"I mean to gallop round to the office now," thought Edith; "and
then I shall not be obliged to hurry away from Grassy Spring."
Accordingly Bedouin was turned toward the village, and in an
inconceivably short space of time she stood before the door of the
post-office.
"Give me Mr. Harrington's mail, please," Edith said to the clerk
who came out to meet her; "and--and Mr. St. Claire's too, I'm
going up there, and can take it as well as not."
The clerk withdrew, and soon returned with papers for Richard, and
a letter for Arthur. It was post-marked at Worcester, and Edith
thought of Mr. Griswold, as she thrust it into her pocket, and
started for Grassy Spring, where Arthur was anxiously awaiting
her. Hastening out to meet her, he held her hand in his, while he
led her up the walk, telling her by his manner, if by nothing
else, how glad he was to see her.
"It has seemed an age since Tuesday," he said. "I only live on
lesson-days. I wish it was lesson-day always."
"So do I," said Edith, impulsively, repenting her words the moment
she met the peculiar glance of Arthur's eyes.
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