Mary Ross was still absent; her six nephews and nieces having taken advantage of her visit to have the measles, not like reasonable children, all at once, so as to be one trouble, but one after the other, so as to keep Aunt Mary with them as long as possible; and Mr. Ross did not know what would have become of the female department of his parish but for Laura, who worked at school-keeping indefatigably.
Laura had some difficulty in shaking off Charlotte’s company this afternoon, and was obliged to make the most of the probability of rain, and the dreadful dirt of the roads. Indeed, she represented it as so formidable, that Mrs. Edmonstone, who had hardly time to look out of window, much less to go out of doors, strongly advised her to stay at home herself; and Charlotte grew all the more eager for the fun. Luckily, however, for Laura, Dr. Mayerne came in, laughing at the reports of the weather; and as he was wanted to prescribe for a poor old man in an opposite direction, he took Charlotte with him to show the way, and she was much better pleased to have him for a companion than the grave Laura.
Philip, in the meantime, had walked all the way to Broadstone, timing his return exactly, that he might meet Laura as she came out of the school, and feel as if it had been by chance. It was a gray, misty November day, and the leaves of the elm-trees came floating round them, yellow and damp.
‘You have had a wet walk,’ said Laura, as they met.
‘It is not quite raining,’ he answered; and they proceeded for some minutes in silence, until he said,—‘It is time we should come to an understanding.’
She looked at him in alarm, and his voice was immediately gentler; indeed, at times it was almost inaudible from his strong emotion. ‘I believe that no affection has ever been stronger or truer than ours.’
‘Has been!’ repeated Laura, in a wondering, bewildered voice.
‘And is, if you are satisfied to leave things as they are.’
‘I must be, if you are.’
‘I will not say I am satisfied with what must be, as I am situated; but I felt it due to you to set the true state of the case before you. Few would venture their love as I do mine with you, bound in reality, though not formally, with no promise sought or given; yet I am not more assured that I stand here than I am that our love is for ever.’