There was silence. Louis heard an occasional groaning sigh from his father, and sat still, with feelings strongly moved, and impelled to one of his sudden and impetuous resolutions.
The next morning, he ordered his horse, saying he would bring the last report from the Terrace.
That afternoon, Mrs. Ponsonby observed a tremulousneas in Mary's hand, and a willingness to keep her face turned away; and, on more minute glances, a swelling of the eyelids was detected.
'My dear,' said Mrs. Ponsonby, 'you should take a walk to-day. Pray go out with the Conways.'
'Oh no, thank you, mamma.'
'If the cousins come in from Ormersfield, I shall tell Louis to take you to look at his farm. It would be very good for you—My dear, what is it?' for Mary's ears and neck, all that she could see, were crimson.
'Oh, mamma! he has been doing it again. I did not mean to have told you—' said Mary, the strong will to be calm forcing back the tears and even the flush.
'Nay, dear child, nothing can hurt me now. You must let me share all with you to the last. What did you say to him?'
'I told him that I could not think of such things now,' said Mary, almost indignantly.
'And he?'