The summer and another winter passed and between the farm and the Kloster there was no communication. Ellen saw Matthew and Millie walking together, and hid by the roadside or turned back. There drifted to Levis's ears a report that Matthew wished to marry, but that Millie's father was obdurate. Millie should not marry a penniless man, the two must wait; when Matthew's prospects improved, then marriage might be discussed. He had, it was reported, spoken his mind plainly.
"You should have stayed in the nest. What if you couldn't go to meeting for a while? You are now near twenty-one and then you can do as you choose. You should have consulted with some one."
Ellen had little idea of what college would be like, and still less of what life would be like, but she knew that they must be glorious and she longed intensely for both experiences. The second summer of preparation passed slowly. She was sure that much was happening elsewhere and she knew that little was happening to her.
One Sunday afternoon she went to sit on her favorite stump in the woodland. Before starting she looked at herself in the mirror, at her curls and rosy cheeks, made redder by a reflection from her scarlet tie. She held up her hands and saw with satisfaction that they were whiter than any other hands she knew.
Her inspection had the result which usually follows the self-inspection of seventeen—she wished that there was some one at hand to admire. Perhaps in the woods she would meet a stranger! There she could at least dream of meeting one.
She had been established on the stump for an hour, now reading, now sitting idly, her chin in her hands, when, lifting her head, she observed that the farmhouse was about to receive an unusual visitation. Since the house stood near the main road, she saw daily the cars of tourists who were starting across the country, or who journeyed to Gettysburg or Pittsburgh. Once, sitting on the fence, she had talked to several elegant ladies who walked about while a tire was being repaired.
Now a car, more beautiful than any she had ever seen, was turning up the lane and approaching the farmhouse. Its passengers had come, no doubt, to ask for some small favor, and she, alas, was not there to wait upon them! A month ago she would have run, now she descended in as rapid a walk as dignity would permit.
To her astonishment she found when she reached the porch that the occupants of the car, except the driver, had gone into the house. Curious as she was, she was seized with sudden shyness and wished herself back under the trees. But in plain view as she was from the office windows there was nothing to do but to proceed.
Her father appeared at the office door, his face flushed and smiling. Stephen Lanfair, halting for a moment at his gate, had seen his name on the letter box and had come in with his wife. He had passed unknowing, he said, many times. Levis's heart throbbed so that he had to draw deep breaths of air. Stephen was the old Stephen; his renewal of their friendship seemed to make possible all he had dreamed. Mrs. Lanfair's presence suggested the solution of another problem which had troubled him. Ellen needed associations and opportunities which he did not know how to give her; Mrs. Lanfair might help him to provide them.
"Oh, Ellen, come here," he said, not without pride. "I was just going to find you!"