“GOD MADE YOU MINE”
“I haven’t seen any papers for three days, Molly. What’s become of them all?”
Theodore and Molly were sitting in the waning sunshine, the many-colored autumn leaves drifting silently past them to form a varied carpet over the grass.
All fear had now left the woman. She had Jinnie’s promise not to see Theodore, and he had apparently forgotten there ever was such a girl in the world.
“I’d really like to see the papers,” repeated Theodore. “Dear me, how glad I am to be so well!”
“We’re all glad,” whispered Molly, with bright eyes.
She had kept the papers from him purposely, playfully pretending she would rather give him an account of the court proceedings. When she described how another man had confessed to the shooting, Theodore felt a glad thrill that the cobbler was exonerated. Later Molly decided she would tell him about Morse, but never that she had married him. It was she who suggested, after a time of silence:
“Theodore, don’t you think a little trip would do us all good? Your mother’s been so worried over you––”
“Where would we go?” he asked, without interest.
“Anywhere to get away from Bellaire for a season.”