"But you will leave us?"
Harrington left his seat, and began to pace the room, as was his habit, when conflicting thoughts beset him. Mabel followed his movements sadly with her eyes, which were eloquent of a thousand gentle feelings.
"And you will go?" she said at last, with a quiver of the voice. "You will leave us all?"
"No," answered Harrington with energy, "I will not go. Why undertake a pilgrimage when there is nothing to gain, and nothing to avoid."
"Thank you—thank you," said Mabel, with her eyes full of tears.
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE LOVE SONG.
There was a slight stir in the hall, and Ralph came into Mrs. Harrington's room followed by Lina, both brilliant and smiling, as if the conservatory in which they had loitered away the hours, had bathed them with the perfume of its blossoms.
"Oh, mamma, it is so pleasant!" cried Lina, stealing forward and seating herself on a cushion at Mabel's feet. "Isn't this a beautiful, beautiful day?"
"All days are beautiful to the light-hearted," answered Mabel, burying her hand fondly in the golden curls that fell, a perfect network of light, from Lina's drooping head. "I thought it very dull and heavy this morning; now, the air seems invigorating as old wine. Still, I think the day itself has changed but little."