Agnes laughed in reply. This nonsense was delightful. She understood it all, and could have wandered on the river’s bank forever listening to the merry chatter.
They went on in silence for a little time, then Parker asked abruptly, “Do you like books, Agnes?”
“I am very fond of them, but we never had many, and I have had no time to read since I came here, even if I had had anything to read. I picked up a book of yours one day, and I read a little. I liked it.”
“What was it?”
“One of the plays of Mr. Shakespeare.”
“I am glad you like to read,” he said thoughtfully; “we will have some pleasant times together, when the work is done, and in those long evenings—” He broke off with a start, a flush coming to his face. He laughed in an embarrassed sort of way. “I seem to forget that I am no longer a member of your household, don’t I? But I have a few books with me, and you can read them and tell me afterward what you think of them.”
“I shall like that when the winter comes, and we have such long evenings, but then comes the spinning, and all that, but I shall get some time, I hope. We should be in our own home by that time, don’t you think so?”
“I think you should be there before then if there’s any justice in the land, but I am shirking my duty. I must go and tell your mother that I don’t know anything about that will. Come, Agnes, and give me countenance.”
The will was still unaccounted for on the morning of Jeanie’s wedding-day, and Mrs. Kennedy felt an anxiety that she did not express, though Agnes was so absorbed in the exciting prospect of the day’s pleasure that she gave no thought to it. It was the ordinary custom for the bridal procession to form at the home of the groom’s father and from thence to escort him to the home of the bride, but David’s parents were not living, and the lad had his own home, so thither the guests repaired, only to find the house closed and barred. The men stared, the girls nudged each other. What was wrong? Had the groom deserted his lady-love? Was he playing a trick? Was he so shy that he had stolen a march upon them, and was now in advance of them making his way to Jeanie’s house? All these conjectures were fairly discussed, but there seemed to be no satisfactory solution.
“There hasn’t ben no weddin’ sence Dave come among us,” at last Jerry Hunter remarked, “and maybe he didn’t exactly understand our ways. I say we go on without him, and like as not we’ll find him there. We ain’t goin’ to break up the weddin’ on his account; it’s likely he thought he’d make the trip alone. Who see him last?”