Jerome 's hat went one way and his cane another . Jerome himself sprang across the intervening space and dropped into the chair beside Anne . He caught her hand in his and threw his arm boldly around her waist . `` Goodness gracious , Anne ! Do you care after all ? Tell me that ! '' `` I do n't suppose it matters to you if I do , '' sobbed Anne . `` It has n't seemed to matter , anyhow . '' `` Anne , look here ! Did n't I come after you for fifteen years ? It 's you I always have wanted and want yet , if I can get you . I do n't care a rap for Harriet Warren or anyone but you . Now that 's the truth right out , Anne . '' No doubt it was , and Anne was convinced of it . But she had to have her cry out -- on Jerome 's shoulder -- and it soothed her nerves wonderfully . Later on Octavia , slipping noiselessly up the steps in the dusk , saw a sight that transfixed her with astonishment . When she recovered herself she turned and fled wildly around the house , running bump into Sam Mitchell , who was coming across the yard from a twilight conference with the hired men . `` Goodness , Tavy , what 's the matter ? Y ' look ` sif y 'd seen a ghost . '' Octavia leaned up against the wall in spasms of mirth .
`` Oh , Sam , '' she gasped , `` old Jerome Irving and Aunt Anne are sitting round there in the dark on the front porch and he had his arms XXXXX her , kissing her !
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