'I loved Roland all my life—better than my own soul; but such a love as mine is too often only its own best reward; and many a sore heart like mine learns that never in this world is it measured to us again as we have meted it out.'
Thus bitterly had the girl been pondering, when she found herself suddenly face to face with the subject of her reverie, and, in spite of herself, a little cloud was blended with the astonishment her eyes expressed.
'Hester—what mystery is this? And are you not glad to see me?' he asked impetuously.
'Glad—oh, Roland! glad indeed, and that you escaped that dreadful day at Kirbekan!' she replied, while her eyes became humid now.
'God bless you, my darling!' he exclaimed, as all his soul seemed suddenly to go forth to her, and he would have drawn her to him; but she thought of Annot Drummond, and fell back a pace. 'Hester,' said he upbraidingly, 'will you not accord me one kiss, darling?'
She grew pale now, for she feared that her welcome had been more cordial than he had any right to expect; but the circumstances were peculiar, their place and mode of meeting alike strange and unexpected; but it was impossible for her not to guess, to read in his eyes, in fact, all the tender passion of love, esteem, and kinship that filled his heart for her now.
'How well you are looking, Hester, after all you must have suffered—some of the old rose's hue is back to your cheek, darling.'
'Don't speak thus, Roland—I—I——' she faltered.
'Why not, Hester? You loved me, I know, even as I loved you.'
'Before that beautiful little hypocrite and adventuress came,' said she, with quiet bitterness, 'I certainly did love you, Roland——'