Then Mary sent out her meaning, risking its decency. "Why, yes, I
would be sorry not to see you again; why should I mind saying so? I
have liked meeting you." And, becoming timid at its appearance, she
hurried after it a cloak that would utterly disguise it. "I meet so
few people," she said.

But George was satisfied; she had said she would mind--nay, even
though she had not spoken it, her manner assured him that indeed she
would regret not again meeting him. It was a thought to hug, a memory
to spur his energies when they flagged over his studies; it was a
brush to paint his world in lively colours.

Nor, as the future occurred, need either have had apprehension that
the children would tell their mother and so set up an insurmountable
barrier between them. A previous experience had warned Angela that it
were wise to keep from her mother joys that were out of the ordinary
run of events.

Returning homeward that day, a little in advance of Mary, she
therefore addressed her brother upon the matter.

"Davie, I hope that man will come to-morrow."

"I hope it, too."

"We won't tell mother, Davie."

"Why?"