Everything was ready for her departure. She had hurried at the end to be early; she didn’t want to keep Edward waiting, especially in this instance. She realized she might keep him waiting forever in the larger consideration of his desires. She would not brood over that now, but she was hard pressed to keep her mind from conjecturing about last night. Mrs. Macon had paid her a visit in the bookstore just before closing. Mr. Chestley was holed up in his office. “Could I talk with you, Miss, while no one is around?” “Surely.” “I’ve come because Mr. Lyons isn’t himself. When I asked if anything was wrong, he gave me a long, hard look and said, ‘Miss Thatcher is leaving.’ Then he half slammed the door to his library and I haven’t seen him since. His supper has gone cold on the table. “I heard the scuttlebutt about the flower show and all. And all I’ve got to say is that he’s been misjudged by this town, and I wanted you to know it.
