“What nonsense, my dear,” said Mrs. Waring-Gaunt. “I predict many, many very happy days for you. You have that beautiful gift of bringing your joy with you.”
Jack accompanied them on their way to the road. “Kathleen and I are hoping that perhaps you may be able to come to our wedding. It will be very soon--in a few weeks.”
“Yes, could you, Jane, dear?” said Kathleen. “We should like it above everything else. I know it is a long, long journey, but if you could.”
“Somewhere about the middle of October.” But Jane shook her head disconsolately. By that time she knew she would be deep in her university work, and with Jane work ever came before play.
“I am afraid not,” she said. “But, oh, I do wish you all the happiness in the world. Nothing has ever made me so glad. Oh, but you will be happy, I know. Both of you are so lovely.” A sudden rush of tears filled the deep dark eyes as she shook hands with Jack in farewell. “But,” she cried in sudden rapture, “why not come to us for a day on your wedding trip?”
“That's a splendid idea.” For a moment or two Jack and Kathleen stood looking at each other.
“Jane, we shall surely come. You may count on us,” said Jack.
In the afternoon Mrs. Gwynne sent Jane away for a ride with Larry.
“Just go quietly, Larry,” said his mother. “Don't race and don't tire Jane.”
“I will take care of her,” said Larry, “but I won't promise that we won't race. Jane would not stand for that, you know. Besides she is riding Ginger, and Ginger is not exactly like old Polly. But never fear, we shall have a good ride, Mother,” he added, waving his hand gaily as they rode away, taking the coolee trail to the timber lot.
Larry was in high spirits. He talked of his work for the winter. He was hoping great things from this his last year in college. For the first time in his university career he would be able to give the full term to study. He would be a couple of weeks late on account of Kathleen's marriage, but he would soon make that up. He had his work well in hand and this year he meant to do something worth while. “I should like to take that medal home to Mother,” he said with a laugh. “I just fancy I see her face. She would try awfully hard not to seem proud, but she would just be running over with it.” Jane gave, as ever, a sympathetic hearing but she had little to say, even less than was usual with her. Her smile, however, was as quick and as bright as ever, and Larry chattered on beside her apparently unaware of her silence. Up the coolee and through the woods and back by the dump their trail led them. On the way home they passed the Switzer house.