 16mo. 50 cents. 
D. APPLETON & COMPANY, NEW YORK. 
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The meeting of true lovers' eyes Seems wrought of chance; and yet 
Perhaps the same grim law abides Therein as when the dead one lies 
Low in the grave, and memory chides, And with hot tears love's lids are 
wet. 
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CONTENTS. 
PAGE 
AT THE BEGINNING 1
A PREACHER'S LOVE STORY 5 
A MEETING IN THE FOOTHILLS 55 
A STOP-OVER AT TYRE 99 
AN ALIEN IN THE PINES 171 
THE OWNER OF THE MILL FARM 201 
OF THOSE WHO SEEK: 
I.--THE PRISONED SOUL 223 
II.--A SHELTERED ONE 226 
III.--A FAIR EXILE 230 
IV.--THE PASSING STRANGER 247 
BEFORE THE LOW GREEN DOOR 253 
UPON IMPULSE 263 
THE END OF LOVE IS LOVE OF LOVE 279 
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AT THE BEGINNING. 
She was in the box; he was far above in the gallery. 
He looked down and across and saw her sitting there fair as a flower 
and robed like a royal courtesan in flame and snow. 
Like a red torch flamed the ruby in her hair. Her shoulders were framed 
in her cloak, white as marble warmed with firelight. Her gloved hands 
held an opera glass which also glowed with flashing light.
His face grew dark and stern. He looked down at his poor coat and 
around at the motley gallery which reeked with the smell of tobacco 
and liquor. 
Students were there--poor like himself, but with great music-loving, 
hungry, ambitious souls. Men and women of refinement and 
indomitable will sat side by side with drunken loafers who had chanced 
to stumble up the stairway. 
His eyes went back to her. So sweet and dainty was every thread on her 
fair body. No smell of toil, nor touch of care, nor mark of weariness. 
Her flesh was ivory, her eyes were jewels, her heart was as clean and 
sweet as her eyes. She was perfectly clothed, protected, at ease. 
No, not at ease. She seemed restless. Again and again she swept her 
glass around the lower balcony. 
The man in the gallery knew she was looking for him, and he took a 
bitter delight in the distance between them. He waited, calm as a lion in 
his power. 
The man at her elbow talks on. She does not hear. She is still looking--a 
little swifter, a little more anxiously--her red lips ready to droop in 
disappointment. 
The noise of feet, of falling seats, continues. Boys call shrilly. Ushers 
dart hastily to and fro. The soft laughter and hum of talk come up from 
below. 
She has reached the second balcony. She sweeps it hurriedly. Her 
companion raises his eyes to the same balcony and laughs as he speaks. 
She colors a little, but smiles as she lifts her eyes to the third balcony. 
Suddenly the glass stops. The color surges up her neck, splashing her 
cheeks with red. Her breath stops also for a moment, then returns quick 
and strong. 
Her smile settles into a curious contraction that is almost painful to see.
His unsmiling eyes are looking somberly, sternly, accusingly into hers. 
They are charged with all the bitterness and hate and disappointed 
ambition which social injustice and inequality had wrought into his 
soul. 
She shivered and dropped her glass. Shivered and drew her fleecy, pink 
and pale-blue cloak closer about her bare neck. 
Her face grew timid, almost appealing, as she turned it upward toward 
him like a flower, to be kissed across the height that divided him from 
her. 
His heart swelled with exultation. His face softened. From the height of 
his intellectual pride he bent his head and sent a winged caress 
fluttering down upon that flowerlike face. 
And then the stealing harmony of the violins began, gliding like mist 
above the shuddering, tumultuous, obscure thunder of the drums, and    
    
		
	
	
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