Rose looked inquiringly at Violet; but Violet averted her head. Julius was troubled to perceive the evident anger of Marmaduke.
The boats pushed off. The evening was exquisite, and Rose murmured to Julius the words of their favourite Leopardi:—
Dolce e chiara è la notte, e senza vento,
E queta sovra i tetti e in mezzo agli orti
Posa la luna, e di lontan rivela
Serena ogni montagna.
Wearied by the excitement of the day, they were almost all plunged in reveries from which they made no effort to escape. The regular dip of the oars in the water, and the falling drops shaken from them, had a musical cadence, which fell deliciously on the ear. It was a dreamy scene. The moon rose, and shed her gentle light upon them, as they moved along, in almost unbroken silence, upon the silver stream. The last twitter of the birds had ceased; the regular and soothing sounds of the oars alone kept them in a sort of half consciousness of being awake.
Marmaduke and Violet were suffering tortures. She occasionally stole a glance at him, and with redoubled pain read upon his haughty face the expression of anger and doubt which so much distressed her. The large tears rolled over her face. She leaned over the boat side to hide them, and as she saw the river hurrying on beneath her, she thought of the unhappy Cecil, and of his untimely end. Over his dishonoured corpse had this cold river flowed, as gently as now it flowed beneath her... From Cecil her thoughts wandered to Wytton Hall, and her early inclination for him—to her scene in the field with the bull—to her first meeting with Marmaduke; and then she thought no more of Cecil.
Thus they were rowed through the silent evening. On reaching town, the party dispersed.
Marmaduke and Violet separated with cold politeness, and each went home to spend a miserable night.
For some days did Marmaduke brood over her refusal, and as he reflected on the strength of her character, and the slight probability that she would ever yield—her very frankness told him that—he took a sudden and very loverlike resolution that he would quit England, and return to Brazil.
Preparations for his departure were not delayed an instant, and with his usual impetuosity he had completed every arrangement before another would have fairly commenced.
Leave-taking began. He wrote to Vyner announcing his intention, and saying that he proposed doing himself the pleasure of bidding them adieu. He had the faint hope, which was very faint, that Violet might be present, and that he might see her for the last time. Lovers attach a very particular importance to a last farewell, and angry as Marmaduke was with Violet, the idea of quitting England for ever, without once more seeing her, was extremely painful to him.