As I followed the others into the house I told myself: Patience. Soon you shall have him. Soon everyone will know of your love.

____________________________

August and I stayed two weeks at Grant's Hill. I waited for Robbie to return, listening constantly for the sound of his arrival; but as the days passed and he did not come, I began to lose my enthusiasm for the small activities that August and Cathy were so content with. I could not concentrate on sewing or knitting; I did not want to write letters. I played on the pianoforte and sang, walked in the garden and down the lanes between the fields, to the swamp, and along the banks of the creek.

Cathy noticed my despondency and I'm sure she suspected the cause; though of course not the extent of my attachment. She asked if I had had a letter from Mr. Taylor. For a moment I could not imagine who she meant.

"Oh," I said, remembering. "No, Cathy dear; we have not written to each other since before Christmas."

"Oh, dear! And I had thought that you were so fond of him!" she said.

"Oh, I was!" I lied blithely. "But he met a girl there at the fort and of course it was much more convenient."

"Oh, Jessie!" she said, her face a picture of concern, laying her work in her lap and looking at me.

I laughed. "No need to take on so, Cathy!" I said. "I am content with it. After all, my parents would not have thought him a good match for me."

She picked up her yarn again. "I suppose not," she said.

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"It was good of you to take me with you to Fort Christopher," I said. "It was a pleasant diversion for me."

She did not answer. Her face was as serene as ever. I wondered if, in her happiness with John and the expected child, she had forgotten about Freddie Ashford. I hoped that she had.

Kevin came back after a week; Robbie was not with him. It was difficult for me to conceal my disappointment; I hoped that I was successful. I watched for an opportunity to speak with him alone and when I found him on the front verandah smoking, I confronted him.

"Why has Robbie not come back with you?"

He looked up at me, drawing on his cigar. He blew the smoke out before answering.

"He has gone to the back country."

I felt as if I had been hit in the belly with a basket of rice. "The back country? So soon?"




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