“Don’t be afraid; it is nothing tangible, though it is something that you may not think worth accepting.”
“What do you mean?” she said bluntly, for her interest was aroused.
“Don’t be angry. My present is only the offer of myself as your sincere friend.”
She blushed vividly as she answered,
“You are very kind. I have never had but one friend—Mr. Fraser; but, if you think you can like me enough, it will make me very happy to be your friend too.” And in another second she was gone, with her ravens flying after her, to receive her present and a jobation from Pigott for being late, and to eat her breakfast with such appetite as an entirely new set of sensations can give.
In the garden she met her father, walking up and down before the house, and informed him that she had been talking to Mr. Heigham. He looked up with a curious expression of interest.
“Why did you not ask him in to breakfast?” he said.
“Because there is nothing to eat except bread and milk.”
“Ah!—well, perhaps you were right. I will go down and speak to him. No; I forgot I shall see him this afternoon.”
And Arthur, let those who disbelieve in love at first sight laugh if they will, sat down to think, trembling in every limb, utterly shaken by the inrush of a new and strong emotion. He had not come to the age of twenty-four without some experience of the other sex, but never before had he known any such sensation as that which now overpowered him, never before had he fully realized what solitude meant as he did now that she had left him. In youth, when love does come, he comes as a strong man armed.