"You will find that and more in the next chapter," Alice replied.
And the reading was resumed.
The angry, threatening clouds had massed themselves once more; the thunder roared; the lightning flashed and the rain fell in torrents.
Leopold walked to the window and looked out. "Walking is out of the question," said he; "will you come for a sail?"
Music filled the evening, and during a lull in the storm the young men reached their lodgings.
Another month had nearly passed. The weather was much warmer, but there was a great incentive to hard work—the book was nearly finished. Quincy had sent down a package of books soon after his return home, and Alice and Rosa had worked even harder than in June.
Another letter went from Miss Very to Mr. Sawyer. It contained but a few words: "The book is done. Miss Pettengill herself wrote the words, 'The end,' on the last page, signed her name, and dated it 'July 30, 186—.' She awaits your verdict."
The first Sunday in August found the young ladies again expectant. Once more they sat on a Sunday morning awaiting the advent of their gentlemen friends. The day was pleasant, but warm. Soon a voice was heard at the front door. Both ladies listened intently; but one person, evidently, was coming upstairs. Alice thought it must be Mr. Sawyer, while Rosa said to herself, "I think it must be Mr. Ernst."
A light knock, the door was opened and Quincy entered.