"Because his eyes are so beautiful and honest," answered Margaret.
But Nan tossed her head; she would never believe anything good about Gabriel unless she said it herself—or thought it, for she could think hundreds, yes, thousands, of things about Gabriel that she wouldn't dare to breathe aloud, even though there was no living soul within a hundred miles. And that fact needn't make Gabriel feel so awfully proud, for there were other persons and things she could think about.
Ah, well! love is such a restless, suspicious thing, such an irritating, foolish, freakish, solemn affair, that it is not surprising the two young women were somewhat afraid of it when they found themselves in its clutches.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Miss Polly Has Some News
The news which Miss Polly had laid as a social offering at Mrs. Lucy Lumsden's feet, and which she boasted was very astonishing, had the appearance of absurdity on the face of it. Miss Polly, with her work-bag and her turkey-tail fan, had paid a very early visit to the Lumsden Place. She went in very quietly, greeted her old friend in a subdued manner, and then sat staring at her with an expression that Mrs. Lumsden failed to understand. It might have been the result of special and unmitigated woe, or of physical pain, or of severe fatigue. Whatever the cause, it was unnatural, and so Gabriel's grandmother made haste to inquire about it.
"Why, what in the world is the matter, Polly? Are you ill?"
At this Miss Polly acted as if she had been aroused from a dream or a revery. Her work-bag slid from her lap, and her turkey-tail fan would have fallen had it not been attached to her wrist by a piece of faded ribbon. "I declare, Lucy, I don't know that I ought to tell you; and I wouldn't if I thought you would repeat it to a living soul. It is more than marvellous; it is, indeed, Lucy"—leaning a little nearer, and lowering her voice, which was never very loud—"I honestly believe that Ritta Claiborne is in love with old Silas Tomlin! I certainly do."
"You must have some reason for believing that," said Mrs. Lumsden, with a benevolent smile, the cause of which the ear-trumpet could not interpret.