CHAPTER XXIV.
THE OLD AND THE NEW.
Primrose Henry put on her camlet cloak and took several skeins of yarn to one of the old ladies in the almshouses, to knit some stockings for some other poor. Afterward she sauntered round with a guilty feeling. She often ran in to see Phil and Andrew, and the one clerk always stared at the radiant vision. She hesitated on the broad sill, then she opened the door. There was a sort of counting room first, and that was vacant now. Andrew was in the apartment beyond.
There was her promise to Rachel. Oh, what must she do!
"Philemon has gone," and Andrew glanced up with tender gravity as he espied Primrose.
"Yes. I saw him. How is Aunt Lois, and Faith?"
"Very well." There was a different smile, now, a sense of amusement, and a peculiar light in the eyes like relief.
"What is it?" Her heart-beat almost strangled her.
"Rachel was in this morning. And you cannot guess—she is to be married presently."