"As if I could ever be that," laughed Bee, giving her a bearish hug and a resounding kiss. "Although, if anything in the world could transform me into a beauty it would be father's coming. There, Aunt Annie! I am going to leave you in peace. I am going into the garden and walk to the Arbor Vitae hedge. It will take five minutes to walk there, and five to come back. If I do that six times one hour will be gone."
"Oh, youth! Impatient, restless youth!" ejaculated the lady as the girl danced out of the room.
The sun sank to rest. The gorgeous hued clouds of sunset lost their brilliancy under the approach of gray Twilight, and were folded upon the breast of Evening. Low in the west hung the silvery crescent of the young moon; and near, vieing with it in brightness, shone the soft radiance of the evening star—first wanderer in the train of night. The twilight shadows lengthened. The odorous breeze, scented with honeyed clover and the perfume of roses, grew languid in its sweetness, and presently died away. Great dusky moths drifted silently about the half-closed flowers, and from the hedge sounded the plaintive notes of a whip-poor-will.
"You will not have much longer to wait, Bee," comforted Mrs. Raymond, coming out on the verandah where the girl had taken her stand. "I heard the train quite a while ago, so they will soon be here. They are later than Henry thought they would be. You are not nervous, are you?"
"No; that is, I don't know," answered Bee, her head bent in a listening attitude. "Oh, auntie! What makes the minutes seem so long when one is waiting for something good to happen? They go fast enough at other times."
"It is one of those things that can't be explained, child," answered Mrs. Raymond gravely. "You remember the old proverb: 'A watched pot never boils'? But it won't be much longer. Try to possess your soul in patience for just a short time. He will soon be here now. It grows dark, doesn't it? The dinner will be quite late. Had we not better go inside?"
"You may, auntie, but I want to stay right here so as to get the first glimpse of him."
"I think I will, Bee. The air seems damp, and I am beginning to feel some of your nervousness. Adele is singing in the parlor. I think I'll join her."
"Do," said Bee briefly.
The darkness grew denser, but Bee still lingered on the porch, her form half hidden by the vines. Presently the sound of wheels was heard down the drive, and she started forward eagerly, then paused overcome by a sudden shyness. Mrs. Raymond hastened to the door, and stepped to the girl's side.