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How could she leave a man like you that—” Marcia stopped, her brown eyes flashing fiercely as she thought of Captain Leavenworth’s hateful look at her that night in the moonlight. She shuddered and hid her face in her hands once more and cried with all the fervor of her young and undisciplined soul. David did not know what to do with a young woman in tears.
Leavenworth’s evenings would be fully occupied and society would see little of her while he remained. The day after Hannah received that letter was Sunday. The weeks had gone by rapidly since David left his home, and now the spring was coming on. The grass was already green as summer and the willow tree by the graveyard gate was tender and green like a spring-plume.
And in like manner on they went through the evening, frittering the time away at playing with edged tools. A friendship so begun—if so unworthy an intimacy may be called by that sweet name—boded no good to either of the two, and that evening marked a decided turn for the worse in Kate Leavenworth’s career. David had found it necessary to take a journey which might keep him away for several weeks.
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