A Life's Morning

iving him, went into the town at the same time on pretence of a desire to share his walk. Taking leave of him as soon as the mill was in sight, she walked towards the post-office. A

vious night from London. 'I shall be in Dunfield at one o'clock to-morrow. Please leave a note for me at the po

small shop where she could procure note-paper. On her way she devised a plan for meeting. In the shop where she made her purchase, she was permitted also to write the note. Having stamped the envelope, she returned to the post-office, and, t

might have led him to such a step, she was swayed in a tumult of emotion. She longed to open the letter, yet felt she could not do so in the public roads. She tried to think whether any ill chance could possibly interpose to pr

account for his coming; it had been written late on Friday night, but made absolutely no reference to what had passed between Wilfrid and his relations. It was a long and pas

he listened with unfailing patience to the lengthily described details of domestic annoyances of which Mrs. Hood's conversation chiefly consisted, and did her best to infuse into her replies a tone of hopefulness, which might animate without betraying too

to cover more of the fabric, though history tells not how or when the earth was so heaped up. The circle of the moat is still complete, and generally contains water. Pendal Castle Hill, as the locality is called, is approached by a rustic lane leading from the village; it is enclosed like an ordinary meadow, and shadowed her

remained standing on the inner side of the stile by which the field was entered, and kept her gaze on the

me; he had taken a meal at Dunfield station, and

from the road. Wilfrid looked about him, and remarked that the place was interesting. He seemed in no hurry to speak of what had brought him he

frid said, pointing to a remot

the fairy tales in which the old woman bids some one go to a certain place and do such and s

an. They call her a w

st! What careful directions! I laughed at your dreadful anxiety to make it quite, quite c

rs lightly, and the

come all this di

d I had come to see you? What di

to have left E

all not go-till you

t him with a

place, my father and my aunt think that the plan of your r

fulness, but firmly, as was

t it myself

e to make up my mind. I can see that you would be uncomfortable in the house under such conditions; at the same time it is certainly o

Wilfrid. Do you mean that

o doubt, what my intention is. In a ma

ked with apprehension,

has been well talked about,' he answer

not meet

not to retur

lboy would have been impossible; all that is over and a new life beg

his face now

n his absence? You know that I have no foolish desires; the more simply everything is done the better it will please me. But I would, I would have it done wi

nds on his, and ga

marriage, I may tell you, was an affair of decision in the face of superficial objections, and he will only think the better of me for following his example. You say, and I am sure, that you care nothing

ed his hand. There were signs on h

our marriage take place here? To me it is the same; I woul

my mind to a marriage at once,' she

their sense, Emily,' he said tenderly. 'I will not put o

let me s

ime; we are not worthy of it if we hold back from paltry considerations. I dare not leave you, Emily; everything points to one result-the rejection of the scheme for your return, my father's free surrender of the decision to myself, the irresistible impulse which has brought me here to you. Did I tell you that I rose in the midd

of resistance actuated her now. In her humility she could not deem the instant gain of herself to be an equivalent to him for what he would certainly, and what he might perchance, lose. She feared that he had disguised his father'

owe him consideration; he is prejudiced against me now, and I would gain his goodwill. Just because we are perfectly independent let us have regard for others; better,

has fear to do with it; I wish to make you my own; the empire of my passion is all-su

at you do not doubt my love, and in your heart you cannot. Answer me one question, Wilfrid: have you made litt

d his father to be utterly irreconcilable, there could be no excuse fo

rary. When you are my wife he will be to you as to

much respect, dearest; join him abroad now; let him see that you desire his kindness. Is he not disappointed that you mean to break

calmness, no longer the old am

gret that you left your course unfinished, just

nd! Have you not heard men and women, those who have outlived such glimpses of high things as nature ever sent them, making a jest of love in young lives, treating it, from the height of their wisdom forsooth, as a silly dream of boys and girls? If we ever live to speak or think like that, it will indeed be time to have done with the world. Even as I love you now, my heart's darling, I shall love you when years of intimacy are

ds, dear. Love is n

traitor; or-which you will-w

ith you now,' he sai

reminding her most strongly of the inevitable difficulties

not said a word of this; I

not spok

ill I-till everythin

hat uncertainty is there? Everything is uncertain, if you like to ma

ife. It has come to me so suddenly, that even yet I cannot make it par

wake in a terror lest I have only dreamed of it; but then the very truth comes back, an

