In August a young man who was
to teach in the town schools came to Bidwell, and she met him at a supper
given in the basement of the church. He walked home with her and came on
the following Sunday afternoon to call. She introduced the young man, a
slender fellow with black hair, brown eyes, and a serious face, to her
father who answered by nodding his head and walking away. She and the young
man walked along a country road and went into a wood. He was five years
older than herself and had been to college, but she felt much the older and
wiser. The thing that happens to so many women had happened to her. She
felt older and wiser than all the men she had ever seen. She had decided,
as most women finally decide, that there are two kinds of men in the world,
those who are kindly, gentle, well-intentioned children, and those who,
while they remain children, are obsessed with stupid, male vanity and
imagine themselves born to be masters of life. Clara's thoughts on the
matter were not very clear. She was young and her thoughts were indefinite.
She had, however, been shocked into an acceptance of life and she was made
of the kind of stuff that survives the blows life gives.
In the wood with the young school teacher, Clara began an experiment.
Evening came on and it grew dark. She knew her father would be furious that
she did not come home but she did not care. She led the school teacher
to talk of love and the relationships of men and women.
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