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Harry Goward was looking quite cheerful again, but he said, in a worried tone, that he hoped I wouldn't forget, because it was very, very important. Then I dismissed him with a haughty bow, the way they do on the stage, and this time he put his hat on and really went.
"He was a coward," said Goward, with a positiveness born of conviction. And with that remark Goward took his place in my affections.
At this point Aunt Elizabeth, with her red hair and pink frock, had interfered and lured off the Goward, who behaved in a manner which appeared to me to reduce him to a negligible quantity.
To sit down, in short, you've GOT to sit there; there isn't another square inch of the whole place over which you haven't got, as everything shrieks at you, to step lively. Poor Goward, I could see at a glance, wanted very much to sit down looked indeed very much as if he wanted never, NEVER again to get up.
Nevertheless, I addressed him coldly. "Mr. Goward," I said, when the first greetings were over, "this is a most unfortunate affair." "It is terrible," he groaned, pacing the thin-carpeted floor like a poor caged beast in the narrow confines of the Zoo. "You don't need to tell me how unfortunate it all is." "As a matter of fact," I went on, "I don't exactly recall a similar case in my experience.
I started after him to tell him so, but he made a face at me and ran; and just then Aunt Elizabeth came along the hall and dragged me up to her room and began to ask me all over again about Mr. Goward and all that he said whether I was perfectly SURE he didn't mention any name. She looked worried and unhappy.
I believe I am not without self-possession myself, partly natural, and partly acquired by living so long with Tom; but it took all I ever had not to utter a womanish cry when the young man turned his face and I saw that it was Harry Goward. The boy's glance swept us all in. When it reached Aunt Elizabeth and Dr.
The early morning train I came on from New York, the one that ought to get in at Eastridge at eleven, was derailed two hours ago on a misplaced switch between here and Whitman. No one was killed, but many of the passengers were injured. Among the injured I took care of was Mr. Goward. His arm has been broken. He's been badly shaken up and he's now in a state of shock at the Whitman Hospital.
I believe there is a boy in there that knows you name of Goward." "Yes," she said, rather faintly, looking down again, but not changing color. "Peggy," I asked, "do you still think now, and answer truly do you still HATE him?" She waited a moment, and then lifted her clear blue eyes to mine. "No, Uncle Gerrit, I don't hate him half as much as I hate myself. Really, I don't hate him at all.
I tried to tell myself that it would be better for every one to find out now than later if Henry Goward was not worthy to be Peggy's husband. But, oh, for all their sakes, how I hoped this cloud, whatever it was, would blow over!
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