Mrs. Nelson always went to bed when the time
came for packing, and Carter was late, as usual.
Ruth was glad to be alone. She had passed through too much to be able
to banish all trace of the storm. But though her eyes were red from
recent tears, they were bright with anticipation. Sandy was coming
back. That fact seemed to make everything right.
She leaned her chin on her palm and tried to still the beating of her
heart. She knew he would come. Irresponsible, hot-headed, impulsive
as he was, he had never failed her. She glanced impatiently at the
clock.
"Miss Rufe, was you ever in love?" It was black Rachel who broke in
upon her thoughts. She was standing at the foot of the table, her
round, good-humored face comically serious.
"No-yes. Why, Rachel?" stammered Ruth.
"I was just axin'," said Rachel, "'cause if you been in love, you'd
know how to read a love-letter, wouldn't you, Miss Rufe?"
Ruth smiled and nodded.
"I got one from my beau," went on Rachel, in great embarrassment; "but
dat nigger knows I can't read."
"Where does he live?" asked Ruth.
"Up in Injianapolis. He drives de hearse."
Ruth suppressed a smile. "I'll read the love-letter for you," she
said.
Rachel sat down on the floor and began taking down her hair.
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