"No, he didn't see me at all. I was watching him from the window. But I saw his face and—" with a sudden gesture of desperation, "Oh, it wasn't that at all, Jed. It was my guilty conscience, I guess. I've been expecting him to speak to you—or me—have been dreading it every day—and now somehow I knew he had spoken. I KNEW it. What did he say, Jed?"
Jed told the substance of what Captain Sam had said. She listened. When he finished her eyes were wet.
"Oh, it is dreadful," she moaned. "I—I was so hoping she might not care for Charlie. But she does—of course she does. She couldn't help it," with a sudden odd little flash of loyalty.
Jed rubbed his chin in desperation.
"And—and Charlie?" he asked, anxiously. "Does he—"
"Yes, yes, I'm sure he does. He has never told me so, never in so many words, but I can see. I know him better than any one else in the world and I can see. I saw first, I think, on Thanksgiving Day; at least that is when I first began to suspect—to fear."
Jed nodded. "When they was at the piano together that time and Sam said somethin' about their bein' a fine-lookin' couple?" he said.
"Why, yes, that was it. Are you a mind reader, Jed?"
"No-o, I guess not. But I saw you lookin' kind of surprised and— er—well, scared for a minute. I was feelin' the same way just then, so it didn't need any mind reader to guess what had scared you."
"I see. But, oh, Jed, it is dreadful! What SHALL we do? What will become of us all? And now, when I—I had just begun to be happy, really happy."