“But there’s no steamer at this hour.”
“One of the field hands rowed her up to Mayport; there she was to take a wagon, and drive inland to a railway station.”
“She could only hit the Western Road.”
“Yes; but she can make a connection, farther on, which will enable her to reach Charleston by to-morrow night.”
“I shall be twelve hours behind her, then; the first steamer leaves this evening. You are a traitor, Cicely! Why didn’t you let me know?”
“She did not wish it.”
“I know what she wishes.”
“Yes, she loves you—if you mean that. But—I agree with her.”
“Agree with her how?”
“That the barrier is too great. You would end by hating her,” said Cicely.