She did not comprehend why now, when she saw John's face, which had always been so distinct, it seemed gradually to fade and merge into Sandy's. Sandy as he looked, when several nights before he had sat and played to her. She was vexed with herself--but even more with Sandy.
Young lady; you are about to have that experience which has come to every woman since Eve. God's plan is breaking from its chrysalis before you. The slowly fading spirit of John is entering the lists in conflict with Sandy's materialism; it is the conflict of the intangible with the tangible, the memories of yesterday with the hopes of tomorrow. You will act as second for one or the other. Faithful in the start you may follow behind the spirit; but if you follow the way of your sisters, and they go the right way, you will end by wishing you were second to the man who seeks to drive the wraith away. Mayhap you may shift your allegiance early in the conflict--who knows? You do not, nor do I. Take care! Beware! Your long dream of John may end by kissing Sandy.
At this inopportune moment Sandy climbed upon the rock, saying:
"This shore is a nice place, may I set down."
"You are welcome to the seat Mr. Blair, but you must excuse me, I was just going to the house."
He sat down; his face as red as his hair; provoked at Jeannette's abrupt departure. But when he recalled that she had called him Mr. Blair for the first time in his life, he was consoled, believing that it evidenced progress in his suit. He realized that he had made an impression of some kind; and his experiences, which were not limited, suggested that even an awakened animosity was better than the indifference of the past years.
Jeannette felt ashamed for having run away. "Running from Sandy Blair--sakes alive! Why did I do it? Have I grown timid? Am I afraid of Sandy Blair? I suppose he's laughing at me. Well, tonight I'll give him another lesson on the violin, just to show him, light-footed, empty-headed young men of his class mean nothing to me."
Sandy rose from the supper table and after a yawn remarked: "It's too quiet around here for me; I think I'll go up to Hiram Lewis'." He took his fiddle from its case and tucking it under his arm, put on his hat and stood for a moment in the doorway. Hiram Lewis was their nearest neighbor and had two daughters of marriageable age.