"I shall see you Christmas Eve," I said, "wherever
you may be."
"In three days? Then you will come to my Christmas
Eve party. I shall be delighted to see you,-and
flattered! Just think of throwing away a fortune to
satisfy one's curiosity! I'm surprised at you, but gratified,
on the whole, Mr. Glenarm!"
"I shall give more than a fortune, I shall give the
honor I have pledged to my grandfather's memory to
hear your voice again."
"That is a great deal,-for so small a voice; but
money, fortune! A man will risk his honor readily
enough, but his fortune is a more serious matter. I'm
sorry we shall not meet again. It would be pleasant to
discuss the subject further. It interests me particularly."
"In three days I shall see you," I said.
She was instantly grave.
"No! Please do not try. It would be a great mistake.
And, anyhow, you can hardly come to my party
without being invited."
"That matter is closed. Wherever you are on Christmas
Eve I shall find you," I said, and felt my heart
leap, knowing that I meant what I said.
"Good-by," she said, turning away. "I'm sorry I
shan't ever chase rabbits at Glenarm any more."
"Or paddle a canoe, or play wonderful celestial music
on the organ."
"Or be an eavesdropper or hear pleasant words from
the master of Glenarm-"
"But I don't know where you are going-you haven't
told me anything-you are slipping out into the
world-"
She did not hear or would not answer. She turned
away, and was at once surrounded by a laughing throng
that crowded about the train. Two brown-robed Sisters
stood like sentinels, one at either side, as she stepped
into the car. I was conscious of a feeling that from the
depths of their hoods they regarded me with un-Christian
disdain. Through the windows I could see the
students fluttering to seats, and the girl in gray seemed
to be marshaling them. The gray hat appeared at a
window for an instant, and a smiling face gladdened, I
am sure, the guardians of the peace at St. Agatha's, for
whom it was intended.
The last trunk crashed into the baggage car, every
window framed for a moment a girl's face, and the
train was gone.