On arriving, Despard assisted Mrs. Thornton from the carriage and offered his arm. She took it, but her hand rested so lightly on it that its touch was scarce perceptible. They walked around through the illuminated paths. Great crowds of people were there. All looked with respectful pleasure at Mrs. Thornton and the Rector.
“You ought to be glad that you have come,” said she. “See how these poor people feel it: we are not persons of very great consequence, yet our presence is marked and enjoyed.”
“All places are alike to me,” answered Despard, “when I am with you. Still, there are circumstances about this which will make it forever memorable to me.”
“Look at those lights,” exclaimed Mrs. Thornton, suddenly; “what varied colors!”
“Let us walk into that grotto,” said Despard, turning toward a cool, dark place which lay before them.
Here, at the end of the grotto, was a tree, at the foot of which was a seat. They sat down and staid for hours. In the distance the lights twinkled and music arose. They said little, but listened to the confused murmur which in the pauses of the music came up from afar.
Then they rose and walked back. Entering the principal path a great crowd streamed on which they had to face.
Despard sighed. “You and I,” said he, stooping low and speaking in a sad voice, “are compelled to go against the tide.”
“Shall we turn back and go with it?”
“We can not.”