WHEN PIPPA PASSED
David on the hillside, and wealth and poverty, crowds and loneliness, love and death were as far from his life as if the vast procession of them all that swept by him daily through the great city had never been.
As he talked, Delafield found his eyes drawn from the boy's face to Anne's. Never before had he seen just that faint, steady rose in her cheeks, that sweet glow in her eyes. As she leaned forward, her very pearls seemed to catch a red tinge from the fire: it occurred to him for the first time that she looked like Ellen's girls—there was a suggestion of Kitty in the curve of her cheek.
Was it possible that Anne—no, it could not be. To think of the men that had tried to come into her life and failed—such men! And this boy, this elf, to whom no woman was so real or so dear as a tree in the glen!
For two weeks after that night he did not come. Anne never mentioned his name, and Delafield, doubtful of what that might portend, tried to believe that she had forgotten him. Toward the end of the second week she spoke of the completion of
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