"Yes," he said, "and I am beginning to realize how woefully ignorant I am
of life. You know I was born and brought up in the backwoods. Until I
went to college I knew only our simple country life; at college I knew
only books and students. Then I came here."
As he talked the young woman's face cleared. It was something very
refreshing to hear such a man declare his ignorance of life with the
frankness of a boy. She held out her hand impulsively.
"Let's forget it all," she said. "It was a horrid mistake."
"And we are to be good friends?" he asked, grasping her outstretched
hand.
Without replying the young woman quietly released her hand and drew back
a few paces--she was trembling. She fought for self-control. There was
something--what was it about this man? The touch of his hand--Hope
Farwell was frightened by emotions new and strange to her.
She found a seat on the big rock and ignoring his question said, "So
that's why you are so big and strong, and know so well how to work in a
garden. I thought it was strange for one of your calling. I see now how
natural it is for you."
"Yes," he smiled, "it is very natural--more so than preaching. But tell
me--don't you think we should be good friends? We are going to be now,
are we not?"
The young woman answered with quiet dignity, "Friendship Mr. Matthews
means a great deal to me, and to you also, I am sure. Friends must have
much in common. We have nothing, because--because everything that I said
to you at the Academy, to me, is true.
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