Sara soon joined them, and a little later, Preston Garth,—who was back in town for a day or so, to assist in setting up some new apparatus lately arrived at the laboratory,—strolled up the walk.
"You're too late!" exclaimed Molly saucily, as he dropped upon the upper step, and began fanning himself vigorously with his hat; "Morton's eaten up all the muffins, and I think Sara finished the peaches."
"And I suppose, as usual, Miss Molly had nothing," was the ironic reply.
"Oh, a trifle—not worth mentioning"—
"Yes, Molly has a starved appearance, as you may have observed," put in Sara. "But, Mr. Garth, in spite of her discouraging remarks, I think we could find"—
"Oh, thank you, Miss Olmstead—I have been to tea; just left the table, in fact, and am on my way back to the museum, so dropped in here. Has anybody noticed the sunset to-night?" All turned to observe it (the house fronted towards the south), and simultaneously exclaimed at its grandeur. The sun was just dropping behind a thunderous bank of clouds, closely resembling a range of mountains capped with snow, now tinged ruddily with the dying light, and between these crowding peaks was an arched opening, as if a vaulted passageway had been blasted through the mass of rock, giving a vista of pale blue sky, from which radiated prismic bars of light, while way above the topmost peak, like some beacon-light suspended high, swung the new moon, a slender crescent, also near its setting.
"Oh, I saw it over my right shoulder!" cried Molly gayly. "Don't you long to hear what wish I made?"
"Not half so much as you long to tell it," replied Morton cruelly.
"How snubbed I feel!" she sniffed, amid the laughter, making a face at him. "But if you knew it included you—Mr. Garth, do you believe in omens?"
"Really, Miss Molly, I never thought—in fact, I don't know of any, do
I? What omens?"