Marjorie's quick feet hurried along the street. She found herself at the
depot with not one moment to lose. She had brought her "English
Literature" that she might read Tuesday's lesson in the train. She opened
it as the train started, and was soon so absorbed that she was startled
at a voice inquiring, "Is this seat engaged?"
"No," she replied, without raising her eyes. But there was something
familiar in the voice; or was she thinking of somebody? She moved
slightly as a gentleman seated himself beside her. Her veil was shading
her face; she pushed it back to give a quick glance at him. The voice had
been familiar; there was still something more familiar in the hair, the
contour of the cheek, and the blonde moustache.
"Hollis!" she exclaimed, as his eyes looked into hers. She caught her
breath a little, hardly knowing whether she were glad or sorry.
"Why, Marjorie!" he returned, surprise and embarrassment mingled in his
voice. He did not seem sure, either, whether to be glad or sorry.
For several moments neither spoke; both were too shy and too conscious of
something uncomfortable.
"It isn't so very remarkable to find you here, I suppose," he remarked,
after considering for some time an advertisement in a daily paper which
he held in his hand.
"No, nor so strange to encounter you."
"You have not been home for some time."
"Not since I came in September."
"And I have not since Will's wedding day. There was a shower that night,
and your mother tried to keep me; and I wished she had more than a few
times on my dark way home.
Pages:
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326