"
"Aunt Louisa and father make me keep my best to put on for you, if you should
come. I clean up and dress every afternoon at train time, only I forgot today
and came fishing."
"It's too cold to fish, sonny."
"It ain't too cold to fish, but it's too cold for 'em to bite," corrected
Jack.
"Why were you expecting us just now?" asked Susanna. "I did n't write because
.... because, I thought.., perhaps.., it would be better to surprise you."
"Father's expecting you every day, not just this one," said Jack.
Susanna sank down on a stone at the end of the bridge, and leaning her head
against the railing, burst into tears. In that moment the worst of her fears
rolled away from her heart like the stone from the mouth of a sepulcher. If
her husband had looked for her return, he must have missed her, regretted her,
needed her, just a little. His disposition was sweet, even if it were
thoughtless, and he might not meet her with reproaches after all. There might
not be the cold greeting she had often feared-- "_Well, you've concluded to
come back, have you_? _It was about time_!" If only John were a little
penitent, a little anxious to meet her on some common ground, she felt her
task would be an easier one.
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