Later there was the work itself to be done, and though
strong men did the heavier part, there was yet plenty left for Billy's
eager fingers--and for Bertram's. And if sometimes in the intimacy of
seed-sowing and plant-setting, the touch of the slenderer fingers sent
a thrill through the browner ones, Bertram made no sign. He was careful
always to be the cheerful, helpful assistant--and that was all.
Billy, it is true, was a little disturbed at being quite so much with
Bertram. She dreaded a repetition of some such words as had been uttered
at the end of the sleigh-ride. She told herself that she had no right
to grieve Bertram, to make it hard for him by being with him; but at
the very next breath, she could but question; did she grieve him? Was
it hard for him to have her with him? Then she would glance at his eager
face and meet his buoyant smile--and answer "no." After that, for a
time, at least, her fears would be less.
Systematically Billy avoided Cyril these days. She could not forget his
promise to make many things clear to her some day. She thought she knew
what he meant--that he would try to convince her (as she had tried to
convince herself) that she would make a good wife for him.
Billy was very sure that if Cyril could be prevented from speaking his
mind just now, his mind would change in time; hence her determination to
give his mind that opportunity.
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