He was an old man, upward of eighty years of age, and he
lived in a strange old place six or seven miles from the town. But Ronald
had been there more than once, and he was always enthusiastic in his
description of what he had seen, and he seemed particularly anxious that
Joe should know how very happy Sybil was in her country surroundings.
Ronald had traveled during the spring, making short journeys in every
direction, and constantly talking of going out to see the West, a feat
which he never accomplished. He would go away for a week at a time and
then suddenly appear again, and at last had gravitated to Newport. Thence
he came to town occasionally and visited Joe, never remaining more than a
day, and sometimes only a few hours. Joe was indifferent to his comings
and goings, but always welcomed him in a friendly way. She saw that he was
amusing himself, and was more glad than ever that the relations formerly
existing between them had been so opportunely broken off. He had never
referred to the past since the final interview when Joe had answered him
by bursting into tears, and he talked about the present cheerfully enough.
Pages:
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356