"They are to-day," she answered, demurely. "But I may prefer something else to-morrow." (Wasn't that neat, and dear of her?)
I was very glad to have this opportunity of seeing Jean and Mr. Garney together, because I admit that Mrs. Whyte's gossip had disturbed me. I therefore made no move to hurry Jean away, but pretended to talk to Barney while I watched the other two together. I fancy Barney understood the situation pretty well, for he glanced shrewdly from me to Mr. Garney and back, as though he would see if I, too, understood. But the result of my observation of their mutual attitude was wholly reassuring. Garney was crazy about her, of course,--that was obvious. But Jean was heart-whole and unimpressed. Of that I felt quite sure, and I recognized the fact with a relief that measured my previous disturbance. So long as she was not dazzled, no harm could come of it. He couldn't marry her against her will!
How well I remember all the trivial events of that afternoon! After loading her down with violets, we went to a confectioner's and had some gorgeous variety of ice-cream, and I did my best to restore her to her usual rose-colored view of life. She responded beautifully, and we had a very gay time. But when I left her at her own door, finally, the wistfulness returned.
"You are going away, aren't you?" she asked.
"Why, I shall have to, in order to feel that I have a right to keep that cigar-case, since it was given to me as a good-bye present."
She stood very still for a moment, searching me with her deep eyes. Then she put out her hand impulsively.
"Good-bye," she said breathlessly, and fled into the house.
[CHAPTER XVII]
A VOICE FROM THE PAST
The next day brought me a strange letter from William Jordan, the defrauded farmer whom I had left in Eden Valley. He wrote: