“Nor I. And those two quaint old ladies were a whole show themselves.”
“Oh, this storm isn’t going to be so very bad,” Herron said; “I think it’s lessening now. We’ll go down this afternoon, all right, all right. I think, Miss Fairfield, you’re anxious to get a letter from somebody!”
Patty blushed prettily. “Well, perhaps I am. I came away before mailtime, you know.”
“But you had one yesterday,” Helen told, “a big, fat one! That ought to last you for a while!”
“But that was yesterday! I want today’s bulletin.”
“Aha! A letter every day?”
“Yes, Mr. Herron, that’s the way engaged people keep alive, when separated by this cruel war!”
“Never mind letters now,” begged Van Reypen, “let’s forget everybody who isn’t here.”
“And are you engaged to a soldier, my child?” Mrs. Doremus asked of Patty. The old lady had a low, gentle voice, and though she said little, she had a delightful manner and a smile that betokened a keen sense of humour.
“Yes, to Captain Farnsworth; but he isn’t exactly a soldier. I mean, he doesn’t expect to fight. He is an expert mining engineer, and his country seems to find a lot of work for him, without sending him to the front.”