There was a beautiful expression of thoughtfulness on the sweet little face that was upturned to his, and the child passed her soft, cool hands to and fro over the bald part of his head while he waited for the promise. She did not speak for a moment or two, and then she said: “What a big forehead you have got! It goes all over behind.”
Tom took the child from her father with a hysterical laugh, which soon changed to weeping. Then the little one began to cry, too, softly and pitifully. “I will be good,” she said, “dear Auntie Tom. Put me to bed, and I will be a little mousie, so still, and never, never do it again.”
Tom’s nerves had been dreadfully shaken, and for some hours that night sleep was out of the question; so she and Margaret had a long talk together of that which was really uppermost in the minds of each. Margaret had been earnestly desiring to confide in her friend, but had not ventured to do so because she could not be certain of Tom’s feelings. On this night, however, Tom herself introduced the subject.
“Margaret,” she said, “you have not told me, as you ought to have done, considering what good friends we have always been, that you are engaged to my Cousin John; but I know you are, because he has told me so, and I want you to accept my congratulations. Nobody in the world will be more pleased than I to see you two happy together.”
“It is most good of you, Tom. Thank you very much. I have told no one; indeed, I am not sure that we are really engaged; but it is true that he cares for me, and I—he wishes us to be engaged, and perhaps there is no reason why we should not be. Do you know of any, Tom?”
“Not any, Madge,” said Tom, demurely, “because I know you care for him too. Poor fellow!”
“Why is he a poor fellow, Tom? Because two young women care for him?”
“Oh, no! He is to be congratulated on that account. I love him very much in a cousinly way; but if he wanted me to marry him, which he never has done, I would not, for I think it would not be right, since we are cousins. But I call him a poor fellow because I know how worried and troubled he is.”
“Is he, Tom? I expect he confides in you more than in me.”
“I am sure he does; but you need not therefore be jealous, Margaret. Some things he could not tell you.”