Samuel Hopkins Adams

“ Of Alexander Blair himself, nothing had been seen in the neighborhood since mid-July, nor of his daughter-in-law. Hedgerow House was in charge of Gansett Jim as caretaker. Professor Kent had left about the same time as the Blairs. But Francis Sedgwick had stuck to the Nook, studying first the cold grays and browns of November, and later the wonderful blazing whites and subtle blues of drift and shadow spread before him in winter’s endless panorama, with the same enthusiasm that he had devoted to October’s riot of color. Though the work prospered, the worker had paled. ”

“ It was her turn to grow red.
“You haven’t asked me about Sedgwick,” he continued.
“Is he well?” she inquired formally, but with quickened breath.
“He is more than that. He is cured—and a man. A man,” he added meaningly, “for any woman to be proud of.”
There was a step on the floor above. Marjorie Blair’s hand went to her heart.
“I didn’t know he was here,” she panted affrightedly. “I came just to—look at the place. Then I saw the light, and I wanted so to come in; but I didn’t dare. I can’t see him now! I must go! Don’t tell—”
Chester Kent raised his voice. “Frank!” he called. “Come down here! ”

“ Sedgwick would come over to a pick-up dinner before we leave?”
Kent’s face lighted up. “Ask him,” said he heartily, “and see!”
“I will, as soon as I get home. Good day.” Blair hesitated. He seemed to have difficulty in going and embarrassment in staying. He coughed and cleared his throat, looked over Kent’s head and down at his feet; and finally got himself into words.
“Kent,” he blurted, “I realize now why you won’t take my money. I can always buy brains; but I can’t buy the bigger better thing. It isn’t in the market. Thank you!” ”