She heard the hoarse whistle of a steamer on
the lake; the rooks were cawing in the elm-tree over the roof, and she
fell asleep again.
"Good-morning, Rip Van Winkle," said May, when she entered the
breakfast-room.
"Why, is that clock--just look at the time! I forgot to wind my watch
last night, and I hadn't the faintest idea what time it was when I got
up this morning!"
"Good-bye for to-night, Beth," he had said, and he was going away
to-morrow morning, so he would surely come to-day. No wonder she went
about with an absent smile on her face, and did everything in the
craziest possible way. It was so precious, this newly-found secret of
hers! She knew her own heart now. There was no possibility of her
misunderstanding herself in the future. The afternoon was wearing away,
and she sat waiting and listening. Ding! No, that was only a
beggar-woman at the door. Ding, again! Yes, that was Arthur! Then she
grew frightened. How could she look into his eyes? He would read her
secret there. He sat down before her, and a formal coldness seemed to
paralyze them both.
"I have come to bid you good-bye, Miss Woodburn!"
Miss Woodburn! He had never called her that before.
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