Yes?
And said he met Mr Cyril in the lane leading to Kilby Farm.
Indeed!
Yes, sir; and he was walking up and down as if he expected somebody to come.
Part 1, Chapter XXVI. An Interruption
The earlier days of Sage Portlocks maidenhood had glided peacefully away. She had had her troubles and annoyances like the rest of the world, but they were little, and barely ruffled the even current of her life.
She had been troubled somewhat over her sisters love affair with Frank Mallow, and had been Rues confidante. Now that stormy time had passed away, and she had smiled over the wedding with John Berry, and laughingly accepted her position of Aunt Sage to the two little children that were born.
Luke Ross had been her playmate till a tenderer attachment had sprang up as girlhood passed into womanhood, and the boy became a thoughtful man. There was a thrill of pride ready to run through her, making the colour suffuse her cheeks, as she knew that she was loved; and with the thought came a proud elation that made her feel happier than she believed she had ever felt before.
But that was all. She loved Luke, she told herself, very dearly, and some day she would be his wife; but she felt happy enough when he went away to London, and somehow, though she used to consider that she was the happiest of women, his calm, trusting letters did not seem to awaken any echoes in her heart; while hers to him were pleasant little bits of gossipping prattle, ending with the dear love of yours very, very affectionately, Sage.
Yes, she was very fond of Luke, she used to say to herself, and by and by they would be so happy together; but she felt in no hurry for by and by to come. Existence was very pleasant as it was, and once she was back in Lawford from the training institution and engaged in the school, she seemed to wish for nothing more.
Luke Ross wrote, and twice during his absence there he came home, and they had very pleasant walks and chats, and were very boy-and-girlish together, laughing away till a serious fit would come on, when they discussed the future, the cost of housekeeping, and she laughed merrily again at the idea of being Lukes little housekeeper and wife.
But there was no passionate attachment on her side no tears at meeting or at parting. All was wonderfully matter-of-fact. She was very happy, she felt, and she could see that Luke was, and what more could she desire?
Then came the change, and Sage was face to face with the fact that she had promised herself to a man for whom she had never entertained a warmer feeling than that of friendship, or the love of a sister for brother, and that at last she had found her fate.
Was it a feeling of rapturous delight?
Far from it; for from that day her nights were sleepless, and too often her pillow was wet
addressed her for one full of impassioned meaning. Sage, I love you with all my heart, and when you treat me with such cruel coldness, it makes me half mad, and I say to you as I say now, what have I done?
Oh, hush! hush! she panted. You must not speak to me like that. Mr Cyril, I beg I implore you never to address me again. You know you must know that I am engaged to Mr Ross.
Engaged to Mr Ross! he said, bitterly. It is not true. There is no engagement between you.
It is true, she panted, hurrying on, and trembling for her weakness, as she felt how strongly her heart was pleading for him, who kept pace with her, and twice had laid his hand, as if to stop her, upon her arm.
I have your aunts assurance that it is not true, he continued; and I have hoped, Sage, I have dared to believe, that you were not really fond of this man.
Mr Cyril, I beg I implore you to leave me, she cried.
If I left you now, he said, hoarsely, feeling what I feel, knowing what I know, it would be to plunge into some miserable, reckless course that might end who can say how? What have I to live for if you refuse me your love?
How can you be so cruel to me? she cried, angrily. You insult me by these words, Mr Cyril I am alone, and you take advantage of my position. You know I am engaged to Mr Ross.
I do not, he retorted, passionately. I do not believe it; and I never will believe it till I see you his wife. His wife! he continued. It is absurd. You will never be Luke Rosss wife. It is impossible.
I will not I cannot talk to you, she cried, increasing her pace. It was on her lips to add, I dare not; but she checked herself in time, as she glanced sidewise at him, for with a feeling of misery and despair, strangely mingled with pleasure, she felt that all her good resolutions were being swept away by her companions words, and, in an agony of shame and dread lest he should read her thoughts, she once more hurried her steps.
You cannot throw me off like that, he said, bitterly. I will not be pitched over in this contemptuous manner. Only the other day you looked kindly and tenderly at me.
Oh no, no, no, she cried, it is not true.
It is true enough, he said, sadly, and I mean to be patient. I cannot believe you care for this man. It is impossible, and I shall wait.