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London, Jack, 1876-1916

"A Daughter of the Snows"

Since their last meeting he had
sacrificed his brown moustache to the frost, and his smooth face,
smitten with health and vigor, looked uncommonly boyish; and yet,
withal, the naked upper lip advertised a stiffness and resolution
hitherto concealed. Furthermore, his features portrayed a growth, and
his eyes, which had been softly firm, were now firm with the added
harshness or hardness which is bred of coping with things and coping
quickly,--the stamp of executiveness which is pressed upon men who do,
and upon all men who do, whether they drive dogs, buck the sea, or
dictate the policies of empires.
When the simple ceremony was over, Frona kissed Lucile; but Lucile felt
that there was a subtle something wanting, and her eyes filled with
unshed tears. Trethaway, who had felt the aloofness from the start,
caught an opportunity with Frona while Captain Alexander and Corliss
were being pleasant to Mrs. Trethaway.
"What's the matter, Frona?" the colonel demanded, bluntly. "I hope you
did not come under protest. I am sorry, not for you, because lack of
frankness deserves nothing, but for Lucile. It is not fair to her."
"There has been a lack of frankness throughout." Her voice trembled.
"I tried my best,--I thought I could do better,--but I cannot feign
what I do not feel. I am sorry, but I . . . I am disappointed. No, I
cannot explain, and to you least of all.


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