t she had been greatly encouraged in her efforts to make
something more of him than even his best friends predicted could be
done; but she had never for one instant intended that her friendly
interest should go any further, nor could she have conceived of such an
issue.

And yet Jane did nothing to prevent the meetings and outings of the
young couple, even after Maria's and Max's departure.

When Martha, in her own ever-increasing anxiety, spoke of the growing
intimacy she looked grave, but she gave no indication of her own
thoughts. Her pride prevented her discussing the situation with the old
nurse and her love for Lucy from intervening in her pleasures.

"She has been cooped up at school so long, Martha, dear," she answered
in extenuation, "that I hate to interfere in anything she wants to do.
She is very happy; let her alone. I wish, though, she would return some
of the calls of these good people who have been so kind to her. Perhaps
she will if you speak to her. But don't worry about Bart; that will
wear itself out. All young girls must have their love-affairs."

Jane's voice had lacked the ring of true sincerity when she spoke about
"wearing itself out," and Martha had gone to her room more dissatisfied
than before. This feeling became all the more intense when, the next
day, from her window she watched Bart tying on Lucy's hat, puffing out
the big bow under her chin, smoothing her hair from the flying strings.
Lucy's eyes were dancing, her face turned toward Bart's, her pretty
lips near his own. There was a knot or a twist, or a collection of
knots and twists, or perhaps Bart's fingers bungled, for minutes passed
before the hat could be fastened to suit either of them. Martha's head
had all this time been thrust out of the easement, her gaze apparently
fixed on a birdcage hung from a hook near the shutter.

Bart caught her eye and whispered to Lucy that that "old spy-cat" was
watching them; whereupon Lucy faced about, waved her hand to the old
nurse, and turning quickly, raced up the orchard and out of sight,
followed by Bart carrying a shawl for them to sit upon.

After that Martha, unconsciously, perhaps, to herself, kept watch, so
far as she could, upon their movements, without, as she thought,
betraying herself: making excuses to go to the village when they two
went off together in that direction; traversing the orchard, ostensibly
looking for Meg when she knew all the time that the dog was sound
asleep