“I knew it!” he exclaimed, emphatically and involuntarily.
“Knew what? knew me?” she inquired, pleasantly. “Of course you did. Why should you not? It has been but two years since we met. And I knew YOU at a glance.”
“Very likely; for an old fellow like myself does not change in two years, while a young lady like you grows up and gets married in the meantime, which makes some little difference,” answered Dick, archly, partly to cover his confusion at having spoken his thoughts aloud, and partly to procure her confirmation of what he firmly believed—namely, that she truly or falsely imagined herself to be a wife.
“Oh, yes,” she replied, still blushing and smiling, “I am married; and as you know that fact, which you could have learned only from my husband, of course you come from him. He is well?” she inquired, anxiety now betraying itself in her look and tone.
“Quite well,” said Dick, who was now beginning to feel the embarrassment of the duty he had taken upon himself to do.
“And you bring me a letter from him? I have been looking for one by the mail; but I am glad he sent it by you?”
Dick hesitated and looked confused.
“Give me my letter, please,” she said, holding out her hand with a smile.
“My dear Mrs. Lyon, I regret to say I have no letter for you,” he answered, as calmly as he could.
“No letter!” she repeated, with a look of disappointment; and she sank down in the garden seat, because from excess of emotion she was unable to stand. Then, soon brightening up with new hope, she exclaimed—“Oh, then, he has charged you with a message for me! Sit down here and tell me all he says.”