The Open Question Part 88

She put her hands up, quickly, to hide her convulsed face. He had forgotten!

"If you don't remember, that's release enough," she said, getting up.

He came forward and put his hand on her arm.

"You don't mean that about your going away from home?"

She nodded her averted head.

"Certainly I won't release you from that promise."

"Why not?" She turned swiftly on him. "What is it to you?"

"It's a great deal to me."

"Well, it's more to me. I've come to say I take my promise back."

He bent down to her.

"You _didn't_ come to say that, Val."

Her wet eyes fell before his softened looks.

"I--I can't say just what I came to say."

"Why not?"

"You're gone so far from me."

"No, I haven't, dear." The dark face was close to hers. "I've tried, perhaps, but I haven't succeeded. Val--"

He drew her suddenly into his arms. She resisted a moment, and then, with a little cry of self-abandonment, she hid her face on his breast.

They stood so till, with an infinitely tender movement, he turned the lithe body over into the hollow of his arm, and kissed the upturned face. She broke away trembling.

"Now I can ask you what I came to ask. Have you been caring about some one else more than you've been caring about me?"

"What in the world put that into your head?"

"You have--you have!" she said, getting white.

"But I have not."

"You like writing to others more than you do to me."

"I don't, indeed. It bores me horribly to write to other people."

"Why do you do it, then?"

"Oh, you're thinking of the letters I write Otway."

"Who?"

"Hezekiah Otway. You see, he's chairman of our--"

She darted forward and seized his hands, laughing and holding them to her breast as she looked up, radiant, into his face.

"Now we'll drive into town, if you please."

They went back to the carriage, and Val talked gayly about the Fort and the people Ethan had known when he was in New Plymouth.

"Where shall we meet to-morrow?" she said, when they were again in the town.

"Where does your Mrs. Ball live?"

"In the Chestnutville suburb. But that's no good."

"No good?"

"No; I've told you she's Miss Jessie Hornsey."

"Is that fatal?"

"Well, she'll want to do all the talking. You can come there of course, but it won't be seeing you."

He considered.

"How long shall you stay?"

"Mustn't be more than three or four days."

He crossed swords with his conscience and still considered.

"You must come in the morning and take me boating," she said.

He laughed.

"Oh, adorable directness! How it simplifies all things! Boating be it."

"We must go quickly to the station for my things; the train I'm due by is just in."

After getting her trunks and travelling-bag, they said good-bye, and Val drove alone to West Walnut Street.

Mrs. Ball received the girl warmly, and with apologies at having only just come in and found her message.

"I'm simply delighted to have got you at last. I only hope you won't find it dull. If you'd given me a little longer notice, I would have had some parties planned, and got Harry Wilbur to come. How is my handsome cousin?"

"Oh, he's all right; and dear Mrs. Ball"--the girl sat down on a stool and crossed her arms on her hostess's knee--"the fact is, I've come on some private business. I haven't time for parties. If you want to be an angel to me, just let me go and come as I please, for the two or three days I'm here."