Time dripped by like a slowly melting icicle. Every time I heard the sound of people talking on the street or the sound of a horse and carriage, I stared hopefully toward the front door, but no one came knocking. Great-aunt Nettie fell asleep a few times while we had our tea. The golden rod cake was delicious, but soon they were both drifting off. Hazel woke with a start and began to clean up.

“We’ll be goin’ up to sleep soon, Nettie,” she told my great-aunt, who was already half asleep again.

Everything inside me felt tied up with frustration. I began to think up different reasons for why I had to cut my visit short.

“You don’t have to go to sleep with us old birds,” Hazel said, returning.

It was only a little past twilight, and from the view I had of the street outside, I could see there was a full moon.

“I might sit a while,” I said. “Maybe take a short walk.”

“Just be careful. The way they go by with their horses and carriages these days, a pedestrian takes her life in her hands crossin’ the street, especially after sundown.

“Come on, Nettie,” she told my great-aunt, and reached for her arm to help her stand.

It was just then that we heard the knock on the door. Of course, I heard it first. I was hearing it in my otherwise silent prayers and for a moment thought I might have imagined it. But I heard it again.

“Someone’s at the door!” I cried, standing quickly, my face full of hope.

Hazel paused to listen. There was another, louder knock.

“Well, I do declare. You’re right,” she said. “It might be some panhandler,” she warned.

“I’ll go see,” I said, and started for it, but I quickly slowed down and pulled myself up. Don’t dare look so anxious, Corrine Dixon, I told myself.

I opened the door slowly and looked out at Garland Foxworth, whose smile was bright enough to light the whole house. He immediately took off his black derby hat. He wore a suit, a tie, and high black leather boots. The splash of moonlight turned his hair a yellower gold than I remembered.

“Why, hello there, Corrine,” he said. “I do hope I’m not calling too late on you fine ladies. I just returned from a business trip and thought I’d stop by on my way home.”

Hazel and my great-aunt Nettie appeared in the hallway.

“Good evening,” he said, nodding at them. “I’m Garland Foxworth.”

“Yes, we heard you might be callin’,” Hazel said. “I’m afraid I have to get Mrs. Lloyd up to bed. Might be a good idea for me as well.”

“I apologize for the lateness. As I was just telling Corrine—Miss Dixon—I’m on my way home from a business trip and had to go by your home.”