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For Blossy's old suitor, Samuel Darby, had made one of his semiannual visits only that morning. The belle burst into hysterical and self-conscious laughter, as she found every glance bent upon her. "Oh, no, no; not that. But I confess that I am tired to death of this perpetual dove-party. I just simply can't live another minute without a man in the house.
Cottontail darted off into the woods again to seek out his mate and inform her that their guilt had been discovered. Finally, Samuel came to the break in the woodland, an open field of rye, green as springtime grass, and his own exquisitely neat abode beckoning across the gray rail-fence to him. How pretty Blossy's geraniums looked in the sitting-room windows!
She was struggling with the strings of her bonnet before the looking-glass which adorned Blossy's parlor-kitchen. She turned to him with a little cry, and he saw that her face had changed marvelously grown young, grown glad, grown soft and fresh with a new excited spirit of jubilant thanksgiving. "Oh, Father! Weren't yew s'prised tew git the telephone? I knowed yew'd come a-flyin' back."
He recollected that Angy would be there, and hoped fervently that she might not prove so strenuous a charge as Abraham. Moreover, he hoped that she would not so absorb Blossy's attention as to preclude a wifely ministering to his aching feet and the application of "St. Jerushy Ile" to his lame and sore back.
Now he was afraid to be decently courteous to one of the sisters for fear that they might accuse him of light dalliance again; and he scarcely ever addressed the new member who came to take Blossy's little room, for he had been cut to the quick by her look of astonishment when she was told that he belonged there. In his mental ferment the old man began to nag at Angy.
Alas, Blossy's frequent tete-a-tetes with the amused but sometimes impatient Abraham started an exceedingly foolish suspicion. When, asked the sisters of one another, did Abe ever help any one, save Blossy, shell dried beans or pick over prunes? When had he ever been known to hold wool for Angy's winding? Not once since wooing-time, I warrant you.
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