Ah, me; how can I proceed; how write down what follows? The fruit was to fall and never for me. The blossoms of the garden were to be scattered underfoot and trodden upon and their sweet perfume embittered in death.
As we walked down the platform a voice hailing me made the blood jump in my heart.
“Renny—Renny! What brings you here? Why, what a coincidence! Well met, old fellow! And I say, won’t you introduce me?”
“Miss Mellison—this is my brother.” I almost added a curse under my breath.
I was striving hard for self-command, but my voice would only issue harsh and mechanical. He had overreached me—had watched, of course, and followed secretly in pursuit.
“How delighted I am to meet you,” he said. “Here was I—only lately come to London, Miss Mellison—sick for country air again and looking to nothing better than a lonely tramp through the forest and fate throws a whole armful of roses at me. Are you going there, too? Do let me come with you.”
Dolly looked timidly up at me. We had left the station and were standing on the road outside.
“Oh, Miss Mellison’s shy in company,” I said. “Let’s each go our way and we can meet at the station this evening.”
“I’m sure you won’t echo that,” said Jason, looking smilingly at the girl. “I see heaven before me and he wants to shut me out. There’s an unnatural brother for you.”
“It seems unkind, don’t it, Renny? We hadn’t thought to give you the slip, Mr. Trender. Why, really, till now I didn’t even know of your existence.”