She had told him to come again; and he wondered how long he should wait. He was supposed to come to see Sophie—but that, of course, was absurd, for he saw Sophie every night at home.
He waited three days; and then he could wait no longer. The hunger to see her was like a fire smoldering in him.
In the morning, at eleven o'clock, he went to the house and Sophie came to the door. “I'll tell her you're here,” said she, understanding at once. She ran upstairs, and came back telling him to come. “And she's glad, Samuel!” exclaimed the child.
“Won't you come, too?” he asked blunderingly.
“No, she told me not to,” was Sophie's reply.
So he went upstairs to Miss Wygant's own sitting room, and found her in a morning gown, even more beautiful than the one she had worn before.
“You don't know how glad I am to see you,” she said.
Samuel admitted that he didn't know; and he added, “And I don't know why you should be, Miss Gladys.”
Miss Gladys stood looking at him. “You find things interesting, don't you?” she asked.
“Why, yes, Miss Gladys,” he replied.