“Perhaps he has left his disagreeable qualities in the Adirondacks.”
“I hope so.” Polly’s eyes went troubled. “Nita,” she accused, “you think I ought to let David come back! You know, there was never any engagement. And he’s been away from me all summer—without a word.”
“There can be no obligation about it—if you are sure of your own heart—” she paused.
“I am sure,” Polly reiterated, with a flutter of red upon her cheeks.
Juanita Randolph watched her as she bent towards her work.
“I am thankful,” the girl resumed, “that I refused to make any promise for life. A girl of thirteen is too young to know her own mind, much less her own heart.”
“You are right,” replied the other. “A girl of that age rarely knows what love is.”
“I didn’t know,” Polly said with emphasis.
After a moment Mrs. Randolph spoke again.
“I wonder if David is waiting for me to go.”