Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 9, 2025
The boy took the silver and gave up the bag, casting a furtive glance at Sylvia. "Ye don't want me to come back for yer to-morrer?" he said. "No, thank you, Benny. Good-by." She gave him an April smile, and he returned to the boat muttering to himself, his fist clenched and restless. The girl met Thinkright's kind, questioning look.
"I'm going to paint such a lovely picture of you this summer, dear," she said, studying his face fondly. "Of me? Oh, no." "Oh, yes. I won't admit that any one else can paint such a likeness of you as I can." "I hear good reports of your work." "My own reports?" she laughed. "No. Calvin's, Edna's, Mr. Dunham's." "John's, Mr. Dunham's?" Thinkright's answer was rather slow in coming, she thought.
Sylvia had seen no home in the vicinity beside the farmhouse, and the familiar mention of Miss Lacey made it doubly certain that this low-voiced stranger, this girl whose broad a's and lack of r's sounded oddly upon Sylvia's Western ears, was going fast as her trim feet could carry her to Thinkright's home. A strange feeling beset Sylvia.
Sylvia was reticent even in the presence of Edna Derwent, and this silence could not proceed from snobbishness; moreover, her spirits rose after the departure of the Boston girl, and Mrs. Lem decided that Thinkright's guest was, in spite of her slim height and the dignity of her black garments, only a shy girl who needed encouraging.
Something of an intimate nature must have passed between them. To what could "the rosy cloud" have reference which should bring such conscious color to Sylvia's softly rounded cheek? Miss Lacey shook her head. "If I only had Thinkright's chance," she thought, "I'd find out; but men are so queer. Probably he won't make the least effort. Provoking!" She was correct in her suspicion.
"Then I'm going, am I, Thinkright?" asked Sylvia, her eyes appealing to him as she rose. "Of course you're going," put in the judge authoritatively. "I've had no visit with you yet." "All right," returned Sylvia, smiling faintly at her uncle; but she took Thinkright's arm. "I'll meet you in half an hour," she said to the other men, and started toward the house, with her cousin captive.
"I've just been wondering who I could get to sail Mr. Johnson's boat back to the farm." Edna's eyelids lifted. She wondered if her old friend had determined to invite himself. "You know where the Tide Mill is, I suppose?" went on Dunham, for Benny looked unillumined. "It is Thinkright's boat he wishes to have sailed back," said Edna. "Oh, yes," answered Benny. "I know."
Long-repressed tears were rising scaldingly to her eyes when she heard a light tap on her door. It might be she! She shouldn't come in! With a light bound Sylvia was at the door, pressing upon it. "Who is it?" she demanded in a choked voice. It was Thinkright's voice that answered her. "Gone to bed, or sitting up, little one?" he asked.
For a few moments Sylvia sat absorbed in her train of thought, and suddenly coming to herself, found the stranger's intent gaze upon her. He noted her sudden embarrassment, and hastened to speak. "Thinkright's worst enemy could never accuse him of preaching what he does not practice," he said. "Has he any enemies?" "He's liable to have one in me."
She found herself gaining a consciousness of that peace, a faith in the care of a Father for His children which was the motive power of Thinkright's life. That she had found her cousin, and been guided to him, was to her an undoubted proof and corroboration of much that Thinkright told her.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking