Worcester Democrat and the ledger-enterprise. (Pocomoke City, Md.) 1921-1953, 1940-05-10
CHAPTER 8


she knocked, so that she looked up,
startled, into his smiling face, for
getting the things she had meant to
say, the greeting she had figured out
so carefully. Saying his name in
stead, with an odd breathlessness.
Brent drew her forward into the
warmth of the room, into the light.
He said, his hands still clasping hers,
"Sara, it's great to see you! And you
haven't changed"
She hadn't changed. She was mere
ly more beautiful than he had remem-
bered, more vivid, more alive. Her
cheeks were flushed with cold, her
eyes darkly bright by contrast.
Brent called across his shoulder,
"Gran, here's Sara"
Abigail came in, wiping her floury
hands on her apron. Abigail had been
making biscuits for supper. She ex-
claimed fondly, "Well, take off your
things, child, and get warm! I'd been
wondering whether you'd forgotten
me-"
Sara's cool, firm lips brushed her
cheek. GAS though could, Mrs. Ran
dolph! But I knew how much you
and Brent would have to talk about"
She slipped out of her jacket with
its upturned parka, gave her brown
curls a casual pat. Between her and
Brent was none of the stiffness and
strain she had anticipated with such
dread. Here was no stranger, but
the same quiet, rather grave boy she
had known and loved so long ago.
Whom she still loved. In her heart
Sara admitted it frankly They
sat there, talking and laughing, Abb
gail and Sara and Brent. And the
fire cracked on the hearth and the
night grew darker. Brent had chang
ed, Sara realized, growing accustom-
ed to his nearness, studying him more
closely under cover of their easy talk.
He looked older, little thinner, and
there were lines of restraint or weari-
ness at the corners of his mouth. But
he seemed genuinely glad to see her.
At the thought, hope sprang up in
Sara, who had thought never to hope
again.
"Stop for SUPPER" Abigail COM
manded. eff your mother knew you
were stopping by, she won't worry.
She'll know I'd try to keep YOU"
Brent said, "Gran, that's an inspir-
alton. And We'll eat by the fire. I'll
bring in the table,"
They fingered iong over >hC sim
pie, yet delicious, meal. And when
they were through at last, Sara and
b'trt insisted upon loing the ii-kes.
Brcnt accused his grandmother,
SYou work too ha"is anywa.'. think
yet SHOULD get :. cir! to helr you"
Abigail said, Nonsense. If l had
!, CIR, to do the work, what would l
Gr:"
But she allowed herself to be per-
suaded to sit on before the smolder-
ing fire, while from the little kitchen
came laughing voices and the clatter
Of china and silver. The homely
sounds lulled her, so that she nodded
and reused and siept again. Not since
his arrival lad Brent seemed ST. like
his old, normal self. And Abigail was
clad.
She was awakened suddenly by |
someone pounding or the outer door
aud stumbled to her feet confusedly, |
~ wing tnwd..l the sound 10y instinct |
:! e was va~:.'-'y WARE of BIN; and |
Sara. coming til ough the doorway be-
F:,ld her, o. E:a.. voice, exclaimiE. |
'E'ho on ~ ~ can 1t be at t! is |
Il. ur?" She puH I'd open the 10 r nd
looked.
Cal Tate stood there, bulky and
familiar in his old coonskin coat, and
beside him was girl, slim, fair
girl Abigail had never seen before, a
girl whose teeth were chattering,
whose eyes were wide and dark and
seeking in white face, pinched with
cold.
Cal was saying heartily, Its
Brent's wife, Miz Randolph. Imagine
that sly fox holding out on us She
got in on the ten o'clock an just
happened to be down to the depot"
Brent was beside his grandmother
then. And the girl was in his arms,
her face pressed close to his as he
hale Jyauy bo1f lifted bar into the