Nanny watched him
and as she watched there was born in her heart a new fear and torture.
She realized that some day love would come to Cynthia's son and feared
that she would have to stand by unseen and forgotten.
So then she began to distrust those of her feminine guests who smiled
at him and chatted with him. And as soon as she decently could she
sent all her company packing. When they were gone she knew beyond any
possibility of doubt that she loved him and would always love him and
that the vengeance that her father had predicted had overtaken her.
The very next time Cynthia's son came he found the house quiet and
Nanny alone.
"Are they all gone?" he asked.
"Yes," she told him.
"When is your next crowd coming?" he wondered.
"There aren't going to be any more crowds," Nanny informed him.
"That's nice. It's pleasanter this way."
Nanny's poor heart longed to ask why but it dared not.
So then she drifted and didn't care. Though she prayed a little
miserably at times for peace and a home shore. They seemed to meet by
accident on the sunny summer roads and whenever they did they strolled
on aimlessly but contented. Because she was now so quiet and kind he
told her things that he had never told to any one else.
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