William was not talking, but sat with his eyes fixed on the snuffer-tray, with an intense gravity of gaze that quite troubled her, and she could not help again blaming herself.
"To be sure! Aunt was right; he could not help his thoughts. I will try to forget it," thought she.
Now, you must not think Mary was sitting still and gazing during this soliloquy. No, she was talking and laughing, apparently the most unconcerned spectator in the room. So passed the evening till the little company broke up.
"I am ready to attend you home," said William, in a tone of cold and almost haughty deference.
"I am obliged to you," said the young lady, in a similar tone, "but I shall stay all night;" then, suddenly changing her tone, she said, "No, I cannot keep it up any longer. I will go home with you, Cousin William."
"Keep up what?" said William, with surprise.
Mary was gone for her bonnet. She came out, took his arm, and walked on a little way.
"You have advised me always to be frank, cousin," said Mary, "and I must and will be; so I shall tell you all, though I dare say it is not according to rule."
"All what?" said William.
"Cousin," said she, not at all regarding what he said, "I was very much vexed this afternoon."