caress, that made their cold blood run a little warmer.
Augusta was still standing at the dining-room window when Nathan came down the stairs, her back uncompromisingly toward the hall. It was all so like another good-by (only his uniform had been blue) that she could not trust herself to turn around. But Nathan approached her undaunted.
"Good-by, Rebecca's Aunt Augusta," he murmured, and put his hand upon her shoulder.
She drew in her breath suddenly at that. It made an unexpected noise in her throat. The hand on her shoulder patted her gently, twice. Think of it! An old woman like her! Augusta's hands went up to her mouth quick in an attempt to hide her jerking jaw. She might have broken down before them all if it hadn't been for the interruption.
"Nathan! Nathan!" a voice suddenly called from the hall.
It was Rebecca. She was standing half-way down the stairs. She had stolen out of her room, after Nathan had left her, to get one more glimpse of him if possible. And it had flashed across her suddenly, as she leaned there at the top of the stairs, that one more clasp of his arms about her was possible, if she acted quickly. Besides—besides, she ought to be the last one in this house whom he touched before he went away! They had decided to say good-by to each other upstairs behind closed doors. But she didn't care who saw her. Oh, she didn't care! A hundred people could look on for all she cared now!
Nathan ran up the stairs to her. "Rebecca!" he exclaimed softly.
"Say good-by to me again!" Reba whispered.
