“Well, I could, for one,” said Dexie, trying to hide a laugh.  “He would need something more than riches to be attractive to me, for all his fine looks; but I congratulate you, Gussie.  I hope you will be happy.”

“Of course I will be happy, so long as the money holds out, anyway,” said she, with a laugh that grated harshly on her sister’s ears.  “Did you see any brides when you were away, Dexie, and how were they dressed?”

“I wasn’t searching for brides, Gussie.  I confined my attention to pollywogs, crabs, and things of that ilk.”

Gussie’s remarks jarred on her feelings, in spite of her efforts to seem careless, but she smiled, as Gussie scornfully replied: 

“Well, did I ever!  I guess if you searched for a sunburnt face and a blistered nose, you found them fast enough.”

“Yes, unfortunately, one can find those sort of things without searching for them; they are thrown in with the pollywogs for good measure; but my nose is not half so ornamental as Lancy’s.  Don’t be cross, Gussie.  Let us go into the parlor and wait for the trunks.  I have a lot of nice new patterns in fancywork for you.”

They entered the parlor together, where Aunt Jennie followed them, and they talked about the many events that had transpired during Dexie’s absence.  The room was almost dark.  It seemed pleasanter to talk in the twilight, but a bar of light shone from the sitting-room door, and relieved it from any sombre appearance.  Dexie kept wondering why the expressman did not appear; she was anxious to see if the little treasures she had collected for distribution had borne the journey safely.  She rose at last and went to the window to see if there was anyone in sight, but she was disappointed.  Not so Hugh, who was just entering the house, and caught sight of her outline against the window-pane, and, thinking the unlighted parlor vacant but for Dexie’s presence, he softly opened the door and stepped to her side.  All her cold repulses were forgotten, her curt words of dismissal faded from his memory, his heart was yearning for her presence, she was there before him, and in a moment he had her in his arms.

“My darling! my love! do I see you at last.  How I have longed for this moment!”

It was so sudden that for a moment Dexie was powerless to move, but she freed herself quickly, saying, as she stepped back: 

“How dare you!  How dare you touch me!  It is I; not Gussie,” she added, thinking he might have mistaken the person, though his words belied the thought.  “I was watching for the expressman, and did not notice you had come in; you made a mistake,” came the quick-spoken words.

“Well, I should say it was a mistake, and an odd one too,” said Gussie, coming forward.  “How could you mistake that mop of a head for mine, Hugh?”

She had seen the embrace, but the whispered words had not reached her.  Naturally, Hugh was much taken back when he realized that Dexie was not alone, but he anathematized Gussie in his heart, and bit his lips to keep back the words that sprang up in reply.  If Gussie had known how precious that “mop of a head” was to her quondam lover, she would not have been so ready to “give herself away,” as the trite saying has it.