Melisse saw him drive in from the Churchill trail; but while her
heart fluttered excitedly, she steeled herself to meet him with at
least an equal show of the calm indifference with which he had left
her six weeks before. The coolness of his leave-taking still rankled
bitterly in her bosom. He had not kissed her; he had not even passed
his last evening with her.
But she was not prepared for the changed Jan Thoreau who came slowly
through the cabin door. His hair and beard had grown, covering the
smooth cheeks which he had always kept closely shaven. His eyes glowed
with dull pleasure as she stood waiting for him, but there was none of
the old flash and fire in them. There was a strangeness in his manner,
an uneasiness in the shifting of his eyes, which caused the half-
defiant flush to fade slowly from her cheeks before either had spoken.
She had never known this Jan before, and her fortitude left her as she
approached him, wonderingly, silent, her hands reaching out to him.
"Jan!" she said.
Her voice trembled; her lips quivered. There was the old glorious
pleading in her eyes, and before it Jan bowed his unkempt head, and
crushed her hands tightly in his own. For a half-minute there was
silence, and in that half-minute there came a century between them.
Pages:
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175