He was more impressed than alarmed. This side of her character had been presented to him to-night for the first time. Hitherto the beautiful girl had been all smiles and humble devotion. Was she bewitched, or had he been mistaken in her. Perhaps it was the moon, but suddenly his face looked paler than ever, and the white eyelids drooped until they hid the shifting eyes, as he put his arm around her.
“My dearest! What can you mean? Deceive you! Treachery! Can you deem me—me—capable of such things. My dearest, you are overtired! And your jacket has become unbuttoned. Listen, that is the railway bell. Laura, you will not leave me with such words on your lips?”
“Forgive me, Stephen.”
“I have done so already, dearest, and now we must part! It is very hard—but—I cannot even go with you to the platform. Someone might see us. It is for your sake, darling.”
“Yes, yes, I know,” she said, with a sigh. “Good-bye—you will write or come to me—when?”
“Soon, in a day or two,” he said. “Do not be impatient. There is much to be done; my poor uncle’s funeral, you know. Good-bye. See! I will stay here and watch the train off. Good-bye, dear, dear Laura!”
She put her arm round him and returned his kiss, and glided away, but at the turn of the road leading to the station she turned and, holding up her hand, sent a word back to him.
It was:
“Remember!”
Stephen waited until the train puffed out of the station, and not until it had flashed some distance did the set smile leave his face.