CHAPTER VIII. THE HEDGE
Strange, strange, how small the big world is!
“Why didn't you come right into the house?” the sturdy farmer had asked me when I came out of the meadow where I had spent the night under the stars.
“Well,” I said, turning the question as adroitly as I could, “I'll make it up by going into the house now.”
So I went with him into his fine, comfortable house.
“This is my wife,” said he.
A woman stood there facing me. “Oh!” she exclaimed, “Mr. Grayson!”
I recalled swiftly a child—a child she seemed then—with braids down her back, whom I had known when I first came to my farm. She had grown up, married, and had borne three children, while I had been looking the other way for a minute or two. She had not been in our neighborhood for several years.
“And how is your sister and Doctor McAlway?”
Well, we had quite a wonderful visit, she made breakfast for me, asking and talking eagerly as I ate.