“But you’re not going to part like this?”
I should have liked to part in a very different fashion could I have had my way. But I could not.
“Father Ambrose thinks that I had better go; and of course he is right.”
“But Bob and Peggy haven’t said good-bye. Oh, think of all we’ve gone through together. Don’t go away angry with me like this.”
“Angry! God forbid. Why you’re just the bravest little soul I ever met in all my life. And some day I hope Sylvia and you will meet, and—and——” I scarcely knew what I was saying and ended in partial incoherence.
“That’s more like you. I mean it’s more natural, except that you generally know exactly what you want to say and say it. Are you going to—to England?”
“I don’t think I have any definite plans. I——”
Her laughter stopped me. She shook her forefinger with laughing assumption of gravity. “If I had not ceased to be Peggy, I should say you were hiding something from me. And you know how true Peggy’s instincts are?”
“What should I have to hide?” I asked with a smile.
“What a mask of a smile,” she cried, with a lifting of the hands. “Father Ambrose is a wonderful man; he has changed you completely in an hour.” She turned back to the table and sat down again. “I suppose it couldn’t be helped,” she added half to herself with a sigh.