“Why, how? Do tell us,” chimed in her companion, a garrulous old lady.
“Why, they say that this young woman is going about with Mr. Wyman all the time. He takes her to ride almost every day, and they have interminable walks and daily confabs together.”
“Well, I should think the child's lessons would come off slim, Miss Gay.”
“O, that's only a subterfuge. They'll be married 'fore one year has gone by.”
“I do not believe Hugh Wyman will ever marry again,” said one who knew his character better than the others.
“Then what can he want of that young woman? No good, depend on that,” and Mrs. Green shook her head as though she had more in it than she wished at that time to display.
While they chat and waste the hours, let us go and listen to the parties talked of, and judge for ourselves whether two earnest souls can not approach, enjoy each other, and yet be pure and blameless.
“I can scarcely believe, Mr. Wyman, that so brief a period could work such a change in my being. Before I came here, I thought all the world cold and heartless. You have taught me that friendship, even between men and women, may exist, and that the only true relations are of soul and not of blood. I can never by words tell you how grateful I feel to you for all these teachings,” and she looked thoughtfully out on the summer scene before her.
“I am very glad that you are happy here, Miss Vernon, for when I first saw you I instinctively felt that you were just the companion for myself and daughter. I saw, too, the cloud which hung over you, and felt that my hand could lift it. You belong to Dawn and myself, and we shall keep you so long as you are happy.”
“But-”