"Yes," replied Flo, gravely, and a shadow darkened her eyes. "I ought to
tell you all about it. I will some day. But you must not be made unhappy
now. . . . Glenn nearly died here. Mother or I never left his side--for a
while there--when life was so bad."
She showed Carley how to open the little stove and put the short billets of
wood inside and work the damper; and cautioning her to keep an eye on it so
that it would not get too hot, she left Carley to herself.
Carley found herself in an unfamiliar mood. There came a leap of her heart
every time she thought of the meeting with Glenn, so soon now to be, but it
was not that which was unfamiliar. She seemed to have a difficult approach
to undefined and unusual thoughts. All this was so different from her regular
life. Besides she was tired. But these explanations did not suffice. There
was a pang in her breast which must owe its origin to the fact that Glenn
Kilbourne had been ill in this little room and some other girl than Carley
Burch had nursed him. "Am I jealous?" she whispered. "No!" But she knew in
her heart that she lied. A woman could no more help being jealous, under
such circumstances, than she could help the beat and throb of her blood.
Pages:
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60