He bowed to the man with whom he had been conversing, and
then passed to another part of the boat.
With slow steps, that were unsteady from sudden weakness, Irene
moved along the road that led to her home. After reaching the
grounds of Ivy Cliff she turned aside into a small summer-house, and
sat down at one of the windows that looked out upon the river as it
stretched upward in its gleaming way. The boat she bad just left was
already far distant, but it fixed her eyes, and they saw no other
object until it passed from view around a wooded point of land. And
still she sat motionless, looking at the spot where it had vanished
from her sight.
"Miss Irene!" exclaimed Margaret, the faithful old domestic, who
still bore rule at the homestead, breaking in upon her reverie,
"what in the world are you doing here? I expected you up to-day, and
when the boat stopped at the landing and you didn't come, I was
uneasy and couldn't rest. Why child, what is the matter? You're
sick!"
"Oh no, Margaret, I'm well enough," said Irene, trying to smile
indifferently. And she arose and left the summer-house.
Kind, observant old Margaret was far from being satisfied, however.
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