"I believe you dropped this, madam," said the man, stooping suddenly as if to pick something up from the ground, and handing to Berry what seemed to be a note.
"Oh, thanks!" said Berry, in a confused voice, quite different from her ordinary voice.
The stranger raised his hat formally, and moved aside.
"What was that?" asked Mrs. Joy, who had been watching the game and had seen nothing of this by-play. "Did you drop something, Berry?"
"Only a note from Julia Prime," answered Berry, slipping the paper in her pocket.
"It was very civil of that person, whoever he was," said Mrs. Joy, unsuspiciously.
Berry and Georgie exchanged looks. Candace was at a loss what to think.
There are few better keepers of secrets than shy people. They do not let things out by accident, as talkative persons do; it is easier for them to be silent than to talk, to keep counsel than to betray it. But apart from being shy, Candace's instincts were honorable. She had a lady-like distaste of interfering with other people's affairs or seeming to pry into them. She said not a word to any one about this matter of the Polo Ground, and she tried not to think about it; although it was not in human nature not to feel a little curiosity, and she caught herself observing Georgie rather more than usual, though without intending it.
This quickened observation showed her two things: first, that Georgie had something on her mind; and secondly, that she was determined not to show it. She laughed and talked rather more than was her custom; and if the laughter was a little forced, no one else seemed to find it out. There were times when Candace almost persuaded herself that the whole thing was the effect of her own imagination, which had exaggerated something that was perfectly commonplace into importance simply because she did not understand it; and then again she doubted, and was sure that Georgie was not like her usual self.
So another week went by, and brought them to September. There was no sign of autumn as yet. Every leaf was as green and fresh on its bough, every geranium as bright on its stalk, as if summer were just beginning instead of just ended. But with the presage which sends the bird southward long before the cold is felt, and teaches the caterpillar to roll its cocoon and the squirrel to make ready its winter's nest and store of nuts, the gay summer crowd began to melt away. Every day brought a lessened list of arrivals at the hotels; and already there was that sense of a season over and done with and about to be laid up and shelved for the winter, which all watering-places know so well, and which is as a nipping frost to the hopes of landlords and letters of lodgings. Just why "Finis" should be written so early on the fair page of the Newport season, it is hard to explain; for, charming as is the summer, September and October are more charming still, and nowhere does the later autumn exhibit a more indulgent mood, holding back the winter till the last possible moment, and sometimes coaxing summer to aid and abet with supplies of greenery and flowers, till the New Year comes to put an end to the merry game.