ted before s

about my home,' she said. 'Yo

cognise how nearly her feeling was one of shame, what a long habit of reason i

Wilfrid replied. 'We shall have it in

s to dwell on what he said, 'why I should have time to prepare my father an

dge each other. Shall I fret about the circumstances in which chance has cased your life? As reasonable if I withdrew my love from you because one day the colour of yo

ill your fat

l be two mo

n Switzerland. Your

your love would have raised me if I had lain at the point of death. I cannot leave England alone; I have ma

ercome by force of passion. There was something terrible to him in the disclosure of a quiet force of will equal to

th pleading as passio

e with an intolerable suspicion. At the same mom

could not think that

to come to Lo

lfr

th passionate resen

asked, with tremulous, subdued earnestness, f

s breath, 'in a moment when

ce which followed he appeared to be examining the shapeless ruins,

stroyed?' he asked prese

Emily's face was strung into a hard intensity. He laid

he borders of hate. I know that your mind is incapable of such a suspicion

r voice which might have become either a laugh or a sob.

love yen so terribly if you were not that perfection of womanhood to which a

face! It was hard for her to find words that

s. Are we not one already, dear? Why should you needlessly make your life poorer by the loss-if only for a time-of all the old kindnesses?

as make a week,' h

nd hard to realise that the new

e of your wisdom! But you have a t

aight to the Con

th one p

d t

to my judgment

all be in y

All the afternoon no footsteps had come near; it was the sight of two stran

e what fables I shall have to invent on the way hom

here is a mail some time to-night? I wil

l be! Two such jou

ife between them. But even now t

thing

the lips that

, in spite of a heaviness at the heart like that which she had felt on leaving The Firs. She meant at first to go no f

said. 'Then you can look at the time-tab

ce. At the village station, Wilfrid discovered that a good train left Dunfield shortly a

other passenger was waiting, and the official

, putting off from instant to instant the

I shall leave London e

give you no t

n as you can to the castle, that I

go ver

s. As she spoke, the station-master appeared. They moved

in to-night as it pas

d-good-bye. To Emily the way was dark

work of the day was pretty well over. Years ago, Mrs. Hood had not lacked interest in certain kinds of reading, but the miseries of her life had killed all that; the need of mechanical exertion was consta

rasted strangely with an almost haggard weariness on her face. 'You will give me up

ply, as Mrs. Hood went to stir the fire.

tea. I really want not

o make tea for one,' said

n I will make it this minut

ain. He gets more a

o beyond the proper time

somebody else's as well. Of course, they find that out, and they put upon him. I've t

of the walk from Dunfield was always a struggle with exhaustion. He had to sit se

ands had put him into good spirits. 'Jessie got home on Saturday, and wants yo

will,' s

ould have to work in her holidays; and I'm sure it's all no use; Jessie C

ight taking home fruit and flowers which cost a pretty penny, I'll be bound. And her talk! I thought I should never get away. There's o

sed making fun of those poor Wilkinses; it really was all I could do to keep from telling her she ought to be ashamed of herself. Mary Wilkins, at all events, makes no pretences; she may be

n they're very young. They oughtn't to have so much of their own way. What

ers for a time. I think she'll have to come here for her les

h the physical fatigue which possessed him during his few hours of freedom would in any case have condemned him to mere trifling. Often he came upstairs, lit his lamp, and sat for a couple of hours doing nothing more than play with his instruments, much as a child might; at other times a sudden revival of zeal would declare itself, and he would read and experiment till late in the night, always in fear of the inevitable lecture on his reckless waste of lamp-oil. In the winter time the temperature of this garret was arctic, and fireplace there was none; still he could not intermit his custom of spending at least an hour in what he called scie

' he asked, with the diffidence wh

r the roof. It was all but dark by this time; Mr. Hood found matches on the table and lit the lamp, which illuminated the bare whitewashed walls and sloping ceiling with a

leaving it

' he assented with

in the sky is ple

own faint, and the strokes of each hour that it gave forth were wheezed with intervals of several se

word now and then, but her sense of hearing was strained to its utmost for other sounds. There was no traffic in the road below, and the house itself was hushed; the ticking of the old clock, performed with

sting. Nitrous oxide, you know, is what they call Laughing Gas. You heat

n flamed. A train was passing a quarter of a mile away, and the furnace-door of the engine had just been opened to feed the fire, whose strength sped the carriages to far-off

d. 'Ah! pretty sight that fire on the smoke.