"Hallam!"
"Do you suppose I wouldn't if I could?"
"Hal, do you ever try?"
He looked at her indignantly; then he reflected that, in fact, he never did try. But to convince her he made an effort that instant. Tossing his crutches to the ground, he tried to force his limbs forward over the ground. They utterly failed to respond to his will, and he would have fallen had not Amy's arms caught and supported him.
"There, you see!"
"For the first attempt it was fine. Bravo! Encore!"
Yet she picked up his "other legs" and gave him, then led Balaam away from the late thistle blooms he was browsing. Hallam mounted, crossed his crutches before him, and lifted his cap. Amy tossed him a kiss and turned millward, while he ascended the hill road. But no sooner was she out of sight than her assumed cheerfulness gave way, and for a time it was a sad-faced girl who trudged diligently onward toward duty and a life of toil.
Gwendolyn had delivered her message, and the superintendent welcomed Amy to his office at the mill with a friendly nod and smile; but, at that moment, he was deep in business with a strange gentleman, negotiating for a large sale of carpets, and after his brief greeting he apparently forgot the girl. She remained standing for some moments, then Mr. Metcalf beckoned an attendant to give her a chair and the day's newspaper.
Her heart sank even lower than before. The superintendent appeared a different person from the friend she had met in his own home. Her throat choked. She felt that she should cry, if she did not make some desperate effort to the contrary; so she began to read the paper diligently, though her mind scarcely followed the words she saw, and would deflect to those she heard, which were very earnest, indeed, though all about a matter no greater than one-eighth cent per yard.
"How queer! Two great grown men to stand there and argue about such a trifle. Why, there isn't any such coin, and what does it mean? Well, I'm eavesdropping, and that's wrong. Now I will read. I will not listen."