Mrs. Thornton suddenly rose, and, walking to the window, looked out. “I wonder if it will rain to-day!” she said, in a sweet voice, full of a tremulous melancholy.
“There are very dark clouds about,” returned Despard, mournfully.
“I hope there will not be a storm,” she rejoined, with the same sadness. Her hands were held tightly together. “Some things will perish if a storm comes.”
“Let us pray that there may be calm and peace,” said Despard.
She turned and looked at him for a moment. Strange that these two should pass so quickly from gayety to gloom! Their eyes met, and each read in the face of the other sadness beyond words.
CHAPTER XIV. — TWO LETTERS.
Despard did not go back to the Grange for some days. About a week had passed since the scenes narrated in the preceding chapter when one morning, having finished his breakfast, he went into his library and sat down at the table to write. A litter of papers lay all around. The walls were covered with shelves, filled with books. The table was piled high with ponderous tomes. Manuscripts were strewn around, and books were scattered on the floor. Yet, amidst all this disorder, some order was apparent, for many of these books lay open in certain places, and others were arranged so as to be within reach.
Several sheets of paper, covered with writing, lay before him, headed, “The Byzantine Poets.” The books were all in Greek. It was the library of a hard-working student.