Except for the occasional errand, Marian Paroo's path through River City had always been one of unending repetition – from home to library in the morning, then home for lunch and to help Mama with chores, then back to the library until late in the evening, then home again. She knew every crack and cranny of the street connecting the two buildings. As she put one foot in front of the other, she sometimes fancied she could see a rut in the pavement – a rut that deepened each time she made the journey, each time another year passed. And she was fated to walk back and forth in that rut until she died.
But one night, a handsome stranger had boldly stepped in front of her, making her alter her course. And then gradually, as she let more light and laughter into her heart, the rut in the road disappeared. Marian's travels had broadened to include many places – the Candy Kitchen, the gymnasium, the homes of friends and acquaintances. Everywhere she went, she was conscious of the thrilling possibility that Professor Hill was likely to be out and about as well, and that their paths might cross.
Marian Paroo never would have believed it possible, but she was in love with Harold Hill. Professor Hill had been in River City for almost a month, and he was still same charming, deceitful, fast-talking, woman-chasing salesman that he had been when he had stepped off the train. But the things he had accomplished! Single-handedly, he had gotten the school board to patch up a feud that was so old no one could say exactly how or why it began, saved Tommy Djilas from a life of aimless dissolution by channeling his considerable energy and talents into more constructive pursuits, and given every child – especially her dear brother Winthrop – something to hope and dream and get excited about.
And Harold showed Marian how truly lonely she had been. When she and her family had moved to River City, Marian had gotten off on the wrong foot with her peers, and never recovered. So she eked out a solitary existence on the edge of the crowd. When the other women snubbed and looked down upon her, she had buried her hurt feelings, telling herself they weren't worth associating with, anyway. She had almost believed this – until Harold Hill came to town. Undoubtedly, he received the same cool reception as she had, but he never let that discourage him. In that adroit way of his, he had turned the taciturn, aloof River City-ziens into friends and allies. Harold Hill, with his irrepressible charm and enthusiasm for living, had reminded her how empty her own existence was. Perhaps that was why she had loathed him so much at first.
But Marian could no longer hate Harold when she saw Winthrop's unrestrained delight over his brand-new cornet. Thanks to Professor Hill, her brother not only relinquished the depression he had stubbornly clung to since Papa died, he also overcame his self-consciousness about his lisp. These days, Winthrop prattled along as merrily as any other child.
Marian had been able to dismiss the change Harold had wrought in the cantankerous school board, the suspicious Mrs. Shinn and her ladies, and the mischievous Tommy Djilas, but she could not ignore Winthrop's transformation. She finally had to admit what that little nagging voice had been trying to tell her since the night Harold stirred things up in her library – even if he was an impostor, a man who could leave that much happiness in his wake had to have some good in him. Heeding her mother's advice, Marian had gone to the Candy Kitchen to have a conversation with Harold. She hadn't meant to be such a shrinking violet when he greeted her, but having abandoned her tendency to make cutting remarks, she no longer knew how she should behave around him.
But after the flurry and fuss caused by Mayor Shinn died down, Marian had discovered the ease and delight of conversing with Professor Hill. He was intelligent, well read, and had a wonderfully playful sense of humor – as he had demonstrated by turning one of Shakespeare's famous quotes into a charming little jest. When Harold had asked for permission to call on her, she realized that he was the man she had been waiting for, the "him I could love 'till I die."
It was a shame Marian could never tell Harold these things. Even though she allowed herself the luxury of daydreams in which she confessed her feelings, she was not foolish enough to hope they were reciprocated. Certainly, Harold was attracted to her – as evidenced by the great lengths to which he had gone to gain her friendship – but love was too much to ask of a traveling salesman. Harold would eventually leave River City, just as sure as the long, lovely summer days would fade into the dark, bitter cold of winter.
But Marian knew that even after he had gone, the positive impact he had made on her life would remain. Thanks to Harold, Mrs. Shinn and her circle overcame their horror of Chaucer, Rabelais and Balzac, and were now enthusiastic library patrons. He had also somehow managed to banish the specter of Marian's association with the late Mr. Madison from the townspeople's minds – they greeted her with warm smiles instead of suspicious looks. In the past, when Marian's expertise in literature or music was required for some activity, she was grudgingly asked to lend her participation and shunted to the side when they no longer required her services. But now, so many entreaties to help plan events and join committees were pouring in that she actually had to decline some of these invitations. While Marian would miss Professor Hill, she would always remember the joy and bustle he had brought to her once humdrum days.
As Marian contemplated a future without Harold in it, she felt a sudden, acute pang of distress – which she promptly muzzled. She mustn't think about such things now. Professor Hill was still in town, and he was sure to call on her that very evening. Marian's dearest memories of him were yet to be made, and she resolved to enjoy things while they lasted, to savor each exquisite moment with him until he boarded his train out of town. After all, it was lovely to be in love again – even if there was still no one in love with her.