"I will," acquiesced Grace briefly. A swift rush of unbidden emotion brought her very near to tears. Accompanying Tom to the door, she watched him wistfully down the walk. She was forcibly reminded of a day, belonging to the past, when she had seen him go down that same walk, and, as she then believed, out of her life. On that dark rainy afternoon of the long ago she had felt only pity as she gazed after his retreating form. She had gone into the house and cried bitterly, out of sheer sorrow of the hurt which she had inflicted upon her childhood's friend. Now all was changed. Devoted love shone through the windows of the clear gray eyes that followed Tom Gray's tall, broad-shouldered figure, as he swung through the gate and down the street. And, as she stood there in the doorway, the triumphant knowledge that she loved and was loved in return swept away her inclination to tears. Even the shadow of separation could not dim the glory of the summer that lived in her heart.
CHAPTER VII
THE VEILED PROPHETESS OF DESTINY
"But is Emma really coming, Elfreda?" questioned Sara Emerson anxiously. "She wrote us that she would surely be here."
Seven eager faces reflected the anxiety in Sara's tones as she made this inquiry. The first day of the Semper Fidelis week of reunion was well on its way toward sunset. Of the original members, six had descended upon the Briggs' spacious cottage to keep Elfreda company. With them had come Kathleen West and Patience Eliot, the guests of honor. Five members were still among the missing. Marian Cummings, Gertrude Wells, Elsie Wilton and Ruth Denton had been unable to grace the occasion with their presence. Ruth's inability to attend lay in the fact that she was with her father in Nevada. This had been a great cross to her chum, Arline Thayer. The others had also mourned the distance that separated her from them. But even the absence of these four paled almost into insignificance beside the disappointing knowledge that the fifth missing member, jovial Emma Dean, had not yet appeared.
"She will be here," announced Elfreda positively. "I know she will. Don't worry about it. She will no doubt come to the surface when you least expect it. She wouldn't miss the reunion for a good deal."
"But she'll miss having dinner on the lawn this evening and seeing that wonderful gypsy fortune teller you have hunted up for the occasion," was Julia Emerson's regretful cry. "Where did you find her, Elfreda? Can she really tell fortunes?"
"She can," Elfreda asserted with solemn positiveness. "Wait and see. Where I found her is a secret for to-night. Perhaps if you are good, I'll tell you all about her to-morrow."
"But to-morrow never comes," reminded Patience Eliot. "You'd better tell us now."