But he evidently
had not.
"Yes--yes," he said eagerly. "You were sayin', Miss Cora, that--"
"Oh, nothing, Ben," she answered quickly. "I think I am really so
happy at having helped Laurel, that I don't know what I am saying."
"Yes, indeed you can well be, Miss," and Ben looked at her with what
Cora thought a strange gaze. Still, she might be mistaken. Then
she made some excuse to stroll away.
Walter had rambled off with Hazel and Bess. The day was now one of
those so wonderful in August, when nature seems tired of her
anxieties, and rests in a perfect ocean of content. The haze had
cleared from the water, the hills were shimmering in the rival
honors of sunlight and shadows, and Cedar Lake from far and near was
glorious. Not a breeze broke the spell:
"No brisk fairy feet, bend the air, strangely sweet,
For nature is wedding her lover!"
This line prompted Cora. Somehow the joy of relief was the one
thing that had ever overcome her, and now, although nothing in all,
the strange things that had happened around her, or had warped the
life of Laurel and her father seemed really cleared away, still
there was that odd look on old Ben's face, there was a new light in
Laurel's eyes, and something like vigor in the voice of Mr. Starr.
Oh, if he could and would only tell about that note! Then
everything else might await time for adjustment.
Cora took Jack and Laurel down under the broken chestnut tree to
tell them about the letter.
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