“‘My sincerest regards to your family and to all my friends in the hills, not forgetting your friend Ruth.’ That’s all,” said Jeffrey, folding the letter. “I wish he’d said more about how he managed the thing.”
“Isn’t it enough to know that he did manage it, without bothering about how? That is the way he does everything.”
“I suppose I ought to be satisfied,” said Jeffrey as he gathered up his reins. “But I wonder what he means by that last part of the letter. It sounds like a warning to me.”
“It is a warning to you,” said Ruth thoughtfully.
“Why, what does it mean? What does he think I’m likely to do?”
“Maybe he does not mean what you are likely to do exactly,” said Ruth, trying to choose her words wisely; “maybe he is thinking more of what you are likely to feel. Maybe he is talking to your heart rather than to your head or about your actions.”
“Now I don’t know what you mean, either,” said Jeffrey a little discontentedly.
“I know I oughtn’t to try to tell you what the Bishop means, for I don’t know myself. But I’ve been worried and I’m sure your mother has too,” said Ruth reluctantly.
“But what is it?” said Jeffrey quickly. “What have I been doing?”