"Yes, dear, I know. I saw it in both your faces when I came across the bridge. I don't mind—I think it's better so. Truly, I do."
"Oh, Alva—" the young girl's tone was full of feeling.
"But you mustn't tell him Hannah Adele's love affair," Alva went on, smiling; "remember that, my dear."
"I promise. Now tell me all about it." Lassie drew close, her face full of eager curiosity mixed with content over being pardoned so simply.
"It's just like a story," Alva said, thoughtfully; "it's more wonderful—almost—than my own. I never heard anything quite so wonderfully story-like before. Tell me, did you notice at supper how Mrs. Lathbun watched every one that came off of the train? She can see the station through the window from where she sits, you know."
"No, I didn't notice. Does it matter?"
"Oh, no; only I used to notice it and now I know why she does it."
"Is she looking for the lover?"
"She's afraid of him, dear."
"Afraid!"