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Updated: June 26, 2025
Out of doors the stir of spring was in the air; snow melting on the hills, grass sprouting on the plains. Editha's troubled face brightened a little, as she turned up the lane against the sun and felt its warmth upon her cheek. "It gives one the feeling that it will melt one's sorrows as it melts the snow," she told herself.
I knew that I would be needed greatly then, and had rather dreaded it; though from Miss Editha's pink cheeks at the supper-party the night before, as she sipped her champagne I had rather hoped that she was making up her mind to a time of it. And then the joy of watching united Tolly and Edith!
The sense of expectancy was so overwhelming that it completely paralyzed every other faculty within him, and Editha's searching eyes seemed like a corroding acid touching an aching wound. Yet for the moment there was no danger.
Even now, he looked sullen and disagreeable as, having exchanged a significant glance with his sister-in-law, he gave a comprehensive nod to the assembled guests, which had nothing in it either of cordiality or of good-will. He touched Editha's finger tips with his lips, and then advanced into the room.
Even whilst he settled himself into the saddle as comfortably as he could, the grim humor of Editha's bewilderment caused him to laugh, within himself. The nag stepped slowly along in the mud at first, then broke into a short trot. The two serving-men had started on ahead with their lanterns; they would, of course, be walking all the way.
At sight of Mistress de Chavasse, Boatfield rose. A look of annoyance crossed his face, at thought that Editha's arrival had, mayhap, endangered the success of his present purpose. Ink and paper were on the table close to his elbow, and it was obvious that he had been questioning the old woman very closely on a subject which she apparently desired to keep secret from him.
Miss Editha's cock's-combs strutted in a gorgeous row down the east walk, and what could have been a greater surprise than that handed me by a row of jolly round squash, though I had been sure we had picked the last languishing fluted fruit from the vine the last week of August?
I guess I'll have to make a little more light in here," and she went and pushed two of the shutters ajar. Then Editha's father said, in his public will-now-address-a-few-remarks tone: "My name is Balcom, ma'am Junius H. Balcom, of Balcom's Works, New York; my daughter " "Oh!" the seated woman broke in, with a powerful voice, the voice that always surprised Editha from Gearson's slender frame.
As she darted at it, it eluded her; but she chased it to and fro, seeing it more clearly at each turn. Finally she caught it. She leaped up and opened her mouth to shout it forth, when an impulse of Editha's caution touched her, and instead, she threw her arms around his neck and laughed it into his ear. He drew back and gazed at her with dawning appreciation. She nodded excitedly.
"Yes," the lady said, looking at Editha's lips in nature and then at her lips in art, and giving an empirical touch to them in the picture. "But how dreadful of her! How perfectly excuse me how vulgar!" A light broke upon Editha in the darkness which she felt had been without a gleam of brightness for weeks and months.
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