"I'll tell her all about it," said her friend. "I'll tell her you're a dear still, only more so. She'll understand. Good-by, Bina."
When his carriage had left the gate, and Clelia came in with that last look of her lover still mirrored in her eyes, Sabrina lay there floating in her sea of happiness.
"Why, dear," said the girl, drawing the sheet down from the hidden finery. "You cold?"
"I guess not," said Sabrina, smiling up at her.
"Did you keep that pretty lace all covered up? What made you, Sabrina?"
"I don't know 's I could tell exactly," said Sabrina, in her gentle voice. "Now, dear, I'm goin' to get this off an' have my clo'es. I'm better."
"You do feel better, don't you?" assented Clelia joyously, helping her.
That night they supped together at the table, and when the dusk had fallen and Sabrina sat by the window breathing in the evening cool, she said shyly, like a bride:—
"Don't you see, dear, sometimes we put off grief an' we don't need to have it after all."
"I see about me," said the girl tenderly, "but I don't see as anything pleasant has happened to you."