“No. He was staying there to punish himself
for cowardice in that affair of the Warren ghost.
It seems they have a club for bringing themselves
up, and they punish themselves when they do wrong.
Jerry told Mr. Meredith all about it.”
“The poor little souls,” said Miss Cornelia.
Carl got better rapidly, for the congregation took
enough nourishing things to the manse to furnish forth
a hospital. Norman Douglas drove up every evening
with a dozen fresh eggs and a jar of Jersey cream.
Sometimes he stayed an hour and bellowed arguments
on predestination with Mr. Meredith in the study;
oftener he drove on up to the hill that overlooked
the Glen.
When Carl was able to go again to Rainbow Valley they
had a special feast in his honour and the doctor came
down and helped them with the fireworks. Mary
Vance was there, too, but she did not tell any ghost
stories. Miss Cornelia had given her a talking
on that subject which Mary would not forget in a hurry.
Rosemary West, on her way home from a music lesson
at Ingleside, turned aside to the hidden spring in
Rainbow Valley. She had not been there all summer;
the beautiful little spot had no longer any allurement
for her. The spirit of her young lover never
came to the tryst now; and the memories connected
with John Meredith were too painful and poignant.
But she had happened to glance backward up the valley
and had seen Norman Douglas vaulting as airily as
a stripling over the old stone dyke of the Bailey
garden and thought he was on his way up the hill.
If he overtook her she would have to walk home with
him and she was not going to do that. So she
slipped at once behind the maples of the spring, hoping
he had not seen her and would pass on.
But Norman had seen her and, what was more, was in
pursuit of her. He had been wanting for some
time to have talk with Rosemary, but she had always,
so it seemed, avoided him. Rosemary had never,
at any time, liked Norman Douglas very well.
His bluster, his temper, his noisy hilarity, had always
antagonized her. Long ago she had often wondered
how Ellen could possibly be attracted to him.
Norman Douglas was perfectly aware of her dislike
and he chuckled over it. It never worried Norman
if people did not like him. It did not even make
him dislike them in return, for he took it as a kind
of extorted compliment. He thought Rosemary a
fine girl, and he meant to be an excellent, generous
brother-in-law to her. But before he could be
her brother-in-law he had to have a talk with her,
so, having seen her leaving Ingleside as he stood
in the doorway of a Glen store, he had straightway
plunged into the valley to overtake her.
