The Call Of The Canyon by Zane Grey (most inspirational books .txt) 📕

Been Any,  He Performed Wherever He Happened To Be. Morrison's Father Had

Made A Fortune In Leather During The War. And Carley Remembered Glenn

Telling Her He Had Seen Two Whole Blocks In Paris Piled Twenty Feet Deep

With Leather Army Goods That Were Never Used And Probably Had Never Been

Intended To Be Used. Morrison Represented The Not Inconsiderable Number Of

Young Men In New York Who Had Gained At The Expense Of The Valiant Legion

Who Had Lost. But What Had Morrison Gained? Carley Raised Her Eyes To Gaze

Steadily At Him. He Looked Well-Fed,  Indolent,  Rich,  Effete,  And Supremely

Self-Satisfied. She Could Not See That He Had Gained Anything. She Would

Rather Have Been A Crippled Ruined Soldier.

"Larry,  I Fear Gain And Loss Are Mere Words," She Said. "The Thing That

Counts With Me Is What You Are."

He Stared In Well-Bred Surprise,  And Presently Talked Of A New Dance Which

Had Lately Come Into Vogue. And From That He Passed On To Gossip Of The

Theatres. Once Between Courses Of The Dinner He Asked Carley To Dance,  And

She Complied. The Music Would Have Stimulated An Egyptian Mummy,  Carley

Thought,  And The Subdued Rose Lights,  The Murmur Of Gay Voices,  The Glide

And Grace And Distortion Of The Dancers,  Were Exciting And Pleasurable.

Morrison Had The Suppleness And Skill Of A Dancing-Master. But He Held

Carley Too Tightly,  And So She Told Him,  And Added,  "I Imbibed Some Fresh

Pure Air While I Was Out West--Something You Haven't Here--And I Don't Want

It All Squeezed Out Of Me."

The Latter Days Of July Carley Made Busy--So Busy That She Lost Her Tan And

Appetite,  And Something Of Her Splendid Resistance To The Dragging Heat And

Late Hours. Seldom Was She Without Some Of Her Friends. She Accepted Almost

Any Kind Of An Invitation,  And Went Even To Coney Island,  To Baseball

Games,  To The Motion Pictures,  Which Were Three Forms Of Amusement Not

Customary With Her. At Coney Island,  Which She Visited With Two Of Her

Younger Girl Friends,  She Had The Best Time Since Her Arrival Home. What

Had Put Her In Accord With Ordinary People? The Baseball Games,  Likewise

Pleased Her. The Running Of The Players And The Screaming Of The Spectators

Amused And Excited Her. But She Hated The Motion Pictures With Their

Salacious And Absurd Misrepresentations Of Life,  In Some Cases Capably

Acted By Skillful Actors,  And In Others A Silly Series Of Scenes Featuring

Some Doll-Faced Girl.

But She Refused To Go Horseback Riding In Central Park. She Refused To Go

To The Plaza. And These Refusals She Made Deliberately,  Without Asking

Herself Why.

On August 1st She Accompanied Her Aunt And Several Friends To Lake Placid,

Where They Established Themselves At A Hotel. How Welcome To Carley's

Strained Eyes Were The Green Of Mountains,  The Soft Gleam Of Amber Water!

How Sweet And Refreshing A Breath Of Cool Pure Air! The Change From New

York's Glare And Heat And Dirt,  And Iron-Red Insulating Walls,  And

Thronging Millions Of People,  And Ceaseless Roar And Rush,  Was Tremendously

Relieving To Carley. She Had Burned The Candle At Both Ends. But The Beauty

Of The Hills And Vales,  The Quiet Of The Forest,  The Sight Of The Stars,

Made It Harder To Forget. She Had To Rest. And When She Rested She Could

Not Always Converse,  Or Read,  Or Write.

For The Most Part Her Days Held Variety And Pleasure. The Place Was

Beautiful,  The Weather Pleasant,  The People Congenial. She Motored Over The

Forest Roads,  She Canoed Along The Margin Of The Lake,  She Played Golf And

Tennis. She Wore Exquisite Gowns To Dinner And Danced During The Evenings.

But She Seldom Walked Anywhere On The Trails And,  Never Alone,  And She

Never Climbed The Mountains And Never Rode A Horse.

Morrison Arrived And Added His Attentions To Those Of Other Men. Carley

Neither Accepted Nor Repelled Them. She Favored The Association With

Married Couples And Older People,  And Rather Shunned The Pairing Off

Peculiar To Vacationists At Summer Hotels. She Had Always Loved To Play And

Romp With Children,  But Here She Found Herself Growing To Avoid Them,

Somehow Hurt By Sound Of Pattering Feet And Joyous Laughter. She Filled The

Days As Best She Could,  And Usually Earned Quick Slumber At Night. She

Staked All On Present Occupation And The Truth Of Flying Time.

