“I’m not bearing it, I’m trying to escape it. I am giving in just as mother always said I should. And all because I like to feel that a man like Major Clare admires me. And I can’t even tell Malcolm that I am sorry.”
Tears filled her eyes and dimmed the long rows of cabbages. Emberance said a little prayer to herself, and made up her mind. She would stick to her true love and to her true self. Not bound indeed! Did not her conscience bind her?
“Ah, Miss Kingsworth, good morning. I am just coming from your house. Mrs Kingsworth gave me a hope of meeting you.”
Emberance turned with a violent blush to see Major Clare standing beside her.
“Is this a favourite walk of yours?” he said as she gave him a confused greeting.
“Yes,” said Emberance, “it is.”
“From a fine sense of natural beauty?” said Major Clare, lightly.
“No,” said Emberance, as bluntly as Kate could have, spoken. “It’s not pretty. But I don’t care about that.”
“Indeed, there are times when outward beauty makes very little difference to us!”
“Yes,” said Emberance, “but it would not do for me to think very much about places being pretty,—or particularly comfortable, because,—because I’m not likely to live in pretty or comfortable places.”