“Yes,” he said, “I was in a hurry to leave the dream-world for the real.”
“And how do you like it?” asked Mabella, saucily.
Vashti spoke at the moment, some trivial speech, but in her tone there was the echo of might and right. It was as if with a wave of her hand she brushed aside from his consideration everything, every person, but herself.
They rose from the table together.
“Come out,” he whispered; she nodded, and soon they were pacing together in the morning sunshine. Mabella looked after them; turning, she saw Temperance wiping her eyes.
“What is it?” she asked with concern.
“Nothing,” said Temperance; “nothing; I’m real low in my spirits this morning, though why, I’m sure I can’t say. But it’s fair touching to hear him! There he was this morning talkin’ of her being perfect, and sayin’ he was perfectly contented. It’s a tempting o’ Providence. And, Mabella, there’s Vashti—she—well, I may misjudge,” concluded Temperance lamely. “Sakes! look at them chickings,” with which Temperance took herself off to regulate the ways and manners of her poultry yard. Mabella departed to do her work light heartedly, and Vashti out in the morning sunshine with her lover was weaving her web more and more closely about him.
In two nights more Sidney was leaving Dole.
It was the night of the prayer meeting.