"Nearly twenty years have passed, Irene, since a word or sign has
passed between us."
Her lips moved, but there was no utterance.
"Why should we not, at least, be friends?"
Her lips moved again, but no words trembled on the air.
"Friends, that may meet now and then, and feel kindly one toward the
other."
His voice was still event in tone--very even, but very distinct and
impressive.
At first Irene's face had grown pale, but now a warm flush was
pervading it.
"If you desire it, Hartley," she answered, in a voice that trembled
in the beginning, but grew firm ere the sentence closed, "it is not
for me to say, 'No.' As for kind feelings, they are yours
always--always. The bitterness passed from my heart long ago."
"And from mine," said Mr. Emerson.
They were silent for a few moments, and each showed embarrassment.
"Nearly twenty years! That is a long, long time, Irene." His voice
showed signs of weakness.
"Yes, it is a long time." It was a mere echo of his words, yet full
of meaning.
"Twenty years!" he repeated. "There has been full time for
reflection, and, it may be, for repentance. Time for growing wiser
and better."
Irene's eyelids drooped until the long lashes lay in a dark fringed
line on her pale cheeks. When she lifted them they were wet.
"Yes, Hartley," she answered with much feeling, "there has been,
indeed, time for reflection and repentance. It is no light thing to
shadow the whole life of a human being."
"As I have shadowed yours."
"No, no," she answered quickly, "I did not mean that; as I have
shadowed yours."
She could not veil the tender interest that was in her eyes; would
not, perhaps, if it had been in her power.
At this moment a bell rang out clear and loud. Irene started and
glanced from the window; then, rising quickly, she said-"We are at the landing."
There was a hurried passage from cabin to deck, a troubled confusion
of thought, a brief period of waiting, and then Irene stood on the
shore and Hartley Emerson on the receding vessel. In a few hours
miles of space lay between them.
"Irene, darling," said Mrs. Everet, as they met at Ivy Cliff on the
next day, "how charming you look! This pure, sweet, bracing air has
beautified you like a cosmetic. Your cheeks are warm and your eyes
are full of light. It gives me gladness of heart to see in your face
something of the old look that faded from it years ago."
Irene drew her arm around her friend and kissed her lovingly.