“Tom!” was Rena’s prompt reply.
“Really?” Irene exclaimed in astonishment.
“Yes, really; but a flesh-and-blood Tom, not a spirit,” Rena said, repeating some of the incidents of her adventure, while Irene listened with keen interest.
“And didn’t you hear him at all as he came up behind you?” she asked.
“No, not at all,” Rena replied. “The ground is soft, you know, and the pine-needles so thick that his step made no sound. I half believe old Sandy played that same trick on poor Nannie, though she would, of course, have seen him a moment after and known he was there. He could do it.”
“Yes,” Irene said, slowly and thoughtfully, “and was Tom’s face distinct beside yours?”
“Not all of it, but enough for me to have known it was Tom if he had vanished in air instead of seizing my arm.”
Irene was more interested in the well business than in Rena’s engagement, the news of which she received with no surprise. She had expected it, she said, and congratulated Rena and hoped she would be happy. Then, saying she was tired and must rest, she shut the door of her room and gave herself up to a train of thought, which she meant should bear fruit. If she could bring Rex to a proposal before Tom came back and spoiled everything, she believed he would keep faith with her, especially as Rena was lost to him. With her quick intuition she always felt that Rena attracted Rex more than she did, but that did not matter now; Rena was engaged, and there was nothing in the way of her own advancement. She could explain the deception into which she had been persuaded so that Rex would not blame her, and she began to feel very happy and confident.
Meanwhile Rex was in Tom’s room watching him as he packed his valise, and telling him how sorry he was to have him go. Tom had told him of his engagement, and like Irene he heard the news without much surprise.
“I fancied it was already settled,” he said, “and I congratulate you and know you will be happy. How long will you be gone at the farthest?”