"I've been spending the summer with Madeline, and I've spent most of
it out-of-doors, sketching. Have you been well?"
"Yes--not very; oh yes, I'm well--" She had begun to move forward
with the last question, and he found himself walking with her. "Did
she--has Miss Swan come back with you?" he asked, looking her in the
eyes with more question than he had put into his words.
"No, I don't think she'll come back this winter," said the girl.
"You know," she went on, colouring a little, "that she's married
now?"
"No," said Lemuel.
"Yes. To Mr. Berry. And I have a letter from him for you."
"Was he there with you, this summer?" asked Lemuel, ignoring alike
Berry's marriage and the letter from him.
"Oh yes; of course! And I liked him better than I used to. He is
very good, and if Madeline didn't have to go so far West to live! He
will know how to appreciate her, and there are not many who can do
that! Her father thinks he has a great deal of ability. Yes, if
Madeline _had_ to get married!"
She talked as if convincing and consoling herself, and there was an
accent of loneliness in it all that pierced Lemuel's preoccupation;
he had hardly noted how almost pathetically glad she was to see him.
"You'll miss her here," he ventured.
"Oh, I don't dare to think of it," cried the girl. "I don't know
what I shall do! When I first saw you, just now, it brought up
Madeline and last winter so that it seemed too much to bear!"
They had walked out of the garden across Charles Street, and were
climbing the slope of Beacon Street Mall, in the Common.
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