“Eh, now?  You know well enough, Thyra.”

“I know nothing of what you would be at, August Vorst.  You speak of my son and Damaris—­was that the name?—­Damaris Garland as if they were something to each other.  I ask you what you mean by it?”

“Tut, tut, Thyra, nothing very terrible.  There’s no need to look like that about it.  Young men will be young men to the end of time, and there’s no harm in Chester’s liking to look at a lass, eh, now?  Or in talking to her either?  The little baggage, with the red lips of her!  She and Chester will make a pretty pair.  He’s not so ill-looking for a man, Thyra.”

“I am not a very patient woman, August,” said Thyra coldly.  “I have asked you what you mean, and I want a straight answer.  Is Chester down at Tom Blair’s while I have been sitting here, alone, waiting for him?”

August nodded.  He saw that it would not be wise to trifle longer with Thyra.

“That he is.  I was there before I came here.  He and Damaris were sitting in a corner by themselves, and very well-satisfied they seemed to be with each other.  Tut, tut, Thyra, don’t take the news so.  I thought you knew.  It’s no secret that Chester has been going after Damaris ever since she came here.  But what then?  You can’t tie him to your apron strings forever, woman.  He’ll be finding a mate for himself, as he should.  Seeing that he’s straight and well-shaped, no doubt Damaris will look with favor on him.  Old Martha Blair declares the girl loves him better than her eyes.”

Thyra made a sound like a strangled moan in the middle of August’s speech.  She heard the rest of it immovably.  When it came to an end she stood and looked down upon him in a way that silenced him.

“You’ve told the news you came to tell, and gloated over it, and now get you gone,” she said slowly.

“Now, Thyra,” he began, but she interrupted him threateningly.

“Get you gone, I say!  And you need not bring my mail here any longer.  I want no more of your misshapen body and lying tongue!”

August went, but at the door he turned for a parting stab.

“My tongue is not a lying one, Mrs. Carewe.  I’ve told you the truth, as all Avonlea knows it.  Chester is mad about Damaris Garland.  It’s no wonder I thought you knew what all the settlement can see.  But you’re such a jealous, odd body, I suppose the boy hid it from you for fear you’d go into a tantrum.  As for me, I’ll not forget that you’ve turned me from your door because I chanced to bring you news you’d no fancy for.”

Thyra did not answer him.  When the door closed behind him she locked it and blew out the light.  Then she threw herself face downward on the sofa and burst into wild tears.  Her very soul ached.  She wept as tempestuously and unreasoningly as youth weeps, although she was not young.  It seemed as if she was afraid to stop weeping lest she should go mad thinking.  But, after a time, tears failed her, and she began bitterly to go over, word by word, what August Vorst had said.