And yet as she made her way alone back to the house she assured herself that she would have refused.
He had given her four-and-twenty hours, and at the end of that time she would be bound to give him an answer,--and answer which must then be final.And as she said this to herself she found that she was admitting a doubt.She hardly knew how not to doubt, knowing as she did, that all whom she loved were on one side, while on the other was nothing but the stubbornness of her own convictions.But still the conviction was left to her.Over and over again she declared to herself that it was not fit, meaning thereby to assure herself that a higher duty even than that which she owed to her friends, demanded from her that she should be true to her convictions.She met him that day at dinner, but he hardly spoke to her.They sat together in the same room during the evening, but she hardly once heard his voice.It seemed to her that he avoided even looking at her.
When they separated for the night, he parted from her almost as though they had been strangers.Surely he was angry with her because she was stubborn,--thought evil of her because she would not do as others wished her! She lay awake during the long night thinking of it all.If it might be so! Oh;--if it might be so!
If it might be done without utter ruin to her own self-respect as a woman!
In the morning she was down early,--not having anything to say, with no clear purpose as yet before her;--but still with a feeling that perhaps that morning might alter all things for her.
He was the latest of the party, not coming in for prayers as he did all the others, but taking his seat when the others had half finished their breakfast.As he sat down he gave a general half-uttered greeting to them all, but spoke no special word to any of them.It chanced that his seat was next to hers, but to her he did not address himself at all.Then the meal was over, and the chairs were withdrawn, and the party grouped itself about with vague, uncertain movements, as men and women do before they leave the breakfast table for the work of the day.She meditated her escape, but felt that she could not leave the room before Lady Wharton or Mrs Fletcher;--who had remained at Wharton to keep her mother company for a while.At last they went;--but then, just as she was escaping, he put his hand upon her and reminded her of her appointment.'I shall be in the hall in a quarter of an hour,' he said.'Will you meet me there?' Then she bowed her head to him and passed on.
She was there at the time named, and found him standing by the hall door, waiting for her.His hat was already on his head and his back was almost turned to her.He opened the door, and, allowing her to pass out first, led the way to the shrubbery.He did not speak to her till he had closed behind her the little iron gate which separated the walk from the garden, and then he turned upon her with one word.'Well?' he said.She was silent for a moment, and then he repeated his eager question: 'Well;--well?'
'I should disgrace you,' she said, not firmly, as before, but whispering the words.
He waited for no other assent.The form of the words told him that he had won the day.In a moment his arms were round her, and her veil was off, and his lips were pressed to hers;--and when she could see his countenance the whole form of his face was altered to her.It was bright as it used to be bright in the old days, and he was smiling on her as he used to smile.'My own,'
he said;--'my wife--my own!' And she had no longer the power to deny him.'Not yet, Arthur; not yet,' was all that she could say.
