"
"Now, then," said I to myself, proudly gazing at these lines, "this is
only a small thing, but the girl who would write it, and who would
expect me to read it, must be interested in me. She believes that I
would not fail to come here again; therefore she believes in me. That is
a great point."
For a moment I felt tempted to write something in reply, and hang it on
the tree twig. But I refrained; what I would write to Sylvia must be
read by no one but herself. That tree was in a very conspicuous
position, and my tamest words to her must not hang upon it. I carefully
folded the paper and put it in my pocket, and then, greatly encouraged,
walked rapidly to the house.
On the front piazza I found an elderly woman, with a broom. She knew me,
for she had frequently seen me during the time that I was encamped upon
the island. She was now greatly surprised at my appearance on the scene.
"Why, sir," she exclaimed, without waiting for me to speak, "have you
come back to your camp? It is too bad."
I did not like this salutation. But, making no answer to it, I asked
quickly, "Can I see Mrs. Raynor?"
"No, indeed," said she; "they've gone, every one of them, and not an
hour ago. What a pity they did not know you were here!"
"Gone!" I cried.
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