"I fear it is in mine," he said. "The summer has been a very bitter-sweet one to me. I am glad it is done."
"It is you who are sad," she said, bravely smiling. "You look at me through colored glasses. I am gay as a lark."
"I wish I believed it," he returned.
The pain of a boy's first love, although less fleeting than the bliss, is fortunately also transient. His love and regret were very real to Hazard. He was conscious that Patty did not love him; but he believed that his boyish passion would be eternal, and life for him henceforth only desolation. That we shall some day smile at a fancy makes the present pain none the less poignant.
"You will come back at Christmas, won't you?" Patty said, wishing to divert the conversation.
"No, I think not; but, if I do, I hope you won't look as solemn as you do now."
"Solemn? Nonsense! I'm as merry as a cricket. Where is your brother to-day?"
"He rode over to Samoset with uncle Tom this morning. They won't be back till evening."
After her caller had gone, Patty turned back into the parlor, and looked at her face in the glass.
"I do look like Death's second wife," she soliloquized. "If I could only have a tremendous cry, and get over it, I might feel better, I suppose; but I can't: so there's an end of it. I'll go and see that wretched old Peter instead. I think I shall eventually go as a missionary, and nurse sick cannibals until they get well enough to cook and eat me. Heigh-ho! What a wretched old Peter it is, to be sure! At least I'm thankful to him for giving me something to do. Poor Hazard, I wish I were half as good as he is! Patty Sanford, you are a fool! Go and see that dilapidated Mixon this minute!"