The Latter Part Of September Carley Returned To New York.

Soon After Her Arrival She Received By Letter A Formal Proposal Of Marriage

From Elbert Harrington,  Who Had Been Quietly Attentive To Her During Her

Sojourn At Lake Placid. He Was A Lawyer Of Distinction,  Somewhat Older Than

Most Of Her Friends,  And A Man Of Means And Fine Family. Carley Was Quite

Surprised. Harrington Was Really One Of The Few Of Her Acquaintances Whom

She Regarded As Somewhat Behind The Times,  And Liked Him The Better For

That. But She Could Not Marry Him,  And Replied To His Letter In As Kindly A

Manner As Possible. Then He Called Personally.

"Carley,  I've Come To Ask You To Reconsider," He Said,  With A Smile In His

Gray Eyes. He Was Not A Tall Or Handsome Man,  But He Had What Women Called

A Nice Strong Face.

"Elbert,  You Embarrass Me," She Replied,  Trying To Laugh It Out. "Indeed I

Feel Honored,  And I Thank You. But I Can't Marry You."

"Why Not?" He Asked,  Quietly.

"Because I Don't Love You," She Replied.

"I Did Not Expect You To," He Said. "I Hoped In Time You Might Come To

Care. I've Known You A Good Many Years,  Carley. Forgive Me If I Tell You I

See You Are Breaking--Wearing Yourself Down. Maybe It Is Not A Husband You

Need So Much Now,  But You Do Need A Home And Children. You Are Wasting Your

Life."

"All You Say May Be True,  My Friend," Replied Carley,  With A Helpless

Little Upflinging Of Hands. "Yet It Does Not Alter My Feelings."

"But You Will Marry Sooner Or Later?" He Queried,  Persistently.

This Straightforward Question Struck Carley As Singularly As If It Was One

She Might Never Have Encountered. It Forced Her To Think Of Things She Had

Buried.

"I Don't Believe I Ever Will," She Answered,  Thoughtfully.

"That Is Nonsense,  Carley," He Went On. "You'll Have To Marry. What Else

Can You Do? With All Due Respect To Your Feelings--That Affair With

Kilbourne Is Ended--And You're Not The Wishy-Washy Heartbreak Kind Of A

Girl."

"You Can Never Tell What A Woman Will Do," She Said,  Somewhat Coldly.

"Certainly Not. That's Why I Refuse To Take No. Carley,  Be Reasonable. You

Like Me--Respect Me,  Do You Not?"

"Why,  Of Course I Do!"

"I'm Only Thirty-Five,  And I Could Give You All Any Sensible Woman Wants,"

He Said. "Let's Make A Real American Home. Have You Thought At All About

That,  Carley? Something Is Wrong Today. Men Are Not Marrying. Wives Are Not

Having Children. Of All The Friends I Have,  Not One Has A Real American

Home. Why,  It Is A Terrible Fact! But,  Carley,  You Are Not A

Sentimentalist,  Or A Melancholiac. Nor Are You A Waster. You Have Fine

Qualities. You Need Something To Do,  Some One To Care For."

Pray Do Not Think Me Ungrateful,  Elbert," She Replied,  "Nor Insensible To

The Truth Of What You Say. But My Answer Is No!"

When Harrington Had Gone Carley Went To Her Room,  And Precisely As Upon Her

Return From Arizona She Faced Her Mirror Skeptically And Relentlessly. "I

Am Such A Liar That I'll Do Well To Look At Myself," She Meditated. "Here I

Am Again. Now! The World Expects Me To Marry. But What Do I Expect?"

There Was A Raw Unheated Wound In Carley's Heart. Seldom Had She Permitted

Herself To Think About It,  Let Alone To Probe It With Hard Materialistic

Queries. But Custom To Her Was As Inexorable As Life. If She Chose To Live

In The World She Must Conform To Its Customs. For A Woman Marriage Was The

Aim And The End And The All Of Existence. Nevertheless,  For Carley It Could

Not Be Without Love. Before She Had Gone West She Might Have Had Many Of

The Conventional Modern Ideas About Women And Marriage. But Because Out

There In The Wilds Her Love And Perception Had Broadened,  Now Her

Arraignment Of Herself And Her Sex Was Bigger,  Sterner,  More Exacting. The

Months She Had Been Home Seemed Fuller Than All The Months Of Her Life. She

Had Tried To Forget And Enjoy; She Had Not Succeeded; But She Had Looked

With Far-Seeing Eyes At Her World. Glenn Kilbourne's Tragic Fate Had Opened

Her Eyes.

Either The World Was All Wrong Or The People In It Were. But If That Were

An Extravagant And Erroneous Supposition,  There Certainly Was Proof

Positive