“God bless you, Amy!” she added, with so much earnestness that Amy looked surprised.
“I am very glad,” said Hope, frankly.
“Why, what do you know about it?” asked Amy.
“Do you think I am blind?” said Hope.
“No; but no eyes could see it, it was so hidden.”
“It can’t be hidden,” said Hope, earnestly.
Amy stopped, looked inquiringly at her friend, and blushed—wondering what she meant.
“Come, Hope, at least we are hiding from each other. I came to ask you to a family festival.”
“I am ready,” answered Hope, with an air of quiet knowledge, and not at all surprised. Amy Waring was confused, she hardly knew why.
“Why, Hope, I mean only that Lawrence Newt—”