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“
I
know
the
way
you
must
feel
about
me
,
”
she
broke
out
,
“
.
.
.
telling
you
such
things
.
.
.
.
”
But
once
more
,
as
she
spoke
,
she
became
aware
that
he
was
no
longer
listening
.
He
came
close
and
caught
her
to
him
as
if
he
were
snatching
her
from
some
imminent
peril
:
his
impetuous
eyes
were
in
hers
,
and
she
could
feel
the
hard
beat
of
his
heart
as
he
held
her
against
it
.
“
Kiss
me
again
—
like
last
night
,
”
he
said
,
pushing
her
hair
back
as
if
to
draw
her
whole
face
up
into
his
kiss
.
ONE
afternoon
toward
the
end
of
August
a
group
of
girls
sat
in
a
room
at
Miss
Hatchard
’
s
in
a
gay
confusion
of
flags
,
turkey
-
red
,
blue
and
white
paper
muslin
,
harvest
sheaves
and
illuminated
scrolls
.
North
Dormer
was
preparing
for
its
Old
Home
Week
.
That
form
of
sentimental
decentralization
was
still
in
its
early
stages
,
and
,
precedents
being
few
,
and
the
desire
to
set
an
example
contagious
,
the
matter
had
become
a
subject
of
prolonged
and
passionate
discussion
under
Miss
Hatchard
’
s
roof
.
The
incentive
to
the
celebration
had
come
rather
from
those
who
had
left
North
Dormer
than
from
those
who
had
been
obliged
to
stay
there
,
and
there
was
some
difficulty
in
rousing
the
village
to
the
proper
state
of
enthusiasm
.
But
Miss
Hatchard
’
s
pale
prim
drawing
-
room
was
the
centre
of
constant
comings
and
goings
from
Hepburn
,
Nettleton
,
Springfield
and
even
more
distant
cities
;
and
whenever
a
visitor
arrived
he
was
led
across
the
hall
,
and
treated
to
a
glimpse
of
the
group
of
girls
deep
in
their
pretty
preparations
.
“
All
the
old
names
.
.
.
all
the
old
names
.
.
.
.
”
Miss
Hatchard
would
be
heard
,
tapping
across
the
hall
on
her
crutches
.
“
Targatt
.
.
.
Sollas
.
.
.
Fry
:
this
is
Miss
Orma
Fry
sewing
the
stars
on
the
drapery
for
the
organ
-
loft
.
Don
’
t
move
,
girls
.
.
.
and
this
is
Miss
Ally
Hawes
,
our
cleverest
needle
-
woman
.
.
.
and
Miss
Charity
Royall
making
our
garlands
of
evergreen
.
.
.
.
I
like
the
idea
of
its
all
being
homemade
,
don
’
t
you
?
We
haven
’
t
had
to
call
in
any
foreign
talent
:
my
young
cousin
Lucius
Harney
,
the
architect
—
you
know
he
’
s
up
here
preparing
a
book
on
Colonial
houses
—
he
’
s
taken
the
whole
thing
in
hand
so
cleverly
;
but
you
must
come
and
see
his
sketch
for
the
stage
we
’
re
going
to
put
up
in
the
Town
Hall
.
”
One
of
the
first
results
of
the
Old
Home
Week
agitation
had
,
in
fact
,
been
the
reappearance
of
Lucius
Harney
in
the
village
street
.
He
had
been
vaguely
spoken
of
as
being
not
far
off
,
but
for
some
weeks
past
no
one
had
seen
him
at
North
Dormer
,
and
there
was
a
recent
report
of
his
having
left
Creston
River
,
where
he
was
said
to
have
been
staying
,
and
gone
away
from
the
neighbourhood
for
good
.
Soon
after
Miss
Hatchard
’
s
return
,
however
,
he
came
back
to
his
old
quarters
in
her
house
,
and
began
to
take
a
leading
part
in
the
planning
of
the
festivities
.
He
threw
himself
into
the
idea
with
extraordinary
good
-
humour
,
and
was
so
prodigal
of
sketches
,
and
so
inexhaustible
in
devices
,
that
he
gave
an
immediate
impetus
to
the
rather
languid
movement
,
and
infected
the
whole
village
with
his
enthusiasm
.
“
Lucius
has
such
a
feeling
for
the
past
that
he
has
roused
us
all
to
a
sense
of
our
privileges
,
”
Miss
Hatchard
would
say
,
lingering
on
the
last
word
,
which
was
a
favourite
one
.
And
before
leading
her
visitor
back
to
the
drawing
-
room
she
would
repeat
,
for
the
hundredth
time
,
that
she
supposed
he
thought
it
very
bold
of
little
North
Dormer
to
start
up
and
have
a
Home
Week
of
its
own
,
when
so
many
bigger
places
hadn
’
t
thought
of
it
yet
;
but
that
,
after
all
,
Associations
counted
more
than
the
size
of
the
population
,
didn
’
t
they
?
And
of
course
North
Dormer
was
so
full
of
Associations
.
.
.
historic
,
literary
(
here
a
filial
sigh
for
Honorius
)
and
ecclesiastical
.
.
.
he
knew
about
the
old
pewter
communion
service
imported
from
England
in
1769
,
she
supposed
?
And
it
was
so
important
,
in
a
wealthy
materialistic
age
,
to
set
the
example
of
reverting
to
the
old
ideals
,
the
family
and
the
homestead
,
and
so
on
.
This
peroration
usually
carried
her
half
-
way
back
across
the
hall
,
leaving
the
girls
to
return
to
their
interrupted
activities
.
