"That was only a slight aberration of his; he knew better all the
time. It was your white cloak and my idiotic behavior the night we
went to the opera that put the idea into his head," said Polly,
feeling as if the events of that evening had happened some twenty
years ago, when she was a giddy young thing, fond of gay bonnets
and girlish pranks.
"I 'm not going to tell Tom a word about it, but keep it for a
surprise till he comes. He will be here next week, and then we 'll
have a grand clearing up of mysteries," said Fan, evidently feeling
that the millennium was at hand.
"Perhaps," said Polly, as her heart fluttered and then sunk, for this
was a case where she could do nothing but hope, and keep her
hands busy with Will's new set of shirts.
There is a good deal more of this sort of silent suffering than the
world suspects, for the "women who dare" are few, the women
who "stand and wait" are many. But if work-baskets were gifted
with powers of speech, they could tell stories more true and tender
than any we read.
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