“He won’t even say ‘Nevermore’,” I remarked.
“He has more sense,” replied Lettie. She looked a trifle lugubrious. Then she continued: “Better say ‘Nevermore’ than ‘Evermore.’”
“Why?” I asked.
“Oh, I don’t know. Fancy this ‘Evermore.’”
She had been sure in her own soul that Leslie would come—now she began to doubt:—things were very perplexing.
The bell in the kitchen jangled; she jumped up. I went and opened the door. He came in. She gave him one bright look of satisfaction. He saw it, and understood.
“Helen has got some people over—I have been awfully rude to leave them now,” he said quietly.
“What a dreadful day!” said mother.
“Oh, fearful! Your face is red, Lettie! What have you been doing?”
“Looking into the fire.”