'Where is he?'
'He's gone to Australia. He wrote to me about two months ago to say that all had been decided in a few hours, and that he was to sail next morning. He's gone out with some racehorses, and expects to win a lot of money. He'll be back again in a year.'
'A year isn't long to wait; you'll see him when he comes back.'
'I don't think I should care to see him again. Oh, you were right, Alice, to warn me against him. I was foolish not to listen to you, but it was too late even then.'
Alice trembled; she had already guessed the truth, but hoping when she knew all hope was vain, she said:
'You had better tell me, May; you know I am to be trusted.'
'Can't you guess it?'
The conversation fell, and the girls sat staring into the depths of the wood. Involuntarily their eyes followed a small bird that ran up branch after branch of a beech-tree, pecking as it went. It seemed like a toy mouse, so quick and unvarying were its movements. At last May said, and very dolorously:
'Alice, I thought you were kinder; haven't you a word of pity? Why tell you, why ask me to tell you? Oh! what a fool I was!'
'Oh! no, no, May, you did right to tell me. I am more sorry for you than words can express, and I didn't speak because I was trying to think of some way of helping you.'