It was some time before she found her voice to speak.
“It’s nothing, aunt; indeed it’s nothing, Archie. I had no thought of crying. But I think my tears have been gathering all the week, and the sight of you made them run over in spite of me.”
“Lily,” said Archie, gravely, “I won’t go to the school again. You have been wearying for me, Lily.”
It had been something more than “wearying,”—that dull pain that had ached at Lilias’ heart since they parted. It was like the mother’s unappeasable yearning for her lost darling. Her cheek seemed to have grown pale and thin even in these six days. Archie stood with one hand thrown over her neck, while with the other he pushed back the fair hair that had fallen on her face, and his eyes looked lovingly and gravely into hers. The tears still ran fast over her cheeks; but she forced back the sobs that were ready to burst out again; and in a little while she said, with lips that quivered while they smiled:
“Nonsense, Archie! You must go to the school. I haven’t wearied much: have I, aunt? Everything has been just the same this week, except that you didn’t come home.”
“A woeful exception,” said her aunt to herself; but aloud she said, “Yes; just the same. We have missed you sadly; but we couldn’t think of keeping you at home on that account. How do you like biding with the master?”
“Oh, I liked it well, after the first night or two. I have been twice at the manse, and Davie has been with me; and the master has more books than I could read in years and years; and I have had a letter from John Graham. It came with one to Davie.”
And soon Lilias was listening to his history of the week’s events with as much interest as he took in giving it. She strove by her cheerfulness to make Archie forget her reception of him. Indeed, it did not require a very great effort to be cheerful now. Her heart had been wonderfully lightened by the shedding of the tears that had been gathering all the week; and she soon laughed heartily over the merry stories he had to tell about his sworn friend Davie Graham and the master.
But Archie did not forget. That night, as they stood by the rowan-tree, looking down on the foaming waters beneath, he said:
“Lily, I don’t believe Davie Graham’s sisters love him as you love me.”