“Mary Cary,” he said.  And the first thing I knew I was crying fit to break my heart, with my arms around his neck, and he holding me tight in his.  His eyes were wet, too.  They were.  I saw them.  He kissed me about fifty times—­though maybe not more than twenty—­and I had such a strange feeling I didn’t know whether I was in my body or not.  It was the first time that any one who was really truly my own had ever come to see me since I’d been an Orphan, and every bit of sense I ever had rolled away like the Red Sea waters.  Rolled right away.

I don’t remember what happened next.  Everything is a jumble of so many kinds of joys that I’ve been crazy all day.  But I wasn’t too crazy to see the look on his face, I mean on my Uncle Dr. Parke Alden’s face, when he saw Miss Katherine coming across the front yard.  We were standing by the window, and as he saw her he looked again, as if he didn’t see good, and then his face got as white as whitewash.  He took out his handkerchief and wiped his lips and his forehead that were real perspiring, and I almost danced for joy, for I knew in his secret, secret heart she was his sweetheart still.  But I didn’t move even a toe.  I just said: 

“That’s Miss Katherine Trent.  She’s the trained nurse here.  Did you know her when she lived in Yorkburg?”

And he said yes, he knew her.  Just that, and nothing else.  But I knew, and for fear I’d tell him I knew, I flew out of the room like I was having a fit, and met Miss Katherine coming in the front door.

“Miss Katherine,” I said, “there’s a friend of yours in the parlor who wants to see you.  Will you go in?”

She walked in, just as natural, humming a little tune, and I walked behind her, for I wanted to see it.  I will never be as ready for glory as I was that minute.  I could have folded my hands and sailed up, but I didn’t sail.  It’s well I didn’t, for they didn’t meet at all like I expected, and I was so surprised I just said, “Well, sir!” and sat right down on the floor and looked up at them.

They didn’t see me.  They didn’t see anything but each other; but if they’d had the smallpox they couldn’t have kept farther apart, just bowing formal, and not even offering to shake hands.

My, I was set on!  I didn’t think they’d meet that way; but Miss Becky Cole, who’s kinder crazy, says God Almighty don’t know what a woman is going to do or when she’s going to do it.  Miss Katherine proved it.  She didn’t fool me, though, with all her quietness and coolness.  I knew her heart was beating as hard as mine, and I jumped up and said: 

“I think you all have been waiting long enough to make up, and it’s no use wasting any more time.”  And I flew out, slamming the door tight, and shut them in.

I don’t know what happened after I shut that door.  But, oh, he’s grand!  He is thirty-six, and big and splendid.  He and Miss Katherine are in the parlor now.  Miss Jones says everybody in Yorkburg knows he’s here, and all talking.  All!