eved from a weight. My spirits were actually buoyant.
"You should not be so unreasonably gay," said Miss Edith to me. "That
may be your way when you get better acquainted with people, but I am
afraid some of the family will think that you are in such good spirits
because Mrs. Chester now knows that she is a widow."
"Oh, there is no danger of their thinking anything of that sort," I
said. "Don't you suppose they will attribute my good spirits to the
fact that the man who took my bicycle to Waterton brought back my big
valise, so that I am enabled to look like a gentleman in the parlor?
And then, as he also brought word that my bicycle will be all ready
for me to-morrow, don't you think it is to be expected of me that I
should try to make myself as agreeable as possible on this my last
evening with all you good friends?"
She shook her head. "Those excuses will not pass. You are abnormally
cheerful. My study of you is extremely interesting, but not altogether
satisfactory."
CHAPTER XV
MISS WILLOUGHBY
It was decreed the next day that I should not leave until after
dinner. They would send me over to Blackburn Station by a cross-road,
and I could then reach Waterton in less than an hour. "There is
another good thing about this arrangement," said Miss Edith, for it
was she who announced it to me, "and that is that you can take charge
of Amy."
I gazed at her mystified, and she said, "Don't you know that Miss
Willoughby is going in the same train with you?"
"What!" I exclaimed, far too forcibly.
"Yes. Her visit ends to-day. She lives in Waterton. But why should
that affect you so wonderfully? I am sure you cannot object to an hour
in the train with Amy Willoughby. She may talk a good deal, but you
must admit that she talks well."
"Object!" I said. "Of course I don't object. She talks very well
indeed, and I shall be glad to have the pleasure of her company."
"No one would have thought so," she said, looking at me with a
criticising eye, "who had seen you when you heard she was going."
"It was the suddenness," I said.
"Oh yes," she replied, "and your delicate nerves."
In my soul I cried out to myself: "Am I ever to break free from young
women! Is there to be a railroad accident between here and Waterton!
If so, I shall save the nearest old gentleman!"
I believe the Larramies were truly sorry to have me go. Each one of
them in turn told me so. Mrs. Larramie again said to me, with tears in
|