“How lucky that I was in,” she said. “Please come into the dining room, Belle.”
“So this is your domicile,” said Belle. She raised her
eyes, and looked up at the windows; then glancing round the walls, finally settled them on the much-worn carpet at her feet.
“Neat, but not gaudy,” she said; “not much to complain of when all is said and done. How do you do?”
She held out her hand to her friend. Leslie grasped it.
“I am delighted to see you,” said Leslie. “I am all alone, for mother and all the children are on the river.”
“And you, you dear, faithful soul, have stayed at home to go on with your literary studies?” exclaimed Belle, her eyes gleaming.
“Not a bit of it, Belle; you must not think me better than I deserve. I stayed at home to mope.”
“To mope? Surely you are not regretting? Having put your hand to the plow, you are not looking back? Leslie, I could never have thought it of you!”
“I am not looking back, Belle. I am still as fond as ever of my studies; but at the present moment I am not thinking of literature nor of college life at all. Sit down; how hot you look! The day is such a sultry one.”