Rawlings Institute - Hits and Bits Yearbook (Charlottesville, VA)

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lVe sat together and talked until very late. Dollie could dis- cuss almost any subject, criticise almost any book, and sing almost any song. She handled her guitar with ease and grace, and never before had I realized how sweet its music was. Every morning I heard the light footfhlls in the room above me, and quite naturally my curiosity rose very high. One morning I dressed hurriedly as soon as I heard the tbotfiills, and stationed myself at a crack in the door to peep into the library and recep- tion hall. Soon I saw Dollie with broom and dusterg her gingham apron covered her morning dress and her cap was without its usual frills. In a little while the front of the house was spotless and Dollie left, but before long she reappeared in a pretty pink morn- ing dress and white cap with little pink bows nestling in the lace. On one arm she carried a large covered basket, and on the other a basket of roses like the ones in my room. I watched her as she left, and determined to follow her. I kept at a safe distance, fbr I knew I was not doing exactly the proper thing, and if there was one person on earth in whose good graces I wished to dwell it was Dorothy Dunnington. She turned a corner at the court-house, and by the time I had done so she was out of sight. I gazed in all directions, but she was not to be seen. I returned to Lydia. All was quiet and I entered unobserved. A little while later I heard Dollie practicing. She always did so from six until seven, but I had never ventured in to hear her before, for she seemed always to want some one else present when we were together. When I entered she laughed and said: For once Mr. Lloyd Parkhurst, Jr., thought he should be industrious, so he chose this beautiful morning. I was not called from my morning slumbers by an aspiration for industry, but to hear your music and be near you. A bold stroke, but I did not often have an opportunity, so I thought I had better make the best of this one. Then I'll not weary you longer with my talking. She plunged into wave after wave of melody, now as soft and low and dim as the mist in the valley, new brilliant as the birds in the tree-tops. It was when her music was sad that she raised her sweet blue eyes and seemed unconscious of my presence, and her face wore an expression different from any I had ever seen there before. U Your music is divine, Miss Dunnington, but will you not go to the lawn and talk to me for a little while? I-Ier expression changed 5 for a moment she hesitated, but her quick brain soon framed an excuse. 4' That would be very delightful,,' came in her frank, child-like tone, ff but I have household duties to attend to and I must away. Already I have given you too much of my time. Boys are such rogues you have to watch them. If I, a big, good-for-nothing, college boy, was a rogue, what was the sly, elf-like Dollie? In the evening Guy and myself were in the library, reading, he rose and said : Park, I guess there are books enough here to amuse you until I return. I'll not be gone for long, but, you know, my engage- ment is rather urgent, and I am sure you do not mind my lack of ceremony.

