"I'll tell Celie how they go on!" she reflected. "Then I guess she won't be so smart! Winkin' and carryin' on!" The dwelling on the iniquities of Josephine was vastly cheering. Norah almost forgot a heavy-eyed and overgrown boy, who, when little, had sobbed his troubles out against her thin shoulder, and had turned to her for soothing sugar cookies.
At the pretty little station, K. Stuyvesant was met by Cecilia.
"How'd do?" he said gruffly.
"How do you do?" said Cecilia. She had on her prettiest dress, but K. Stuyvesant Twombly didn't notice it. They disposed of the baggage question and then he settled, stiff and conscious, by her side in a small grey car.
"Pretty day," said K. Stuyvesant at last. Then he looked at Cecilia. "Gosh! I love——" He stopped suddenly and shook his head.
"Wh-what have you been doing since I saw you?" asked Cecilia.
"Thinking of you," answered K. Stuyvesant gruffly. Cecilia didn't answer. He was afraid she hadn't liked his telling her the truth, so he described a futurist exhibition, while horribly conscious that the quick beating of his heart made his voice shake.
"I'm glad you came," said Cecilia after the futurist exhibition had been described. "I wanted to see you."
"Dear!" said K. Stuyvesant loudly, and without the least effort. He sat looking down on her with a very honest and revealing look, a look that would have made any one with the least feeling bet their last cent on him.
"Two months," reminded Cecilia.... It was really too wonderful. It had to be proved. If he really cared he would wait two months.