She did not fail
to express to him her sympathy with his relief, but she did it with
reinforcements of her family at hand, and with Ruth's arm about her
waist. She had trusted him when torn with anxiety; clearly she did not
trust him now in the reaction from that anxiety. He was in wild spirits,
no doubt of that; she could see it in his brilliant eyes.
It still lacked six weeks of Midsummer.
CHAPTER XX
SIDE LIGHTS
Louis Gray sat in a capacious willow easy-chair beside the high white
iron hospital bed upon which lay Hugh Benson, convalescing from his
attack of fever. "Pretty comfortable they make you here," Louis
observed, glancing about. "I didn't know their private rooms were as big
and airy as this one."
Benson smiled. "I don't imagine they all are. I didn't realize what sort
of quarters I was in till I began to get better and mother told me.
According to her I have the best in the place. That's Rich. Whatever he
looks after is sure to be gilt-edged. I wonder if you know what a prince
of good fellows he is, anyway."
"I always knew he was a good fellow," Louis agreed. "He has that
reputation, you know--kind-hearted and open-handed.
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