She
saw him as he entered the door. There was no mistaking the tall, lithe
figure, the bright hair, the lean, brown-splotched face, the steady gray
eyes. He was dressed for travelling, and carried a light overcoat and a
bag. Straight to him Elnora went speeding.
"Oh, I was just starting to find you!" she cried.
"Thank you!" he said.
"You are going away?" she panted.
"Not if I am needed. I have a few minutes. Can you be telling me
briefly?"
"I am the Limberlost girl to whom your wife gave the dress for
Commencement last spring, and both of you sent lovely gifts. There is a
reason, a very good reason, why I must be hidden for a time, and I came
straight to you--as if I had a right."
"You have!" answered Freckles. "Any boy or girl who ever suffered one
pang in the Limberlost has a claim to the best drop of blood in my
heart. You needn't be telling me anything more. The Angel is at our
cottage on Mackinac. You shall tell her and play with the babies while
you want shelter. This way!"
They breakfasted in a luxurious car, talked over the swamp, the work of
the Bird Woman; Elnora told of her nature lectures in the schools,
and soon they were good friends. In the evening they left the train at
Mackinaw City and crossed the Straits by boat. Sheets of white moonlight
flooded the water and paved a molten path across the breast of it
straight to the face of the moon.
The island lay a dark spot on the silver surface, its tall trees sharply
outlined on the summit, and a million lights blinked around the shore.
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