“I hope not, indeed,” said Sophy, in a soothing tone, “but I don’t suppose there is much danger of that, grandfather, they shade the house so pleasantly.”
“Maybe not,” said Mr. Middleton, fidgeting in his chair, as if the very idea had made him nervous, “but there is no telling how it will be. People are so crazy to make money now-a-days, that nothing is safe. Who did you say had bought it, wife?”
“I didn’t hear his name,” replied Mrs. Middleton; “but I was so busy with other matters, that maybe I didn’t ask. However, we can hear all about it to-morrow, Samuel, for to-morrow is election-day, you know, and Mr. Harris says he must have your vote, and they’ll send down their wagon for you and me in good season, so that we can take a dish of tea with them, if Sophy don’t mind being alone one afternoon.”
Sophy expressed her entire willingness to remain at home, and, indeed, was rejoiced at the prospect of so doing; and at the appointed hour next day, when Mr. Harris’s wagon came rattling down the lane, gladly assisted her grand-parents to prepare for their visit, and saw them drive away with, it must be confessed, a feeling of relief, somewhat difficult, perhaps, to analyze.
Instead, however, of setting about the various little tasks which, to beguile her loneliness, Mrs. Middleton had suggested, Sophy sat down by the window, and was soon lost in deep thought. What was the subject of her meditations, I think I would not tell, even if I could, because I do not choose to betray all the weaknesses of my sex; but I am sure her eyes were wet, and her face very sorrowful, when who should come trotting to the door but Archie Harris himself, the very last person in the world one might have expected on election-day, when everybody, young or old, was, or ought to have been, busy at the Brookville poll. Be this as it may, however, here, as I said, came Archie, who threw the bridle of his pretty bay pony over the gate-post, and walked into the sitting-room, saying, “I met your folks just now going to the village, and hearing you were at home, called to see you.”
Sophy received him with a mixture of reserve and cordiality quite unmistakable, and a blended shower of tears, smiles, and blushes, which Archie interpreted favorably, I suppose, for he said, “Then you are glad to see an old friend once more, Sophy.”
“Certainly I am, and it is a long time since you were here.”
“Long! let me see—six weeks, I guess. You don’t call that a great while, do you?”
“Oh, yes, I do,” replied Sophy, blushing. “We are so lonely now that we have learned to think much of our friends.”
“Have you?” said Archie, regarding her with a look half pleased, half sorrowful, as if some painful recollection at that moment crossed his mind; “that is enough to make some of us almost glad that you have left Brookville.”