This lifted an immense weight from my mind, but the ninth page hurled it back again.
"You never say anything of Miss Ashley in your letters. What is she like—young or old, ugly or pretty, clever or dull? I met a lady recently who knows her and thinks she is charming. She also said Miss Ashley was to be married soon to Rev. Something-or-Other. Is it true?"
Aye, was it? Quite likely. Kate's letter made a very miserable man of me. Gussie found me a dull companion that day. After several vain attempts to rouse me to interest she gave it up.
"There's no use talking to you," she said impatiently. "I believe you are homesick. That letter you got this morning looked suspicious. Anyhow, I hope you'll get over it before I get back."
"Are you going away again?" I asked.
"Yes. I am going to stay a few days with Flossie." Flossie was that inseparable chum of hers.
"You seem to spend a good deal of your time with her," I remarked discontentedly.
Gussie opened her eyes at my tone.
"Why, of course," she said. "Flossie and I have always been chums. And she needs me more than ever just now, for she is awfully busy. She is to be married next month."
"Oh, I see—and you—"