John looked up as she entered the room, and Drusilla sat down in a chair and looked into the fire, as if seeing pictures there. John went on with his reading, but finally, seeing Drusilla looking at him intently, he spoke.
"What is it, Drusilla?"
Drusilla said softly: "John, do you remember when we used to walk down Willow Lane in the moonlight, and one night some of the neighbors saw your arm around me and they went to mother and said we was carryin' on and it ought to be put a stop to? Well, the neighbors say we are carryin' on again."
John closed the book in his hand.
"What do you mean, Drusilla?"
"The neighbors say we are carryin' on. They think that because you ain't a relation that's it's unconventional, them's her words, unconventional that you stay here."
A pained look came into kindly John's eyes.
"Why, Drusilla, I hadn't thought of that. Perhaps I'd better go."
Drusilla reached over and patted his hand.
"Just you set right still, John Brierly, and don't get excited. I ain't felt so young sence mother scolded me for walkin' out with you." She laughed a little happy laugh. "Why, it takes me back fifty years!"