By the time Miss Farwell began hearing of the new preacher the interest
occasioned by his defense of Denny had already died down, and it chanced
that no one mentioned it in her presence when speaking of him, while each
time he had called at the Strong home the nurse had been absent or busy.
Thus it happened that so far as she knew, Miss Farwell had never met the
minister about whom she had heard so much. But she had several times seen
the big fellow, who had apologized at such length for running into her at
the depot, and who had gone so quickly to the assistance of Denny. It was
natural, under such conditions, that she should remember him. It was
natural, too, that she never dreamed of connecting the young hero of the
street fight with the Reverend Matthews of the Memorial Church.
Her patient had so far improved that the nurse was now able to leave her
for an hour or two in the afternoon, and the young woman had gone for a
walk just beyond the outskirts of the village. Coming to the top of the
hill she had turned aside from the dusty highway, thinking to enjoy the
view from the shade of a great oak that grew on a grassy knoll in the
center of the school grounds.
Dan watched her as she made her way slowly across the yard, his eyes
bright with admiration for her womanly grace as she stopped, here and
there, to pick a wild flower from the tangle of grass and weeds. Reaching
the tree she seated herself and, laying her parasol on the grass by her
side, began arranging the blossoms she had gathered--pausing, now and
then, to look over the rolling country of field and woods that, dotted by
farm houses with their buildings and stacks, stretched away into the blue
distance.
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