"You had better tell her," said Mrs. Gregory, "for she is determined to know."
"I was taking a walk to rest my mind," Abbott said slowly, proceeding as if he would have liked to fight his ground inch by inch, "and it was rather late. I was strolling about Littleburg. Yesterday was a pretty hard day, getting ready for Commencement—my mind was tired out."
"Did you get your mind rested?" Grace permitted herself the slight relaxation of a sarcasm.
"Yes, At last I found myself at the new bridge that leads to the camp- meeting grounds, when ahead of me, there was—I saw Fran. I was much surprised to find her out there, alone."
"I can understand that," said Grace quietly, "for I should have been surprised myself."
Mrs. Gregory turned upon Grace. "Let him go on!" she said with a flash that petrified the secretary.
"When I came up to the bridge, she was sitting there, with some cards —all alone. She had some superstition about trying fortunes on a new bridge at midnight, and that explains the lateness of the hour. So I persuaded her to come home, and that is all."
Mrs. Gregory breathed with relief. "What an odd little darling!" she murmured, smiling.
"What kind of fortune was she telling?" Grace asked.
"Whatever kind the new bridge would give her."