The Schoolmaster's Letters Page #4

"The Schoolmaster's Letters" by Lucy Maud Montgomery is a charming collection of correspondence written by a schoolmaster in a small community. Through his letters, the schoolmaster shares his observations about life, education, and the quirky characters in his village, blending humor with poignant reflections. The book captures Montgomery's signature warmth and keen insight into human nature, showcasing her deep appreciation for the rhythms of rural life and the transformative power of teaching. It offers readers a glimpse into a bygone era, filled with both lighthearted anecdotes and thoughtful commentary on the challenges and joys of community and education.

• Short story

								

marvellous beauty? Not so. She was a sweet and slender slip of
girlhood, with girlhood's own charm and freshness. There were
thousands like her in the world--thank God for it!--but only one like
her in one man's eyes.

He stood before her mute with shame, his boyish face white and
haggard. She had blushed crimson all over her dainty paleness at sight
of him, and laid her hand quickly on the breast of her white gown. Her
eyes were downcast and her breath came shortly.

He thought her silence the silence of anger and scorn. He wished that
he might fling himself in the dust at her feet.

"Una--Miss Clifford--forgive me!" he stammered miserably. "I--I did
not send them. I never meant that you should see them. A shameful
trick has been played upon me. Forgive me!"

"For what am I to forgive you?" she asked gravely. She did not look
up, but her lips parted in the little half-smile he loved. The blush
was still on her face.

"For my presumption," he whispered. "I--I could not help loving you,
Una. If you have read the letters you know all the rest."

"I have read the letters, every word," she answered, pressing her hand
a little more closely to her breast. "Perhaps I should not have done
so, for I soon discovered that they were not meant for me to read. I
thought at first you had sent them, although the writing of the
address on the packet did not look like yours; but even when I knew
you did not I could not help reading them all. I do not know who sent
them, but I am very grateful to the sender."

"Grateful?" he said wonderingly.

"Yes. I have something to forgive you, but not--not your presumption.
It is your blindness, I think--and--and your cruel resolution to go
away and never tell me of your--your love for me. If it had not been
for the sending of these letters I might never have known. How can I
forgive you for that?"

"Una!" he said. He had been very blind, but he was beginning to see.
He took a step nearer and took her hands. She threw up her head and
gazed, blushingly, steadfastly, into his eyes. From the folds of her
gown she drew forth the little packet of letters and kissed it.

"Your dear letters!" she said bravely. "They have given me the right
to speak out. I will speak out! I love you, dear! I will be content to
wait through long years until you can claim me. I--I have been so
happy since your letters came!"

He put his arms around her and drew her head close to his. Their lips
met.
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