"Oh, was it you?"
Dawn's face shone up at him out of the darkness, but he dared not interpret the look. The driver suddenly jumped up on the seat and started the horses on again, but Dawn clasped her hands close about his arm and clung to him in the darkness, her whole soul surging with gladness.
He held her arm close to him within his own, but his heart was beating anxiously to know what effect this would have upon her, and whether she remembered now. At last she ventured the question—for how could the driver attach any significance to such simple words:
"Are you sure?"
"Sure!" he answered gravely, and added as if he could not keep the words back: "Are you glad or sorry?"
"Oh, glad, glad!" instantly came the words, and then they said no more, but let the joy and the wonder of it sweep over them. They were both very young and very happy just then, and what are hows and whys to such as they?
The lights of the village grew closer, and beamed past them, and in a moment more, with a rattle and flourish, they drew up before the old Winthrop house, a beautiful colonial structure, with lights in all the windows and a festive air about it that made all the passengers in the coach look out and wonder. A shout of laughter, and, "Here they come!" was heard from the house, and Betty, in white, with blue ribbons all in a flutter, came flying down the path of light from the open door to greet them.
"I'll explain it all when we get by ourselves, dear," whispered Charles, leaning over her again, as if to see if she was leaving any baggage behind. "Don't worry. Just be happy."
"Oh, I will!" laughed Dawn joyously. "But how did it ever come to be true?" And then as she got down from the coach she was instantly smothered in Betty's open arms.
CHAPTER XV