Had he only seen her in her joyous moods? It
was not pleasant to think of her growing sad--perhaps on his account.
Burke sat on a bench outside the door, smoking silently in the dusk.
Blanche was stirring about inside.
"Hello, Rivers!" Burke called. "Take a seat." He pointed at a
vinegar-keg.
Blanche hurried to meet her visitor, a beautiful smile on her face.
"Come inside," she said. "I've got some work to do, and I want to hear
you men talk." They obediently complied, and she lighted a lamp. "I like
to see you when you talk," she added, flashing a smile at Rivers.
He saw the change in her for the first time. She certainly was paler,
her face less boyish, and a deeper shadow hovered about her eyes.
"I came over to see if you wouldn't come down and help us get up a
jollification at the store on the Fourth," he said.
"Why, of course. What shall I do?"
"Oh, stir up a cake--and make some ice-cream. Can you make ice-cream?"
"You bet I can--with ice. Bring on your ice."
"Ice is easy to get. Cook is what bothered me.
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