“What do you think?”—she interrupted him, her lip drooping a little in a half-contemptuous smile—“they’ve heard again from that Sister Lydia who ran away! You know who I mean?—Brother Nathan is always talking about her. They think she’ll come back. I should say good riddance! Though of course if it’s genuine repentance I’ll be glad. Only I don’t think it is.”
“How pleased Nathan will be!” Lewis said.
“Oh, he’s pleased; he’s rather too pleased for a Shaker, it strikes me.”
Lewis frowned. “There is joy in the presence of the angels,” he reminded her, gravely.
“Angels!” she said, with a laugh; “I don’t believe so much in the angels as I did before I knew so much about them. I understand that when this ‘angel’ comes back I am to give up my room to her, if you please, because it used to be hers. Oh, I’m of no importance now—Lewis,” she broke off, suddenly, “who has our house this year?”
“Davis; he wants to re-lease it in May.”
“He just takes it by the year, doesn’t he?” she asked.
He nodded. “Wants a five-years’ lease next time.”
“Well, don’t give it to him!” she said; and added, frowning: “You ought to go back yourself, you know. It’s foolish for you to be here. Why, it’s almost two years!”
“Time flies,” he said, smiling.