Лето
VIII
“You’llsaygood-byeformetoVerena?”
Sheheardtheclosingoftheouterdoorandthesoundofhisquicktreadalongthepath.Thelatchofthegateclickedafterhim.
Thenextmorningwhenshearoseinthecolddawnandopenedhershuttersshesawafreckledboystandingontheothersideoftheroadandlookingupather.HewasaboyfromafarmthreeorfourmilesdowntheCrestonroad,andshewonderedwhathewasdoingthereatthathour,andwhyhelookedsohardatherwindow.Whenhesawherhecrossedoverandleanedagainstthegateunconcernedly.Therewasnoonestirringinthehouse,andshethrewashawloverhernight-gownandrandownandletherselfout.Bythetimeshereachedthegatetheboywassaunteringdowntheroad,whistlingcarelessly;butshesawthataletterhadbeenthrustbetweentheslatsandthecrossbarofthegate.Shetookitoutandhastenedbacktoherroom.
Theenvelopeborehername,andinsidewasaleaftornfromapocket-diary.
DEARCHARITY:
Ican’tgoawaylikethis.IamstayingforafewdaysatCrestonRiver.WillyoucomedownandmeetmeatCrestonpool?Iwillwaitforyoutillevening.
