II-XVIII

Gordon Makimmon made one step toward
her. Lettice held the box in an extended
hand:

"Gordon," she asked, "what was this for? It
was in the clothes press last evening: it couldn't have
been there long. You see -- it's a little jewellery
box from the post-office; here is the name on the lid.
Somehow, Gordon, finding it upset me; I couldn't
stop 'til I'd seen you and asked you about it. Somehow
there didn't seem to be any time to lose. I
asked for you last night in the village, but everybody
had gone to the sap-boiling... I sat up all night
...waiting... I couldn't wait any longer, Gordon,
somehow. I had to come out and find you,
and everybody had gone to the sap-boiling, and--"

"Why, Lettice," he stammered, more disconcerted
by the sudden loss of youth from her countenance
than by her words; "it wasn't -- wasn't much."

"What was it, Gordon?" she insisted.

Suddenly he was unable to lie to her. Her questioning
eyes held a quality that dispelled petty and

[[256]]

p255 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p256w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p257

v?