Across on the farther sidewalk some one was standing, as though waiting for a companion. Meg had seen the person before but with no special attention. She was too deeply engaged with her own thoughts. Betty was differently influenced, for the figure had an oddly pathetic and lonely attitude. She could not see the face and the moment she began closing the living-room curtain the figure walked away.
Meg chose this same instant for giving her friend a sudden ardent embrace and Betty’s attention would in any case have been distracted.
With the lights under the rose-colored shades now glowing, and Mollie asking no more embarrassing questions, the atmosphere of the living room soon grew cheerful again. For Mollie had a great deal of Woodford news to tell. Eleanor Meade was getting a beautiful trousseau for her marriage with Frank Wharton in the spring and she and Mollie had been sewing together almost every day. Eleanor had given up her old ambition to become a celebrated artist and was using her taste for color and design in the preparation of her clothes. Frank was in business with his father and would have a good deal of money, and although Eleanor’s family was poor she did not intend to have less in her trousseau than other girls. Her own skill and work should make up for it.
Billy Webster was succeeding better each month with the management of his farm since his father’s death. Now and then Mollie went to call on Mrs. Webster and not long ago she and Billy had walked out to Sunrise cabin. The little house was in excellent condition, although no one had lived in it for several years.
“It is wonderfully kind,” Mollie explained, “but Billy has his own men look after our cabin and make any repairs that are necessary. He even keeps the grass cut and the weeds cleared from about the place, so any one of us could go out there to live with only a few hours preparation,” she ended with her usual happy smile.
For Mollie O’Neill was not self-conscious and did not guess for a moment that while she talked both Betty and Meg were engaged with the same thought. Was there still nothing more between Mollie and Billy than simple friendliness? Once they had believed that there might be something, but now the time was passing and they were both free, Mollie at home helping her mother with the house, Billy the head of his own farm, and yet nothing had happened. Well, possibly nothing ever would and they might always simply remain friends, until one or the other married some one else.
Suddenly Mollie started and her color faded.
“I am awfully sorry, Betty, I know how silly and nervous you and Polly used always to think me, but look, please!” She spoke under her breath and pointed toward the closed blind.
There, sharply defined, was the shadow of a head apparently straining to see inside the room. It had the effect of a gray silhouette.
The two other girls also changed color, for the effect was uncanny. Then Betty laughed somewhat nervously.