XXI
BROKEN WINDOWS
Always now on the evening of post day, after I had read my newspapers, came the worn shawl and the dark, weary eyes—Vesty, to sit awhile with Miss Pray.
"Is there any news of Notely, Major Henry?"
Now and then I made her put the question, but oftener I was kind and volunteered any information on this subject that I had been able to glean; and at the news of joy or success for him, how her eyes glowed! Basin pure and great, with no thought for the shadow of her own lot—Vesty of the Basins.
"Is there any news of Notely, Major Henry?"
She was pinning the shawl at her throat after a short call, before going out; and she gave me her direct, reproachful look, as though I had been teasing her.
But I was not teasing her; my heart yearned over her where she stood, facing the dark.
"I will tell you what I have read," I said, "as I walk home with you. You are 'helping' them at your own father's again now?"
She bowed her head. Her dark eyes filled me with a kind of frenzy to make rest and comfort about her; and I had hard news for her!