Night and Day ~ Part Three

Franz had been walking along the side of the road for a few minutes when he heard the voices of two ladies down by the creek, one of which sounded like Isabelle. He stopped and turned to face the creek, just in time to see Isabelle running up towards the road through the trees along the water's edge. He smiled at her as she came to the clearing at the side of the road and started laughing when she almost dropped her basket in surprise at seeing him.

"Good morning, Isabelle," Franz said, "what brings you out so early on this beautiful spring day?"

Walking over to Franz, she gave him a bear hug, then took his arm and turned towards the creek.

"My uncle was kind enough to give me the day off since I have been working so hard lately, and my friend Melinda persuaded me to go for a ride with her."

Melinda saw the couple arm in arm, walking towards her as she stepped out into the clearing. "They look so happy together," she thought to herself as her mind flooded with memories of when she and her dear Anthony had been courting in New York. She remembered the time when they had walked arm in arm to a park in the city one night and danced around the fountains.

"Melinda, this is Franz Bhaer," Isabelle's voice woke Melinda from her reminiscing trance, "Franz, this is my friend Melinda O'Neil."

Franz and Melinda exchanged greetings, after which Melinda looked at her friend.

"Isabelle," she said, "where shall I lay the blanket for our picnic?"

"Over by that tree looks nice," Isabelle pointed at a large, shady elm at the edge of the clearing, then turning to Franz, added, "Franz, would you like to join us?"

A smile crept across his lips and his eyes brightened, but then he noticed a slightly disappointed look on Melinda's face.

"Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude. Besides, I need to get back to my students. I took them on a sort of field trip this morning to study the biological aspects of the creek."

Then, squeezing her hand gently, he gave her a kiss on the cheek, and waving farewell, started walking down the road in the direction he came from.

Once Franz had disappeared from view, Isabelle sighed and walked over to the tree where Melinda was spreading out the blanket. Sitting on the blanket, she removed the contents of the basket and set them down; then proceeded to pour some juice onto one of the plates.

"Isabelle!" Melinda exclaimed, causing her friend to break out of her trance and spill the plate of juice all over the front of Melinda's dress.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Isabelle said as she reached into the basket for a towel and handed it to Melinda.

"It's quite alright, dear," Melinda said, laughing a little over the mishap, "I was the same way, when I was is love."

At this, a wave of sorrow overcame her and she turned her head away, looking down at the little ring on her finger.

After a moment, Isabelle put a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder and said softly, "Melinda, what's wrong? You've been acting strangely ever since we walked down the stairs back at the hotel."

Melinda looked back at her friend, and wiped the tears from her eyes. She swallowed hard before starting to speak.

"I haven't told many people about this, but I feel I can trust you with my secret," Melinda straightened herself up, sighed, and continued, "About four years ago, while I was attending dance school in New York to become a dance instructor, I met a man named Anthony. He was a poor writer from the country trying to publish a book he had written. One afternoon while I was on my way back home from dance classes, he literally ran into me while coming around a corner, causing me to fall and hurt my ankle. He was so sorry that for the next week he came to visit me every day, to see how I was doing. Some days we would bring me flowers, others he would bring his cherished book of Shakespeare and read to me. When he came one moring the following week, he found that I was gone; my ankle had healed and I was back to taking classes again. That afternoon when I returned home, I found him talking to my parents, and he asked me if I would accompany him to the ballet that night to celebrate his getting his book published."

Sighing, Isabelle exclaimed, "Oh, that's so romantic!" then sat leaning forward with her head in her hands as Melinda continued.

"We had been courting for over a year when he asked me to marry him. He didn't have much money because he had spent all of his earnings from his book on gifts for me. So he bought me this little silver ring." She showed Isabelle the ring; a simple band, worn away by the passage of time.

"A few months later, my parents both died from scarlet fever. Anthony was there to comfort me, but after a few weeks, I had to put an end to my dance classes so that my father's debts could be paid. One night, Anthony told me that he could not marry me any more, for between the two of us, we had very little money. I assured him that I didn't care if we were poor, that I would be the happiest woman alive, just knowing that he loved me."

Melinda started to cry again, and stopped her sobs long enough to finish her story.

"The next day, I found a letter on my doorstep from him, saying that he was leaving and would not return until he had enough money to give me the kind of life I deserved. I ran down to the train station just in time to see his sad face in the window of the train as it pulled away from the station. That's the last time I ever saw him."

Isabelle reached out and embraced her friend, "Oh, you poor thing," she said, then backed up and looked at Melinda's face as she dried the few remaining tears, "Don't you worry. Your Anthony will come back for you someday. And if he doesn't, there are plenty of wonderful men out there who would consider themselves lucky to court you!"

Melinda smiled and gave her friend a hug, after which the two ladies ate their picnic breakfast and rode up the street to where Franz, Jo, and Nick were sitting. Isabelle stopped and got off Belle, motioning for Melinda to do the same. Melinda looked at Isabelle questioningly as she pulled sage to a stop and dismounted.

"Why is she doing this?" Melinda thought to herself, then realized that her friend was probably just trying to help brighten her mood.

Walking up to the group, Isabelle said, "Jo, Nick, I would like you to meet a good friend of mine, Miss Melinda O'Neil."

Melinda ran her fingers through her curly red hair and smiled, wondering if her green eyes were still puffy from her crying. Part Four