"
"You cannot tell too much. Claudia! Claudia!"
Overhead the birds chirped sleepily and one by one the stars came
out. Presently Claudia drew herself away and smoothed her kissed and
wind-blown hair. "I am such a queer person. I think you ought to
know," she said, and again her shining eyes were raised to his.
"There are a great many things I don't care for, and I don't think
the way some people do about a good many other things. I had to take
long to be sure."
"It was very cruel, Claudia." He lifted her face to his and smiled
in the confessing eyes. "My forgiveness proves the measure of my
love. As proof of penitence, will you marry me in June?"
"I certainly--will--not!" Again she drew away. "Jacqueline will not
get here until July. I told you she was coming home to live. You
don't suppose I'd leave my mother before Jacqueline comes home?"
"Then when?"
"In October, perhaps." Slowly the color crept to her temples. "It
is so beautiful here in October. There isn't a month in all the year
it will not hurt to leave." Sudden tears were in her eyes. "But it
would hurt worse not to be--with--you. They were very long,
Winthrop, the winter months that followed Christmas. You have very
poor manners. You should have written first and told me you had
enjoyed yourself instead of telling--"
"What I could no longer keep back? There was no time for manners.
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