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"If you find yourself at any time over at Little Langbourne, we'd be glad to see you. My name's Everard, my place is Buddesby." "Thanks! It is very good of you, and I shan't forget!" He nodded, smiled, and walked on, then glanced back. He could see Johnny fumbling with the car, and he smiled. "That's my hated rival, and he seems a decent sort of chap." An hour later he was back at Mrs.
He asked where Upper Ashton Falls was, and whether it would be a pleasant place to spend a week. The clerk said that it was about thirty miles up the road, and was one of the nicest places in the mountains; Langbourne could not go to a nicer; and there was a very good little hotel. "Why," he said, "there were two ladies here overnight that just left for there, on the seven-forty.
"I will bring the letters this evening, if you will let me if Miss Simpson if you will be at home." "We shall be very happy to see you, Mr. Langbourne," said the girl formally, and then he went back to his hotel. Langbourne could not have told just why he had withdrawn his acceptance of Miss Bingham's invitation.
A laugh came from the next room. It was not muffled, as before, but frank and clear. It was woman's laughter, and Langbourne easily inferred girlhood as well as womanhood from it. His neighbors must have come by the late train, and they had probably begun to talk as soon as they got into their room.
The young man silently shook hands with Langbourne, whom he took into the joke of Miss Bingham with another smile; and she went on: "Say, John, I wish you'd tell Jenny I don't see why we shouldn't go this afternoon, after all." "All right," said the young man. "I suppose you're coming too?" she suggested. "Hadn't heard of it," he returned. "Well, you have now.
"I didn't mean that," Langbourne began. "I but you must think me enough of a simpleton already." "Oh, no, not near," she declared. "I'm a good deal of a simpleton myself at times." "It doesn't matter," he said desperately; "I love you." "Ah, that belongs to the time when you thought I looked differently." "I don't want you to look differently. "You can't expect me to believe that now.
I have heard of your engagement, of course, and I am interested; but we will talk of that when we meet to-morrow night at the gate leading into the field where the big ruined barn stands, about half a mile out of Starden on the Little Langbourne Road at nine o'clock. This is definite and precise, isn't it? It will then be dark enough for you to be unobserved, and you will come.
But he had gone only a few rods when he wheeled about and hurried back. The girl was going up the walk to the house, looking over her shoulder after him; at his hurried return she stopped and came down to the gate again. "Miss Bingham, I think I think I had better not go." "Why, just as you feel about it, Mr. Langbourne," she assented.
He thought, indifferently enough, that this young man had heard the two girls speak of him, and had satisfied a natural curiosity in coming to look him over; it did not occur to him that he had any especial relation to Miss Bingham. She walked up into the village with Langbourne, and he did not know whether he was to accompany her home or not.
"I don't know where to begin exactly; but you must certainly excuse my manner, when I came in." "Oh, certainly," said Langbourne in polite mystification. "It was all through a misunderstanding that I don't think I was to blame for, to say the least; but I can't explain it without making Barbara appear perfectly Mr. Langbourne, will you tell whether you are engaged?" "No!
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