That last assertion alone moved William; he remembered how skeptical he had been when she had advised him to return to Clarissa; she was right then, and he had no reason to question her until he had found her advice to be incorrect, at least once.
The first thought to arise in his mind was "Why did Clarissa come here?" She had sent word to him and Augustus she was ill and could not join them in their morning meal, but she was evidently not too ill to visit comparative strangers, so he had no desire to force his presence upon her, but Alice said she wanted to see her. He remained silent for a while, then said, "If you want to see her, go to her."
The words were scarcely out of his mouth, when Alice arose with closed eyes and walked out of the room. William hardly knew what to do; he wanted to follow her to see what transpired, but his sensitive pride said "She will think you forced the girl to come," and that thought determined his action. He did not move. He waited and waited, still she did not come. What was she doing? Why did they not come to him, knowing he was waiting? Still he waited, too proud to go to them; then he thought that Alice ought not to be controlled so long. As this thought entered his mind, she came into the room, alone.
She looked wan and tired, and walked past him to the place of her entrancement, and, drawing a long sigh as she laid her head back, said "I am going to her tomorrow. She will not come here," then her head drooped wearily. He did not feel he ought to force her further, although he was filled with a jealous longing to know what had transpired.
She said nothing more, although he allowed her to remain in a trance condition for some time. How keen his disappointment at the result of the interview he had looked forward to was, no one save himself would ever know. He hoped Clarissa was as pleased as he was disappointed. He would have liked to know what had passed between them. As he was thinking thus, he felt arms around his neck, drawing him closely and affectionately, and looking up, surprised and astonished, he saw—Clarissa.
She bent over him quickly, and drawing him closer still, and said, "Wake her, William, she must be tired." He would have gone cheerfully, even to his execution, while she held him thus, looking into his eyes with that expression of love. His arms went around her, and he said, almost unconsciously, "Wake, Alice. Alice, are you awake?"
He did not notice her answer, and Alice, feeling confused at seeing them in their fond embrace, at once left the room, without being noticed by either. They were engrossed with their own feelings. Clarissa spoke first.
"William,—she helped me so much. Will you not try to help me be what she says I can be? Do not move, dear. I have not finished yet. I promised her I would tell you how much I loved you, but I cannot keep that promise, for words do not express the full sentiment of the heart. I love you more than words can tell. You know that, even if I am irritable and distant."
"Clarissa, you and I have much to thank Alice for;—how little I realized when I was developing her as a subject, what a flood of happiness she would bring into my life! What did she mean when she said that she was going to see you tomorrow?"
"That is our secret. She is coming to our home. You will entrance her for me and then leave us alone, will you not?"