"You think he will?"
"Yes, I think he will."
She opened her lips to say "When?" but some astute sense had come to her of how far she could go. She contented herself with a haughty lifting of the head.
"In my young days--"
"Yes, yes, but things aren"t always so simple now. Oh, haven"t you any faith in me, or in Ethan either?"
"My faith has had a rude shock."
"That was only because I didn"t take you into my confidence. But don"t you know there are some things it"s hard to tell to older people? Oh, _don"t you remember_, grandmamma!" the girl cried.
"H"m!" but the face gradually softened.
"Give us a little time, and it"ll all come right. You don"t want to get rid of me instantly, do you?"
"You know quite well--"
"Yes, yes, you"d like us to be old maids, but I--" she shook her head in the manner of one regretfully declining an impossible request. "May I shut the door?"
"Yes."
She came back, sat down on the crimson footstool at the side of the chair, and laid her head on the arm.
"Please be kind to me," she said; "it"s very lonely here at the Fort when you aren"t kind." Neither moved for several moments, and then Val felt the touch on her hair. The tears rushed suddenly into her eyes. She took the hand and kissed it. "How beautiful your hands are!" she said, laying her cheek in the palm, and then raising her head to look again.
"The inside is the color and the texture of a rose-leaf."
"Is that the kind of thing Ethan has been saying to you?" The inquiry rang a little grimly.
"Oh no," Val laughed. "He couldn"t. _My_ hands aren"t beautiful." They were quiet awhile. "I haven"t much that I can tell you, dear," the girl went on, "but that I"m very happy--oh, the happiest person in the world!" She smiled up into the vigilant old face. "And that in the end I shall have what--what I"ve wanted since I was sixteen--oh, ever since I was born, I think." She lowered her eyes, and the red came into her cheeks.
"And Ethan?"
"Oh, he"s happy, too. But that"s not the part _I_ can tell you."
"Where is he? What is he going to do?"
"He"s got a great burden of responsibility on him just now, with the elections coming on. He"s going to the Chicago Convention, you know."
"H"m! Well, I don"t pretend to fathom those newfangled arrangements--but understand one thing--"
"Yes?"
"I won"t have him here till there"s a formal announcement."
"Very well, dear." But the bright face fell.
CHAPTER x.x.xI
It was a little over a year after this that Mrs. Gano"s life was despaired of.
"A complication of troubles, no one of them very serious, but all together, and at her age--"
The doctor completed the sentence with a gesture.
The next day Ethan stood with his cousins at the bedside.
"I did not send for you," was Mrs. Gano"s greeting.
"No; Val did," volunteered Emmie, who had not been told the result of the doctor"s consultation.
"_Val_"--the sick woman raised her head--"you take a great deal upon yourself."
She sank back exhausted. Val could not read in Ethan"s eyes that he had abandoned hope. But the girl"s heart was full of dread. She went softly out of the room.
"Oh, grandma, you"ve hurt her feelings," said Emmie, gently.
"Nonsense!"
"I saw tears in her eyes. Think of Val crying!"
"It"s no great affair that one should cry now and then. Perhaps it"s just as well that you"ve come, after all." She fixed a far from hospitable look upon her grandson. "I was about to write you. Leave us awhile, Emmeline." She closed her eyes as the girl went out, as if to summon strength. "I don"t approve of the tone of your last letter to Val."
Ethan stared.
"Oh, she reads me parts still. She reads me a great deal. The tone of the later ones, especially the last--"
She shook her head with a weak, slow movement.
"I am sorry you think--"
"We haven"t time to waste being sorry; let us be different." With sudden energy she pulled out one page of a letter from under her pillow. "I haven"t eyesight to read your shocking writing, my dear--"
"No, no; don"t try. I remember what you mean. I won"t make fun of the Churchman in politics any more--not in my letters. I apologize to the bishop."
"Oh, _that_"--she smiled--"that was rather amusing, though not in the best taste. No; what I mean was on the last page. Read from "whom the G.o.ds love.""
"Do you mean this quotation?"
"Yes."
""Life, though a good to men on the whole, is a doubtful good to many, and to some not a good at all." Is that it?"
"Yes. What"s the rest?"