Mattie sat down a little distance from him, and their eyes met steadily once more, and flinched not.
"Now, Sidney!"
CHAPTER VIII.
"DECLINED WITH THANKS."
It had come at last, that day of explanation. Mattie would not give way therein; she had long prepared for it, prayed for strength to sever all past ties, and leave him ignorant, if possible, of her real thoughts concerning him. Whatever happened, she would be firm, she thought; and now with Sidney before her, she did not feel that she should waver. An artificial strength it might be, but it would support her throughout that interview, whatever might be the reaction after he had passed from her sight, never to see her again, if she could hinder him.
Ann Packet, who had been out on divers errands, stepped into the shop at this juncture, marked the occupants of the parlour, and went immediately behind the counter, to attend to business during that interview, and confuse the accounts inextricably, supposing that there was any business likely to drift that way just then.
Mattie and Sidney had the little room all to themselves, and there was no likelihood of being disturbed. "Now, Mattie"—"Now, Sidney," had been said between them, and then each waited for the next words—as a duellist might wait for the sword's-point aimed at his heart.
Mattie spoke first. It was evident that Sidney Hinchford would have waited all day.
"A few days before you went away from here, Sidney," said Mattie, "you asked me a question, and I promised that in good time, and with due consideration, I would reply to it. Do you wish that question answered now?"