“I am glad to see you.” Then he looked me all over with those strange eyes of his that could be so dark and piercing.
“Isn’t it late?” I asked. “I am sure supper must be ready. Please excuse me,” and I hurried on.
They turned as well. I rushed up-stairs, bathed my face and gave my hair a brush. Then I went to the glass a moment to pull it out. No, I was not a beauty. If Mr. Duncan had not come to-day! He could spend Sunday without starting as early as Friday afternoon!
When I went down they were all gathered around the table. He glanced up sharply again, and I was foolish enough to blush.
Not an unnecessary word did I utter. I had a constricted feeling about my throat and tongue and could not tell what was the matter with me, I believe I felt cross. I was glad to go to the study afterward and give papa the messages that had been sent for him.
Nelly called me to see about a skirt she was letting down. Tim and Lily put themselves to bed now, and I had only to go in and pick up their clothes. Fanny and Mr. Duncan were singing in the parlor, but I did not go down until I heard mamma’s voice. They were talking about Mrs. Whitcomb.
He had found her so admirable. Lady-like and refined, yet not weak; clear-eyed and resolute, yet without any hardness.
“She is always in bloom, I believe. The winter, and the desert, and the bare, bristling hill-tops may be a short distance off, but just around her it is spring.”
“There everlasting spring abides,
And never withering flowers;”—