"You do not know, you do not know," she said hurriedly and alarmed that she had allowed him to guess even so little as he had; "but I must not say more now. Do not talk about this now, Harry, please. I will think over what you have said. In a day or two I shall see things more clearly, and I will write to you."
"And say in your letter 'Come to me.' Will you promise that."
"When I write it will be to ask you to come to me, Harry."
"That will be delicious! to receive from you, your first love-letter, and with that sweet invitation in it, too. How anxiously I shall look for it each day!"
He gave her the nosegay he had gathered, and slowly they retraced their steps to the merry party under the great oak tree. Then the doctor had to leave them to catch his train to town, and he walked off with the proud step and the glad eye of a true man who has won his sweetheart.
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE TAKING AWAY OF THE SHADOW.
When her lover had gone, a strong inclination came over Mary to be alone for a time, she felt so perplexed and yet so happy. Taking in her hand the nosegay of wild flowers he had gathered for her, she went off by herself for a stroll in the woods, to think quietly over all that had happened and that was to be. One moment the idea that she might some day call the man she loved so dearly by the sweet name of husband, made her heart beat quick with delight. The next moment her hope died out, and she shuddered as she thought of that secret of hers which must surely divide them for ever. How was it all to end? But, on the whole, she felt very happy. She could not feel miserable on this day. A great part of the shadow had already been cleared away. Possibly, but how she could not tell, the rest would go too—she even felt sure that it would be so soon.