With this thought in his mind he left the hotel and walked away in the direction of Savin Hill. It was three miles there.
He did not expect to see Carolyn at this time of night, but the walk would take up his mind, and he was stronger than he had been since his illness. By the time he returned to the hotel perhaps Prudence and Lord Maxwell would be back.
He had got over the ground rapidly. In a short time he had entered the side gate which opened into the vegetable garden.
The brilliant starlight made it possible for him to see his way with sufficient clearness; every yard of ground was familiar and dear to him. He passed on slowly along the dew-wet path until he came to a small space which was Carolyn's flower-garden; he knew she worked in this spot with her own hands, digging and weeding, and that she allowed here only her own especial favorites.
He stood a moment here. He could not distinguish the different plants, but the warm night air brought out heavily the perfume of heliotrope and mignonette. Carolyn used to be in the habit of wearing every day a little bunch of these flowers. But then that time was a thousand years ago.
Lawrence stepped carefully into the garden and peered about until he found and gathered a sprig of each of these flowers. Holding them in his hand, he went towards the house.
As he saw a light in the room that he knew was "Aunt Tishy's," he began to fear that some one might be out in the grounds this lovely evening, and come upon him. That would be a very awkward meeting for him. But if he could happen to see Carolyn—
He walked on slowly. The turreted house towered up blackly. He heard Mrs. Ffolliott's little terrier barking somewhere within the building. He leaned against a tree that stood on the edge of the lawn. He felt like an outcast. Where were all his dreams of usefulness and happiness? He had an idea that he had been considered what is called "a promising young man." And he had really meant to do something. He smiled forlornly and tried to rouse himself. He thought that his musing was like the musing of an old man. What an inconceivable act of folly he had committed!
He shook his shoulders impatiently. He turned, thinking to retrace his steps to his hotel. Perhaps Prudence had returned by this time.
Was it possible that Carolyn was going to marry Lord Maxwell? And was that one reason why Prudence was so excessively kind to the Englishman now? His mind went galloping from one subject to another.