CHAPTER X
YOUNG LOVE
ROLAND said nothing to his people of Mr. Marston’s conversation with Gerald. He disliked scenes and an atmosphere of expectation. When everything was settled finally he would tell them, but he would not risk the exposure of his hope to the chill of disappointment. He could not, however, resist the temptation to confide in April. She was young; she could share his failures as his successes. Life was before them both.
No sooner had he turned the corner of the road than he saw the door of the Curtises’ house open. April was in the porch waiting for him. “She must have been looking for me,” he thought. “Sitting in the window-seat, hoping that I would come.” His pride as well as his affection was touched by this clear proof of her interest in him.
“Well?” she said.
“I made a duck,” he answered; and his vanity noted that her brown eyes clouded suddenly with disappointment. “But that was only in the first innings,” he added.
“Oh, you pig!” she said, “and I thought that after all it had come to nothing.”
Roland laughed at the quick change to relief.
“But how do you know that I did do anything in the second innings?”
“You must have.”
“But why?”