“Who?” Elizabeth asked, and then added, “What will he do for a room if I take this one?”
“I don’t know,” Aunt Susan replied to the last clause of the question. “The room is yours, anyhow. I’m so glad to have you back that I’d turn him out if need be. Honestly, we could hardly eat Saturday. Nate was as bad as I was. They’ve gone to Colebyville together to-day. I’m glad Nate’s got him—he’s lonesome enough these days.”
It was Elizabeth’s turn to cheer up Aunt Susan, for she always fell into a gloom when she mentioned Nathan. It took Elizabeth’s mind from her own affairs, and by the time the unpacking was finished the volatile spirits of youth had asserted themselves. They took a walk toward evening, and only returned in time to meet John Hunter, who had come to see his betrothed about a trip he had decided suddenly to take to Mitchell County. He had spoken of it to Elizabeth before, and had only waited to get his mother established and a desirable hired man to run the place in his absence. The man had come that day asking for work and giving good references and John had decided to go at once.
In the excitement of preparation John seemed to have forgotten the discomforts of the morning, and though he soon took his departure, he left Elizabeth less unhappy than she had been. Nathan and the new man were coming in the distance as John Hunter drove away, and the girl turned back into the kitchen to help with the supper.
“Lizzie Farnshaw! And you are the Elizabeth these folk have been talkin’ about? Well, I’ll be hornswoggled!”
Nathan and the new boarder had just come in.
“Is it really you, Luther?” Elizabeth asked, and there was no mistaking the glad tones.
They looked each other over for changes; they sat beside each other at the table, and Elizabeth asked questions and talked excitedly while he ate.
“Your hair is darker, and it’s curly,” she remarked, remembering the tow-coloured locks cut square across the boyish, sunburned neck.