"You should not stand in the night wind, dear," Dan chided, gently kissing her. "There! now, I have come for a good chat. Teola, do not look so sad—please."
The little drawing-room in the Rectory was partially dark when they seated themselves on the divan.
"I am so unhappy Dan; so different from what I used to be. Then, life was sweet and I was glad to live—"
"But you don't want to be dead now, sweetheart!—Think of it, Teola. When I shall have finished college, I shall be of age. We will go away from Ithaca, and no one will ever know—"
"But we shall know, Dan. If I had only been a good girl!"
Dan was visibly moved.
"Let's make a bargain," said he suddenly. "To-night we won't talk of anything but the pleasantest of things. I have something funny to tell you."
"I have something to tell you, too," breathed Teola.
"Is it pleasant?" demanded the boy, bending and forcing the lowered eyes to his.