A sound approached, a firm footstep, falling with strong elasticity and such regular cadences, that it seemed to chime in with the pine-tree music, and did not startle her till it came so near that there was distinctive character to be discerned in the tread, and then with a strange, new shyness, she would have
slipped away, but she had been seen, and Humfrey, with his timber race in his hand, appeared on the path, exclaiming, ‘Ah, Honor, is it you come out to meet me, like old times? You have been so much taken up with your friend Master Owen that I have scarcely seen you of late.’
Honor did not move away, but she blushed deeply as she said, ‘I am afraid I did not come to meet you, Humfrey.’
‘No? What, you came for the sake of a brown study? I wish I had known you were not busy, for I have been round all the woods marking timber.’
‘Ah!’ said she, rousing herself with some effort, ‘I wonder how many trees I should have saved from the slaughter. Did you go and condemn any of my pets?’
‘Not that I know of,’ said Humfrey. ‘I have touched nothing near the house.’
‘Not even the old beech that was scathed with lightning? You know papa says that is the touchstone of influence; Sarah and Mr. West both against me,’ laughed Honora, quite restored to her natural manner and confiding ease.
‘The beech is likely to stand as long as you wish it,’ said Humfrey, with an unaccustomed sort of matter-of-fact gravity, which surprised and startled her, so as to make her bethink herself whether she could have behaved ill about it, been saucy to Sarah, or the like.
‘Thank you,’ she said; ‘have I made a fuss—?’
‘No, Honor,’ he said, with deliberate kindness, shutting up his knife, and putting it into his pocket; ‘only I believe it is time we should come to an understanding.’