A crowd of confused, scarcely remembered moments suddenly sprang into Jeannie’s mind. She looked like one awakened suddenly from sleep by a loud noise.
“Tell me,” she said.
Miss Fortescue shook her head.
“The thing is past,” she replied. “I have buried it.”
Again the wild bull’s-eye of the storm flashed through the window, and Miss Fortescue drew instinctively away. But Jeannie’s arm detained her.
“Do tell me,” she said again, “unless it would hurt you.”
“It would not hurt me,” said Miss Fortescue.
Jeannie suddenly stood up.
“What do you mean?” she said. “Is it possible that I guess, Aunt Em?”