Ruth was glad to be alone. She had passed through too much to be able to banish all trace of the storm. But though her eyes were red from recent tears, they were bright with anticipation. Sandy was coming back. That fact seemed to make everything right.
She leaned her chin on her palm and tried to still the beating of her heart. She knew he would come. Irresponsible, hot-headed,
impulsive as he was, he had never failed her. She glanced impatiently at the clock.
"Miss Rufe, was you ever in love?" It was black Rachel who broke in upon her thoughts. She was standing at the foot of the table, her round, good-humored face comically serious.
"No-yes. Why, Rachel?" stammered Ruth.
"I was just axin'," said Rachel, "'cause if you been in love, you'd know how to read a love-letter, wouldn't you, Miss Rufe?"
Ruth smiled and nodded.
"I got one from my beau," went on Rachel, in great embarrassment; "but dat nigger knows I can't read."
"Where does he live?" asked Ruth.
"Up in Injianapolis. He drives de hearse."