Unable to talk more with Lyle, Olive re-entered the Parsonage. Harold sat reading.
“Have you long come in?” she asked in a somewhat trembling voice.
He answered, “About an hour.”
“I did not see you enter.”
“It was not likely; you were engaged with my brother-in-law. Therefore I would not disturb you, but took my book.”
He spoke in the abrupt, cold manner he sometimes used. Olive thought something had happened to annoy him. She sat down and talked with him until the cloud passed away.
Many times during the evening Lyle renewed his lamentations over Miss Rothesay's journey; but Harold never uttered one word of regret. When Olive departed, however, he offered to accompany her home.
“Nay—it is such a rainy night—perhaps”——
“Very well, since you choose it so,” and he sat down again. But Olive saw she had wounded his pride, only his pride; she said this to her heart, to keep down its unconscious thrill. She replied, hesitatingly:
“Still, as we shall not have many more walks together, if”——