Old Mary came out with the tray, and when she had gone, Mrs. Follette said, “Now tell me what’s troubling you?”
“Of what?”
“Oh, of Mr. Towne’s big house, and—I think I’m a little bit afraid of him, too, Mrs. Follette.”
“Why should you be afraid?”
“Of the things he’ll expect of me. The things I’ll expect of myself. I can’t explain it. I just—feel it.”
Mrs. Follette, pouring ice-cold milk from a silver pitcher, said, “It is a case of nerves, my dear. You don’t know how lucky you are.”
“Am I lucky?” wistfully.
“Of course you are lucky. But all girls feel as you do, Jane, when the wedding day isn’t far off. They wonder and wonder. It’s the newness—the——”
“‘Laying flesh and spirit ... in his hands ...’” Jane quoted, with quick-drawn breath.