He knew that it would bring him both fame and
fortune; but when he had written the last line of it he
had bowed his head on the manuscript and so sat for a
long time. And his thoughts were not of the good work
he had done.
CHAPTER 26
OWEN FORD'S CONFESSION
"I'm so sorry Gilbert is away," said Anne. "He had to
go--Allan Lyons at the Glen has met with a serious
accident. He will not likely be home till very late.
But he told me to tell you he'd be up and over early
enough in the morning to see you before you left. It's
too provoking. Susan and I had planned such a nice
little jamboree for your last night here."
She was sitting beside the garden brook on the little
rustic seat Gilbert had built. Owen Ford stood before
her, leaning against the bronze column of a yellow
birch. He was very pale and his face bore the marks of
the preceding sleepless night. Anne, glancing up at
him, wondered if, after all, his summer had brought him
the strength it should. Had he worked too hard over
his book? She remembered that for a week he had not
been looking well.
Pages:
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277