Part 29 (1/2)

She said no more until they were in the privacy of her own bedroom.

She placed the trembling visitor in a chair by the window, where occasional bursts of sunlight came through the soft muslin curtains.

Then she drew up another chair and sat close beside her.

”Arabella,” she said, ”you've heard from him?”

Miss Arabella hung her head like a schoolgirl caught in a naughty prank. ”Yes,” she whispered guiltily.

Elsie flung her arms about the little wet figure. ”Oh, Arabella, dear, I'm so glad! I'm so glad! Now aren't you glad I wouldn't let you give me the dress? Is he coming home?”

”Yes.”

”When?”

”Next summer--in June.”

”Oh! And is he well? Where does he live? And why didn't--oh, tell me all about it!”

The sympathetic joy was bringing the tears to Miss Arabella's eyes again. ”Oh, Elsie, you're so awful good! I--would you--would it look kind o' foolish if I was to let you read his letter?”

”Not a bit, if you don't mind, you know. I'd really love to see it,”

she confessed honestly.

Miss Arabella threw back her shawl and carefully unrolled the blue silk. She took the letter from its folds and then hesitated. ”Mebby,”

she began breathlessly, ”I--perhaps I'd better read it to you, Elsie--because there's parts, you know, that might sound--foolish.”

She looked at the girl apologetically.

”Of course, Arabella, I understand.” Elsie pushed the letter back into her hand. ”After all, no third person ought to see a love-letter, you know.”

Much a.s.sured, and still blus.h.i.+ng and stammering, Miss Arabella read aloud a few of the more practical details of the letter. She pa.s.sed tremulously over the tender pa.s.sages, and she also omitted the part about Martin's receiving help from a friend. Somehow, her jealous pride in him forbade that another should know he had not succeeded unaided.

”Poor little Arabella,” whispered the girl when it was finished. ”And it's coming true at last. And what a nice name he's got--Martin--what's the rest of it?”

”Martin Heaslip,” whispered Arabella, as though afraid to utter it.

”Martin Heaslip--I like the sound of it. And he's rich, too. Why, it seems too good to be true.”

Miss Arabella glanced up quickly, and a look of apprehension came over her radiant face. ”That's just what I can't help thinking, Elsie.

Don't it seem too good to happen to me?”

”Pooh! Nonsense!” laughed the other, with the sure hopefulness of youth. ”Of course it'll happen. You must take your dress to Mrs. Long right away, and she and Ella Anne----”

”No! no! _no_!” Miss Arabella sat up straight, her eyes dilated with fear. ”No, n.o.body's to know a whisper about it. Not anybody! Mind, Elsie, you promised. Oh, Elsie, you did!”

”Yes, yes, Arabella!” cried the girl, alarmed at the agitation she had aroused. ”But who's to make your dress and give you a wedding? They must all know some time.”

”No, there's n.o.body to know until it's all over. Once, just after he went West, he wrote and ast me to come out, an' he sent the money, an'--an'--Susan wouldn't let me go! She made me send the money back.

She said I wasn't strong enough to go out and live there, and--she--meant it for kindness, you know, Elsie, but--he--I guess he felt bad.” Miss Arabella carefully covered the blue silk from harm, for the tears were dropping again. ”Anyhow, it, made him think he'd got to get things fixed up awful grand for me, or else he'd 'a' sent for me long ago. And Susan wouldn't let me go this time--I know she wouldn't. She'd say I was too old for such foolishness. Do you think I look awful old, Elsie?” she asked piteously.

”Oh, Arabella, dear! No! no! You look young and as pretty as a picture!” she exclaimed, truthfully. ”But, Arabella”--her brow puckered worriedly--”if no one knows, how are you going to do it?”