I, too, had forgotten it.
“There is no pain left,” was my answer. “Go away with him, he troubles me.”
“And me!” was the murmured reply.
They went away together, leaving me alone with my great happiness.
It is said that love gives beauty to all material things. It may be so with others, but to me nature looked faded and insignificant that day. I longed for a rainbow in the skies; for a carpet of blossoms under my feet; for the breath of roses in every gush of air. Nothing but heaven could have matched the beautiful joy of my soul.
For three days my rich contentment lasted. During that time I scarcely seemed to have a mortal feeling. When fancy could sustain itself no longer, came the material want of his presence. My heart had fed upon its one memory over and over again. Now it grew hungry for fresh certainties. I began to think of the future, to speculate and doubt. Why had he kept away? Where was he now? Had I been dreaming—only dreaming?
I did not observe Turner and Maria in their new relations. At another time their awkward tenderness and shy love-making would have amused me, but now I scarcely remarked it, and in their embarrassment they forgot to notice me.
Perhaps they would have detected nothing remarkable had they been ever so vigilant, for I was self-centred in my own happiness, and joy like mine was too deep and dreamy for easy detection.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
MY FIRST VISIT TO GREENHURST—THE TWO MINIATURES.
On the third day, Lady Catherine sent for me to come up to the Hurst. It seems she was resolved to carry out her plan of giving me such accomplishments as I could pick up, without expense, from her son’s tutor, and her own waiting-maid.