And he ended, closing with a gentle jest concerning
blue-stockings and rebellious locks of ruddy hair.
And signed his name.
* * * * *
Nina and Eileen, in travelling gowns and veils, stood on the porch at
Silverside, waiting for the depot wagon, when Selwyn's letter was handed
to Eileen.
The girl flushed up, then, avoiding Nina's eyes, turned and entered the
house. Once out of sight, she swiftly mounted to her own room and
dropped, breathless, on the bed, tearing the envelope from end to end.
And from end to end, and back again and over again, she read the
letter--at first in expectancy, lips parted, colour brilliant, then with
the smile still curving her cheeks--but less genuine now--almost
mechanical--until the smile stamped on her stiffening lips faded, and
the soft contours relaxed, and she lifted her eyes, staring into space
with a wistful, questioning lift of the pure brows.
What more had she expected? What more had she desired? Nothing, surely,
of that emotion which she declined to recognise; surely not that
sentiment of which she had admitted her ignorance to him.
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