“Better have some mo’ cakes, Mister No’th, sir; traveling mighty tryin’ bizness.”
“’Nother aig, sir? Yo’ got a long journey ahaid, sir!”
“Please, sir, let me git yo’ some mo’ coffee. It’s pow’ful cold an’ crampy out do’s this mawnin’!”
Will was awaiting them with the buckboard, in which John’s trunk and luggage were already piled. Margaret accompanied them to the porch, and when Phillip, who for some inexplicable reason had come out without his hat, returned inside, John seized the opportunity to bid her good-by. The smile she had worn all during breakfast left her face as he took her hand.
“I wish I were not driving you away,” she said regretfully.
“But you’re not; I have to go.”
She shook her head. “I fear I’m as distrustful of that telegram as Phil is,” she answered with a smile. “I’m sorry. We shall miss you. But you will come again, won’t you? You won’t let this—this mistake keep you away?”
“Do you want me to come back?” he asked with a note of hope in his voice.
“Yes,” she replied evenly. “I always want my friends to come back.”