"Shall I ask if I may come again," he said, imitating Mr. Flctcher's
graceful bow with an odd smile.
"I let him come because he has lost his sister, and is lonely,"
began Christie, but got no further, for David said, "Good-night!"
abruptly, and was gone without a word to Mr. Power.
"He's in a hurry to get back to his Kitty," she thought, tormenting
herself with feminine skill. "Never mind," she added, with a defiant
sort of smile; "I 've got my Philip, handsomer and more in love than
ever, if I'm not deceived. I wonder if he will come again?"
Mr. Fletcher did come again, and with flattering regularity, for
several weeks, evidently finding something very attractive in those
novel gatherings. Mr. Power soon saw why he came; and, as Christie
seemed to enjoy his presence, the good man said nothing to disturb
her, though he sometimes cast an anxious glance toward the recess
where the two usually sat, apparently busy with books or pictures;
yet, by their faces, showing that an under current of deeper
interest than art or literature flowed through their intercourse.
Christie had not deceived herself, and it was evident that her old
lover meant to try his fate again, if she continued to smile upon
him as she had done of late.
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