As she looked, a horseman came dashing down the hill; he passed through the gate and down the avenue.
"That must be either Abner or Oleah," thought Irene. "Six months ago, they would have gone and returned together."
When he stepped on the piazza, the moon fell on his face and revealed the features of Abner Tompkins. He came rapidly up the steps and into the house. Staying only a few moments in the room below, where his parents were, then came directly to Irene's door and knocked.
She bade him come in.
"Irene," he said in tremulous tones, "I have strange news for you. I must leave to-night for months perhaps, perhaps forever, my home, my parents—and you."
Irene sprang to his side eager and excited.
"Why, Abner, what do you mean?"
"Is it such a surprise to you? I will try to speak calmly, but I have only a few moments to stay. I have a load on my heart that I must unburden to you."
"What is it?" she said, drawing a low stool to his feet and seating herself she took both his hands in her own. "Tell me what troubles you, let me share it with you. Who should share your troubles if not your sister?"
"Irene, what I have to say will shock you."