“It will be the same when we’ve been here six years, and I’m wasting time. I shall get away as soon as I can. Start the New Year afresh in town.”
“Pierce, oh don’t walk so fast. How can I keep up with you?”
“I beg your pardon.”
“That’s better. But, Pierce, dear,” she said, with an arch look; “don’t talk like that. You wouldn’t have the heart to go.”
“Indeed! But I will.”
“I know better, dear.”
“What do you mean?”
“You couldn’t go away now. Oh, Pierce, dear, she is sweet! I could love her so. There is something so beautiful and pathetic in her face as she sits there in church. Many a time I’ve felt the tears come into my eyes, and as if I could go across the little aisle and kiss her and call her sister.”
He turned round sharply and caught her by the arm, his eyes flashing with indignation.
“Jenny,” he cried, “are you mad?”