Part 33 (1/2)
”That--I'll work better if--that--oh, I'm just glad you came back,” and Nancy could not have said anything more, for her face was smothered against Barry's shoulder.
After a little, Barry had to hear all about the rejected ma.n.u.script, the master's letter and the redemption of the Hopworth's. There in the sun-lit orchard a golden world seemed to stretch around them.
”How foolish we used to be,” laughed Nancy, with a rapturous sigh. ”I never doubted but that my first play was going to make my fortune.”
”And I, after facing death in every one of its worst forms, ran away from a pack of fussy women,” added Barry.
”Never mind, let's bury those two children out here under the apple trees and begin real work----”
”Together.”
”Finding the little things to do in our very own corner,” added Nancy, dreamily.
Across the twilight stillness came the familiar whistle that had been the special signal among the three chums at college.
”It's the girls,” cried Nancy. ”Let's go back. I can't bear to have them come here--just now. It's--it's----” she blushed, but met his eyes squarely. ”I want this to be--just ours--for awhile.”
As they walked slowly back to the house, Nancy stopped suddenly in the path.
”Doesn't Happy House look beautiful?” she whispered. And in fact the fading glow of the sun was touching the old walls with a shadowy beauty.
”It seems to speak to one,” added Nancy. She was thinking of that other Anne Leavitt who had come there bravely intent upon building a happy home in the heart of the wilderness. Though she said not a word, in her heart she was making a solemn pledge--that she and Barry, would add, through useful lives, their bit to the traditions of Happy House and the little Island, traditions rich with bravery, sacrifice and loyalty.
Again came the girls' whistle--insistent. Nancy slipped her hand into Barry's.
”Let's hurry.”
Hand in hand they went along the path to the house--and to their future together. As they reached, the edge of Jonathan's raspberry patch Nancy turned with s.h.i.+ning eyes and whispered: ”Pals.”
And Barry, teasingly recalling Nonie's pet plan, answered tenderly: ”Dearest.”
_There is the high, happy spirit of youth in these famous_
BOOKS FOR GIRLS
by JANE D. ABBOTT
BARBERRY GATE
A boy flyer opened the Barberry Gate, closed since the day great-grandfather Colfax locked it, and Winsome learned the romantic story behind it all.
LAUGHING LAST