"Meet me in the pines tomorrow noon, Tim," said De Vere as he left him, wearing a worried look—almost one of fear.
Aside from these troubles, Matthew was far from happy. He had tried to learn the cause of Nellie's manner toward him the last time he saw her at school. He could not understand what had brought about the change in her.
He had not seen her for nearly a week, for she was at home sick. She took a severe cold on the night of the fire by exposure to the damp, chilly air, and had not been able to come out since. Matthew called at the doctor's to offer her his sympathy, but she would not see him. He learned from his sister, who had called every day that Nellie was up and around the house, and from this fact he argued that she shunned him.
Fred really expected no reply to his letter to Nellie, and yet he hoped almost against hope, as it seemed to him, that she might acknowledge its receipt in some way. If only a word, and that one of criticism, he felt that it would be much more welcome than nothing.
Little did he realize how near he came to receiving the coveted letter, for it was actually written, and was one that would have given him great pleasure.
Nellie wrote the letter in the evening before the fire, and intended mailing it the next morning; but when morning came she found herself too ill to leave the house.
Two days passed; then came the report of Fred's arrest. The news made her cheeks burn. She condemned herself for having written the letter, and while the shock was fresh upon her she destroyed it. And as it lay in the waste basket, torn into little pieces, she looked at it and felt almost sorry she had been so hasty; even wished, though she hardly dared acknowledge it to herself, that he had the letter, guilty or not.
She took his note from her pocket and read it again; then buried her face in her hands in deep thought.
She was interrupted by Grace Bernard, who ran in to spend a little time with her.
"Oh, isn't it good news?" she exclaimed, in her animated, girlish way.