The lady rose.
"It's Mis' Jerome, mother," said Ruby, simply, "the lady that stays at Squireses."
Mrs. Jerome bowed, and a look of full understanding passed between the two. Ruby, gathering her flowers, saw nothing of it.
"I am going away, Mrs. Granger," said the lady. "Circumstances require my immediate return to the city. I came to leave a message with you for—your husband, as he is not at home. Tell him I thank him for the pleasure he has given me this summer."
"I'm real sorry you took the trouble to come down," said Mrs. Granger. "It's a long walk, an' Squires could 'a' told Rob to-night."
"Yes, I know," said the lady, consulting her watch, "but I wanted a last walk."
She held the little woman's hand at parting, and looked long into the shy face. Then, stooping, she lightly kissed her forehead, and, with the flowers in her hand, went down the grassy avenue, up the hill, and out of sight.
Robert Granger came home late in the afternoon. He drove directly into the barn, and proceeded to unharness and care for the jaded beast, which was covered with foam and dust. He himself was haggard and wild-eyed, and he moved about with feverish haste. When he had made the tired creature comfortable in his stall, he went to the splendid animal in the one adjoining and began to bestow similar attentions upon him. While he was thus engaged, Mrs. Rogers came into the stable. Her son-in-law hardly raised his eyes. She watched him sharply for a moment, and came nearer.
"Ain't ye comin' in to get somethin' to eat, Rob?"