Thyra could not bear her to be out of her sight . They talked constantly about Chester ; Thyra confessed all her anger and hatred . Damaris had forgiven her ; but Thyra could never forgive herself . She was greatly changed , and had grown very gentle and tender . She even sent for August Vorst and begged him to pardon her for the way she had spoken to him . Winter came late that year , and the season was a very open one . There was no snow on the ground and , a month after Joe Raymond 's boat had been cast up on the Blue Point sand shore , Thyra , wandering about in her garden , found some pansies blooming under their tangled leaves . She was picking them for Damaris when she heard a buggy rumble over the bridge and drive up the White lane , hidden from her sight by the alders and firs . A few minutes later Carl and Cynthia came hastily across their yard under the huge balm-of-gileads . Carl 's face was flushed , and his big body quivered with excitement . Cynthia ran behind him , with tears rolling down her face . Thyra felt herself growing sick with fear . Had anything happened to Damaris ? A glimpse of the girl , sewing by an upper window of the house , reassured her . `` Oh , Thyra , Thyra ! '' gasped Cynthia . `` Can you stand some good news , Thyra ? '' asked Carl , in a trembling voice . `` Very , very good news ! '' Thyra looked wildly from one to the other .
`` There 's but one thing you would dare XXXXX call good news to me , '' she cried .
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