"I'm all right—you were a dear to let me sleep. See how fresh I am."
"You do look pearter, child—but you look different from when you came. My suz! you looked so excited and kind of young when I opened that door, it give me a start for a minute—I thought I'd woke out of a dream and you was a Miss in short skirts again. But now— let me see you closer." She came around the table, then continued: "Well, you look fresh and sweet and some rested, and you look old and reasonable again— I mean as old as you had ought to look. I never did know you to act that way before, child. My neck ain't got the crick out of it yet."
"Poor old Clytie—but you see yesterday all day I felt queer—very queer, and wrought up, and last night I couldn't rest, and I lay awake and excited all night— and something seemed to give way when I saw you in the door. Of course it was nervousness, and I shall be all right now——"
She looked up and saw Bernal staring at her— standing in the doorway of the big room, his face shading into the dusk back of him. She went to him with both hands out and he kissed her.
"Is it Nance?"
"I don't know—but it's really Bernal."
"Clytie says you knew I had come."
"Clytie must have misunderstood. No one even intimated such a thing. I came up to-day—I had to come—because—if I had known you were here, wouldn't I have brought Allan?"
"Of course I was going to let you know, and come down in a few days—there was some business to do here. Dear old Allan! I'm aching to get a stranglehold on him!"
"Yes—he'll be so glad—there's so much to say!"