Then, biting
the smile upon her lips, she held out her hand with a friendly gesture.
"I am quite content that it should be so," she said in a cordial voice. "We
shall be very good neighbours, I fancy, and if you have any trouble with
your crops, don't hesitate to ask for my advice. I've become an excellent
farmer, the Major says, you know." She caught up her long black skirt and
walked on, but when he would have followed, she motioned him back with a
decisive little wave. "You really mustn't--I can't think of allowing it,"
she insisted. "It is putting my neighbours to unheard-of trouble to make
them see me home. Why, if I once begin the custom, I shall soon have old
Rainy-day Jones walking back with me when I go to buy his cows." Still
smiling she passed under the battle-scarred elms and stepped over the
ruined gate into the road.
Leaning against a twisted tree in the old drive, Dan watched her until her
black dress fluttered beyond the crumbled wall. Then he gave a cry that
checked her hastening feet.
"Betty!" he called, and at his voice she turned.
"What is it, dear friend?" she asked, and, standing amid the scattered
stones, looked back at him with pleading eyes.
"Betty!" he cried again, stretching out his arms; and as she ran toward
him, he went down beside the ashes of Chericoke, and lay with his face half
hidden against a broken urn.
"I am coming," called Betty, softly, running over the fallen gate and along
the drive.
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