“Oh, Tom! I—I—am going to be married to-morrow!”
I do not know how long it was that Tom stood there, staring blankly at her. His throat was dry and husky, and he felt the muscles of his face twitching every now and then. It was Patty who broke the silence.
“Tom!” she cried, in a choking voice; “dear Tom! don’t look at me in that way—thee breaks my heart! Say something kind to me, Tom—speak to me!”
“Who’s thee going to—who’s the man, Patty?” said Tom, dully.
“Isaac Naylor. Oh, Tom! I was urged to it so that I couldn’t help myself. They all told me that thee was dead. Even thy mother said thee was drowned!”
The muscles of Tom’s throat had tightened until he felt as though he was choking. He stood as though uncertain what to do, for a little while; then he said, “I—I guess I’d better go—go home, now; there’s no use my staying any—any longer.” Then he turned away and went stumbling blindly down the porch steps. He reached the gate and fumbled for a little while, hunting for the latch; then he opened it and went out into the road. There were a few chickens dusting themselves in the path; he stood looking stupidly at them for a little while, his hands hanging limp at his sides. Then he turned and walked heavily away, without looking back.
CHAPTER XV.
TOM GRANGER walked along, scarcely knowing where he was going. After a while he stopped and looked about him, and he saw that he was standing in the road not far from the highway. Around him was the silent woods; in front of him was the sunny highroad, about three hundred paces farther on. He felt that he could not go out into it just now. He flung himself down on the grassy roadside, burying his face in his arms, giving himself up utterly to the despair that was upon him. No sound broke the silence of the autumn woodland but the gurgle of the rocky brook across the road, the sudden rustle of the trees as the breeze rushed through them now and then, and the rattling of the dead leaves stirred by a breath of air.