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Updated: May 23, 2025
'Oh, yes, I remember it perfectly, and how you frightened me sitting up there so high like a goblin, Frank answered, falteringly, his face as crimson now as Jerrie's, and his eyes dropping beneath her gaze. 'Gretchen's friends never got that letter, Jerrie continued. 'No, they never got it, Frank answered, mechanically.
Jerrie's face was a face to fear then, and Peterkin was afraid, and backed himself out of the room, with Jerrie close to him, never speaking a word, but motioning him to the door, through which he passed swiftly, and picking up his bag, walked rapidly away, growling to himself: 'There's the very Old Harry in that gal's eye.
But selfishness was not one of Jerrie's faults, and putting her own wishes aside, she said: 'Yes, I will stay until afternoon, and then I must go home. I did not tell you that Harold was going away to-night, did I? Maude shook her head, and Jerry went on: 'You know, perhaps, that some time ago a Mr. Wilson, of Truesdale, sued Peterkin for some infringement on a patent, or something of that sort.
But he had succumbed at last to Jerrie's beauty, and sprightliness, and originality, and now his love for her had become the absorbing passion of his life, and he would have made her his wife at any moment, in the face of all his mother's opposition.
All the way from the station to the gate Harold was trying to think of something to say besides the merest commonplaces, and wondering at Jerrie's silence. She had seemed glad to see him, he had seen that in her eyes, and seen there something else which puzzled and troubled him, and he was about to ask her what it was when she stopped so abruptly, and said: 'Why didn't you come to Vassar?
But there was a great pity for her boy in her heart as she sat by Jerrie's bedside and watched her in all her varying moods, now perfectly quiet, with her wide open eyes staring up at the ceiling as if she were seeing something there, now talking of Peterkin, and the Tramp House, and the table, and the blow, and again of the bag, which she said was lost, and which her grandmother must find.
The roof was to be raised over Jerrie's room; there was to be a pretty bay-window at the south, commanding a view of the Collingwood grounds and the river. There was to be another window on a side, but whether to the east or the west he could not quite decide.
But something in Jerrie's face, like Arthur's, mastered him, and, stooping down, he kissed the parched lips through which the breath came so hotly, wondering as he did so what Dolly would say if she could see him, a white-haired man of forty-five, kissing a young girl of nineteen, and that girl Jerrie Crawford. 'Thanks, Jerrie said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
Claire who wrote to Harold, for Jerrie's nerveless fingers could not grasp the pen, and she could only dictate what she wished the judge to say. 'Tell him everything, she said, 'and how much I want him here; and tell him, too, of Maude, whose life hangs on a thread. That may bring him sooner.
Poor Dick! every nerve was quivering with pain and disappointment when at last, as the rain began to cease, he rose at Jerrie's suggestion, and offering her his arm, walked silently and sadly with her to the door of the cottage. Here for a moment they stood side by side and hand in hand, until Jerrie said: 'Dick, your friendship has been very dear to me. I do not want to lose it.
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