And in making that discovery, she also awoke to the fact in her case—a most unhappy one—that as a woman, she loved. To whom could she tell that love? there was but one, Dora, and her secresy had engendered coldness. In the candour of her heart she had asked Miles why Dora had sought him that morning? but he merely attributed it to accident, and Dora's silence, made her convinced some other motive had induced her to seek him. Of his love towards herself she had no assurance—no promise—no pledge. She met him this day because he asked her to do so, to sketch with, and talk to him. More than once she had been on the point of telling "dear aunt Dorcas" all—her heart abhorred deceit; but then, when next she met Miles, he implored her so earnestly not to do so, that her lips became sealed; besides, until this day the meetings had been accidental—though hoped for, by her, watched for, by him.
"Minnie Dalzell," he said, "think what I should be here, were I prevented from seeing you; here I must remain a while. I have some business which forces my stay, and none to speak with but Farmer Weld's family; though good, excellent people, yet think how lost I should be without 'Baby Minnie' and her sketch-book to superintend and correct?"
And "Baby Minnie" feeling no harm to herself, certainly no wrong to another—held her peace "for pity's sake." "Should he ever say any thing more—more tender," she added, after a pause in her soliloquy, "then I'll tell aunt Dorcas!" Was it policy on his part not to startle, till he had secured, his timid bird? or was it that he really did not love her, that kept him silent? A little of both. He was not quite sure of his own heart; it had been so bound up in the one great object of his life, that he feared lest he were incapable of loving Minnie as she should be loved; he was perfectly unselfish. Accustomed to deep suffering, he would rather have gone, leaving his love untold, and bearing even the charge, on her part, of being a mere trifler, than give her only a half affection. It was true his heart bounded when they met, and every moment in her absence was a thought of love for her. He walked alone, and conversed alone, to the spirit at his side, ever present with him; but he knew man's nature so completely under the control of his passions, that for her sake he resolved to prove his own heart before he offered it to her. If he felt he ever could change, or love another, then would he leave without awakening her to the knowledge of her own affection, which he saw, but looked upon as a fledgling, which, by some accident, might never take wing.
"Again here!" she said, on the day we have spoken of, in the old ruin. "Do you know this must terminate soon? Dora will return, and Mr. Skaife; and when he is here, Aunt Dorcas generally accompanies me, with him to escort us."
"But not riding. She is not a horsewoman, you say?"
"True; but Mr. Skaife, at her request, becomes my companion, then Dora will be with me every day."
"Do you mean, Miss Dalzell, that I am never to see you?" and something like a sigh escaped him.
"Oh! I hope not, indeed. I should feel grieved at so sad a termination to our many pleasant hours together; but what can be done to smooth our rugged path, for we cannot disguise from ourselves that a very rugged one lies between us?"
"I never forget that! Would to heaven I could remove it! Time may—will, I should say," he cried, with energy; "but, to accomplish that glorious end, I must toil—toil—toil, and far away from this place, and——" he was going to say "you," he substituted "Yorkshire."
"'Tis very hard that, when we have known one another from childhood——"