seamstress's; and of the sudden recollection of it, which, there could
be no question, was what had sent him and his new friend bursting out of
the house and tearing for dear life up the road.
"I'll bet," said he, "that not a minute after you turned into shelter,
they raced by here after you. Now they're kicking their heels at the
sewing-lady's, probably soaked through, and wild to know if you got home
safely. Oh, he's being punished for his sins, never fear."
"I--am sorry for your friend," her voice replied. "And I believe that I
forgive Mr. Hare--now that I know what detained him. I think I must have
heard them go by--just after I got in. Once I was sure I heard voices,
but, of course, I was expecting Mr. Hare to be alone."
"Ha!" thought Varney. "A Hunston romance!"
"You don't know Maginnis," he answered gloomily. "Nobody in the world
ever stays alone long when Maginnis can possibly get to him."
He heard something that he thought might be a faint laugh. And
immediately ten years more came off the lady's age, and she stood at
twenty-two. The young man began to consider with less distaste his
obvious duty of escorting her home.
In the momentary silence, wood somewhere near them once more creaked
loudly and scarily.
"Oh!" came her voice out of the blackness. "Would you mind striking a
match and seeing if there isn't a lamp or something we could light?"
"But I haven't a match--that's just it! If I _had_--! Why I assure you
I've been wishing for nothing so much as a light ever since you--ever
since I came in."
"If I were a man--" she began, vexedly, but suddenly checked herself.
"Are you quite sure you haven't a single _one_?"
"I'll gladly look again in all my twenty-seven pockets. I've been doing
it ever since I arrived, and I've gotten rather to like it. But I'm
awfully afraid it's a wild goose chase."
Crack! Crack! went the mysteriously stirring woodwork, for all the world
like a living thing; and the lady again said "Oh!" And after that she
said: "You are not--in this room, are you?"
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