“I thought your holidays did not end until next week,” she said.
“They do not.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because I could not stay away, Cynthia,” he answered. It was not the manner in which he would have said it a month ago. There was a note of intense earnestness in his voice—now, and to it she could make no light reply. Confronted again with an unexpected situation, she could not decide at once upon a line of action.
“When did you leave Brampton?” she asked, to gain time. But with the words her thoughts flew to the hill country.
“This morning,” he said, “on the early train. They have three feet of snow up there.” He, too, seemed glad of a respite from something. “They're having a great fuss in Brampton about a new teacher for the village school. Miss Goddard has got married. Did you know Miss Goddard, the lanky one with the glasses?”
“Yes,” said Cynthia, beginning to be amused at the turn the conversation was taking.
“Well, they can't find anybody smart enough to replace Miss Goddard. Old Ezra Graves, who's on the prudential committee, told Ephraim they ought to get you. I was in the post-office when they were talking about it. Just see what a reputation for learning you have in Brampton!”
Cynthia was plainly pleased by the compliment.
“How is Cousin Eph?” she asked.