“Farewell, then.”
Tom watched her until she had gone up the porch steps and was hidden by the vines that were clustered about it. He heard Elihu say, “Where’s Thomas?” but he did not hear Patty’s answer; then he turned and walked slowly homeward.
The summer passed, the fall passed, the winter passed, and the spring time had come again.
Tom’s walk with Patty seemed to have broken through the smoothness of the acquaintance betwixt the three.
Elihu had never been the same to him since that night; he had never been as cordial or as friendly as he had been before.
Sometimes it seemed to Tom as though Patty herself was growing tired of seeing so much of him. At such times he would vow within himself as he walked homeward that he would never call there again, and yet he always went back after a while.
So things moved along without that pleasant friendliness in their acquaintanceship until that occurred which altered the face of everything.
One First-day afternoon, Tom found himself standing on the porch of the mill-house. It was in the early part of April, but the day was very mild and soft, and Elihu and Patty were sitting on the porch.
“How is thee, Thomas?” said Elihu. He did not take the pipe from his lips as he spoke, neither did he ask the other to be seated. Tom stood leaning against the post and no one spoke for a while.
“Isn’t it a lovely day?” said Patty.