Miss Mary felt as if she had an attack of vertigo. She was in the
thirties, and this was her first love letter. She had never thought of
love, and no one had ever paid her any attention. Lightning darted
through her head, blood pounded in her temples, and she breathed with
effort. She was not in condition to formulate any sort of thought. Only
in midst of the flashing, red lightning, she saw the gloomy-looking
Cibulka.
She picked up the letter from the floor and read it a second time. How
beautifully it was written, how tender! She could not bring herself to
conceal the letter from her friend. Without being able to utter a word
she handed it to her.
“See, see”--observed at last Mrs. Nocar. Her face expressed confusion
and surprise. “And what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know, Louisa.”
“You have time enough to think. Of course it is possible--but, you know
how men are--_But_--And yet why should he not be in love with you? I’ll
make some inquiries about him.”
Miss Mary was silent.
“Listen! Cibulka is a fine looking fellow! His eyes are like coals, his
beard, too, and his teeth--I say his teeth are like pure sugar. He is
really very good looking.”
Mrs. Nocar bent over and embraced her speechless friend. Miss Mary was
the color of purple. Just one week later on returning from church, Miss
Mary found another letter. She read it with increasing astonishment.