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with a little frill of lace on top fevidently her head had been shavenj, which was amazingly becoming. I had never before admired a girl with a bald head, but the dainty cap, the dainty dress, the dainty gi1'l ! She was not a queenly beauty, but a model of' a sweet Virginia girl. She was deeply interested and seemed not to hear us. Guy suggested that I freshen my toilet before meeting the other members of the family. I-Ie took me into a sweet little chamber which was entered from the library. A shaded candle was burning in my room, the eur- tains to the bed and windows were of white, the wall-papering was of' green and gilt, a vase of large red roses was on the table and their bright faces seemed to murmur 4' NVeleome. XVhcn we returned to the library the girl was not there. Guy said, 4' W'onder where Dollie is. It was she whom you saw when we came in. She put those roses there and lit the candle, nobody told me so, but it looks like her work. She is a strange combina- tion. Never hears anything when she reads, a typical book- W0l'lH 3 still as lively as a cricket. By this time we had reached a rustic bench and began to chat of' old college days. Soon his mother, father, little sister and brother, and Dollie joined us. Of all the homes I have ever vis- ited it seems to me that Lydia was the most charming in every way. After tea, Guy and I went to call on some girls from Baltimore who were spending the summer in IV. YVe returned at about eleven o'clock. As we entered the lawn at Lydia we heard the strains of Intermezzo and a sweet voice, trembling with emo- tion, singing as if the song were the embodiment of' its sentiments, 4 '4Avc Maria, hear my cry ! The song was almost finished when we reached the casement and saw, seated at the piano in the moon- light, Dollie! I heard Guy mutter something about '40, why will she sing that thing ? - NVhen she saw us she smiled gaily and began to play our Frat. Two-Step, then our 4' Rowing Song, 44 Boola ! The W. V. A. Two-Step, and the 4' Virginia VValtz. The grandtather's clock in the hall struck one, and we retired. The next morning I heard some one in the room above me. I looked at my watch 5 it was not quite tive, so I went to sleep again. Dollie seemed to read and write most of the time 5 still she was the housekeeper, tbr her lllOtl1Gl',S health was frail 3 she taught the younger sister and brother, who were devoted to her, and she seemed glad to do all she could to add to my enjoyment at Lydia, but never could I induce her to go with me to the show, or even to take a walk unless Guy went with us. Her devotion to him was beautiful to see. Une evening as we came home we heard the same pitiful voice singing, 4' Only to see you, darling. Before we reached the house she was out on the lawn to meet us. I-Ier dress was of white, the neck just low enough to expose a delicate white throat. Every now and then, as her gentle breathing moved the frill of lace, I caught a glimpse of a dainty gold chain, which seemed to extend under her dress. She paused by a rustic bench and said : llow sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank I llere will we sit and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears : soft stillness and the night Heroine the touches of sweet ll2ll'l1l0l1y.H

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I took a volume of Tennyson and started for the rustic bench in ft Madison. Just before reaching it I saw Dollie seated there, diligently reading a volume of Moore. I saw her mark a line, then raise her hand to her lips. As she made this gesture she saw me and slipped a locket in the neck of her dress, and the gold chain disappeared in the frill of lace. As she sat there in her modest white dress and her little fluffy cap against the background of wild roses and ivy, I could not be strong and brave, but sank on the bench by her side, simply gazing, for what could I say 1' She rose. Grapevines hid the bench from the house, the terrace hid us from the street, so Nowf' thought I, ff we are alone, out of sight and hearing of every one, she shall listen to me I Her cheeks grew crimson. She forgot that the book was open at the place she had marked, and I saw, to my surprise, that the line was- f' For her heart in his grave is lyingfl She closed the book and said : ' It is almost time for tea-3 I must get fresh roses forthe table. I hope you will enjoy your reading here as much as I have. f' May I not go with you ? I should enjoy that far more. O, Mr. Lloyd Parkhurst, Jr., might scratch his fingers I You read, so you can tell Guy and me about it when he comes home. Ah, how much more I wanted to tell her what I felt! She knew it, and that was why she wanted me to tell her something out of a book. Horse-show week had passed 3 another week had passed, and now the third week was passing rapidly. The morning was damp, and I did not wake until she was leaving. I heard her step near my door, and when I looked through the library windows the pink and white of her costume was blending with the pink and green of' the rose-vine and ivy, and in an instant she had vanished behind ff Madison. I took my book and began to read whe1'e I left off the evening before: A daughter of the gods, divinely tall, And so divinely fair. I read no more, but watched for her to return. YVhen she came she looked tired, the two baskets were empty, the dark rings under her eyes showed that she had been weeping, her hands trembled, and, not seeing me, she sank on the sofa and buried her face in the pillows. For a moment she seemed to struggle for composure, but soon she rose, walked out of' the hall, and there was no trace of thc struggle of a flew minutes before. She allowed me to listen to her music, she read to me a little from Ruskin, but when I tried to draw her into conversation the household duties soon took her off' to the dining-room. It was Sunday morning, the clock in the hall struck four. I rose and was ready to start when the light foothills were heard in the hall. Dollie, as usual, had her two baskets, one of roses and one covered. I followed her closely. After turning the corner at the eourt-house she went to the back door of a small, dingy, frame house, emptied the contents of the heavy basket and placed a few of' the roses there with the provisions. So that was where I lost her on the first morning. I had never heard her speak of her charity work, but it was evidently her custom to provide for this poor family. I followed her farther and soon reached the x