A step in the hall made her hasten to dash away the tell-tale drops, as
Hetty knocked, before peeping in to say,--
"There's a gentleman in the parlor asking to see you, Miss Olmstead."
"A gentleman? One of the professors?"
"I don't think it is; I never see him before--it's a young man."
Sara rose, adjusted her dress a little, and descended to the drawing-
room. In its close-shuttered condition she did not at first recognize
the figure which rose to meet her, but a second look wrung from her
almost a cry.
"Jasper?" "Yes, Sairay, it's me. You--you've been sick, I hear."
She bowed her head, unable to speak for the second.
"And you show it too," with an awed look into her lovely face,
spiritualized by illness, as he took her extended hand.
"Yes," recovering herself, "but I'm nearly well now--how are they all in
Killamet?"
"Oh, so-so, I guess; but I haven't been home to stay any since last
month--soon after Cousin Prue was here, it was. I had business in
Norcross yesterday, and I come over from there by train. Mother wrote
about your having the fever."
She had motioned him to a chair, and dropped into another herself,
feeling weak in body, and perplexed in mind. Why had he come? Was
_he_ the answer to her repining thoughts? His voice roused her from
the sort of lethargic state into which she had dropped for a moment.
Pages:
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270