Part 27 (1/2)
”It _must--be--the_--wallet!”
Now it was Sabrina who cried out--a protesting, frightened cry. For a moment she staggered as though she was going to fall; Nancy's strong arm went closely around her.
”Look quickly, dear Aunt Sabrina,” Nancy implored.
With trembling fingers Aunt Sabrina opened it--within lay mouldy, age-worn bank-notes--many of them!
”It must have fallen behind the mantel in that other storm,” cried Nancy. Then a great joy shone in her face. ”He _didn't_ take it--Anne's grandfather!” she stopped abruptly. But Miss Sabrina had not even heard her, and Peter was too mystified by the whole thing to think Nancy's words strange. Miss Sabrina turned, with a stricken face.
”Anne--I--I can't think! What--what--wrong--have I done? Oh, G.o.d forgive me!” She threw her arms up over her head. Her grief was terrible because it was strange. Even Nancy, frightened, drew away.
”Oh, G.o.d, give back the years----” she moaned.
”It--is--too--late.” She lifted a white, frightened face. ”I must---be alone! Don't let anyone disturb me. Tell them, Anne--tell them--everything!” And with the wallet in her hand she went quickly but of the room.
Nancy turned to Peter, a triumph in her manner that was in strange contrast to Miss Sabrina's sorrow. She held her hand out toward the broken marble.
”_What_ a story!” she cried, ”over two generations that ugly old mantel concealed the vindication of a man's honor!” Then, laughing at Peter's puzzled face, she told him briefly the story of the trouble that had hung over Happy House shadowing and embittering the lives of those beneath its roof.
”And, Peter, it has gone with the storm! Oh, you don't know what that means!” she cried, because Peter _could_ not know that she did not rejoice for herself, but because, now, there need be no barriers between Happy House and her own dear Anne--the real Anne Leavitt.
”After awhile--it _will_ be Happy House,” she ended, enigmatically.
She walked with him to the door.
”What a day it has been,” she laughed, catching her breath. ”I feel as though it had been weeks ago that we started off! I've forgotten how wet we were,” she pulled at her blouse. ”Run away now, Peter, for I must break the wonderful news to Aunt Milly and B'lindy, and, as B'lindy would say--”there's a pile of work's got to be done!”
”Nancy, the day isn't over yet!” Peter hesitated. ”There's going to be a gorgeous sunset to-night--won't you come into the orchard--just for a little while?”
”Silly--haven't you seen enough of me for one day?”
His look spoke more eloquently than could any words.
”_I_ have something to tell _you_!” he said, gravely.
CHAPTER XXIV
PETER
Nancy knew, with the instinct of a heart unfamiliar with coquetry, what Peter had to tell her!
She had wanted dreadfully to have to stay away from the orchard--she had hoped that Aunt Milly might need her, but Aunt Milly had gone to bed directly after supper, exhausted by the day's happenings. Aunt Sabrina's door had been shut ever since, with the wallet, she had gone into her room, and from within no sound betrayed her tragedy. B'lindy was fiercely struggling, with mop and broom, to remove all traces of the ”curse” from Happy House. ”Now just keep out of my way! I'm that upset,” she answered Nancy, shortly.
The sunset was gorgeous. It flooded the garden with a soft, flaming golden light.
Like all girls, Nancy had had her dream of that time when her Knight should come riding to her; like all girls her dream-Knight was a pleasantly hazy individual, changing with her changing moods. And she had not wanted him to come quickly. Her young freedom was very precious to her.
One or two others had proposed to Nancy in hot-headed, boyish fas.h.i.+on.