"Mike has just brought good news from Atlanta," Charles, hot with embarrassment, broke in.
"Oh, have you?" Mary cried.
Michael hesitated, looking at Charles, who answered for him: "Yes. The operation was highly successful. Keith's recovery is now practically assured."
"Oh, that is good news!" Mary cried, her eyes flashing with joy, and she prevailed upon Michael to tell her all the details. When he had concluded she looked toward the barn. "I must hurry and tell my—tell my brothers." She was starting away when she turned back. "You must stay with us, Mr. Gilbreth. We have plenty of room. Any friend of Mr. Brown's is welcome at our house."
Michael threw an awkward glance at Charles and then said: "I thank you, miss, but I must hurry away. My time is up."
"Then I'll say good-by." Mary held out her hands. "I shall never forget your kindness, and I wish you a long, happy life."
The two men lapsed into silence as she flitted away in the gloom.
Presently Michael, with a deep sigh, said: "Now I understand, Mr. Charles—I understand how you are placed. Why, sir, she is the most exquisite young lady I ever saw! She's not only beautiful, but, sir, she is the real thing in womanhood, and her voice—I have never heard one like it. It is like music, sir, full of sweetness and gentleness and human sympathy. Oh, I can't blame you for wanting to stay here and cut out all the rest. Labor such as you are doing now with such companionship—"
"You mustn't misunderstand, Mike," said Charles, and his voice sank low in his throat. "She can never be more to me than a friend. You know why well enough. I am trying to be of use to her, that's all."
"But your heart, Mr. Charles," Mike said. "You'd not be a natural man if you could keep from loving a lady like her, sir. In fact, I see it in you. You never were struck that way at home, sir. Among all the fair ones you knew up there, none of them—"