Soon he spoke; and his words at first seemed to her very far afield, though there was that in his unsteadied voice which reassured her beyond speech.
"Would you mind stopping at the hotel—only a minute? I—have an old enemy there, and I feel that I must see him."
"Oh, no, no!—must you? Oh, please—I can't let you go now! And I am afraid—afraid of what might happen—"
She stopped on that, somehow gathering without looking at him that she had not followed his thought.
"I want to take him by the hand," said Varney, "and tell him that it's all right now."
There was a light carriage-robe about them, for the vanished sun had left the breath of autumn in the air; and beneath it her hand, from which the white glove had been stripped, touched and was suddenly gathered into his own. A glorious tremble shot through his body; and now he could turn his shining face fully toward her.
"You aren't thinking that I could keep an enemy to-day!"
As the carriage stopped before the hotel entrance, he added:
"And I must tell him not to bother Peter any more. You see, Peter's a fine man, but he hasn't got my reasons for being—in love with all the world. I—I—I hate to go. Our first parting has come soon. But—this is a duty, and—and—good-bye!"
She never forgot the look upon his face.