|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 90
"Toby will miss you," said Hannah. "And so will I. And so will Hughie
and Hetty." She cleared her throat. "As for Mr. O'Neill, Toby won't
be likely to miss him at all. He's stepped too many inches off his
tail. Hughie thinks it must be paralyzed. I never saw Mr. O'Neill
headin' for a new dot but what I knew Toby would be sure to stick his
tail in the way and start a row."
Joan's face clouded.
"Oh, Hannah, if only I knew where Donald is!"
Hannah sighed.
"I wish you did, dear."
"It seems so dreadful with Uncle gone and everything changed. And
Donald doesn't even know. Think, Hannah, I may pass him in the train."
"You may," said Hannah. "And then again you mayn't."
"What if he comes home? What if he writes? It seems that I just
should be here."
"If he writes, I'll send the letter. And if he comes, Hughie can ride
down and telegraph you word."
"It's snowing," exclaimed Joan at the kitchen window. "Harder and
harder. Oh, Hannah, if it keeps up we shan't be able to go to Briston
to-morrow for my suit."
"We'll go in the sleigh. Hughie spoke of it at breakfast."
"A brown suit," mused Joan with shining eyes. "A brown hat and furs!
Think, Hannah! _Furs_! I do hope I shall look well in them."
"Mr. O'Neill said you would and he ought to know."
Joan laughed and blushed.
At twilight the next night she came home dressed warmly in furs and a
suit the color of her eyes.
"She would wear it home, Mr. O'Neill," whispered Hannah on ahead. "And
all, I think, to surprise you."
Often afterward Kenny remembered her there in the half twilight of the
kitchen, joyously crying out his name. There had been a glimmer of
shining tin, a halo of light from the tilted stove-lids, purple at the
window panes and beyond snow and the distant tinkle of sleighbells in
the barn. Hetty, he remembered, had lighted the kitchen lamp and
gasped. A lovely child, proud and mischievous! Her youth startled him.
In a week she was ready and eager to go but the day of farewell found
her clinging to Hannah in a panic.
When at last the old Craig carriage creaked slowly away down the lane
with Hannah and Hetty waving from the farm-porch, the spirit of
adventure flickered forlornly out and left her sobbing.
"Good-bye, Hannah dear!" she called, her eyes wet and wistful.
"Good-bye, Hetty! And--and don't forget to write me _all_ the news!
And don't let Toby catch the birds!"
Hughie, blinking and upset, stared straight ahead at Nellie's ears.
Kenny sobered. How great his trust! Hannah, waving her apron back
there and wiping her eyes, trusted him. And so did Hughie and Joan and
even perhaps old Adam Craig; and Mr. Abbott whose gentle grilling he
had endured with merely surface patience.
"Don't cry, Joan, please!" he begged, understanding how dear familiar
things are apt to loom in the pain of separation. And then with her
hand to his lips, he pledged himself to make her happiness the religion
of his love. It was a pledge he was destined to keep inviolate.
Ordinarily to Kenny, impatient in intervals of discomfort and delay,
the trip with its rural junctions and branch roads would have been
interminable torture. But to-day, with Joan's eyes, wide, dark,
intent, he chose to marvel with her.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|