Then I heard him calling me, and I hurried back.
He held the letter out to me.
"Read it, Helen?" he asked me.
"Please," I said, "just tell me about it. It is her own letter, John, and
meant for you only."
"She tells me I have been the best friend a girl ever had, and that if
she gives me pain it will not be without a pang on her own part. She says
that the object of her being on earth is now revealed to her."
"Yes," I answered, "and then...."
"Then she announces her coming marriage with Dr. Farquhar, the man who
has been in charge of the medical work of the Settlement."
"You must write and tell her how happy you are to hear the good news,
John, and you must tell her our plans. And I want to talk very seriously
to you, John."
"What is it, dear?" he asked.
"Well," I said, "I want to say that you have been very bad, because you
didn't believe me, or you only believed a little bit, when I told you she
didn't love you. Now I expect you to have a great deal of respect for my
opinions, in future."
He promised, and said I was perfectly wonderful, and that he was the
happiest man in the world. And then, Aunt Jennie, we sat again ever so
long without saying more than a few words. And the stillness was like
bars of a wonderful music whose notes one can't remember but which
leaves in one's heart an impression of glorious melody. One can't write
of such things, for I am sure that ink never flowed from a pen able
really to describe that which lies in the hearts of men and women at such
times.
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