“He has forbidden me to speak,” she said to herself, with a glow of triumph in her eyes, “but it will come about all the same. He loves Glynne with all his heart, and the love of such a man as he is cannot change. Glynne is beginning, too; and when she quite finds it out, she will never go and swear faith to that miserable Rolph. I am going to wait and let things arrange themselves, as I’m sure they will.”
The object of her thoughts was not going on with the astronomical calculation, but pacing the observatory to and fro, with his brow knit, and a feverish energy burning in his brain.
Volume Two—Chapter Eleven.
The Doctor Brings Alleyne down.
About an hour later Oldroyd called; and, as the bell jangled at the gate and Eliza went slowly down, Lucy’s face turned crimson, and she ran to the window and listened, to hear the enquiry,—“Is your mistress in?”
That was enough. The whole scene of that particular morning walk came back with a repetition of the agony of mind. She saw Rolph in his ludicrous undress, striding along the sandy road; she heard again his maundering civilities, and she saw, too, the figure of Oldroyd seated upon the miller’s pony, passing them, and afterwards blocking the way.
It was he, now, seated upon the same pony; and, without waiting to hear Eliza’s answer, Lucy fled to her bedroom and locked herself in, to begin sobbing and crying in the most ridiculous manner.
“No, sir,” said Eliza, with a bob; “she’ve gone to town shopping, but Miss Lucy’s in the drawing-room.”