“It would not be kind to leave you—and—I should miss you so,” she murmured, speaking quite truthfully, for she had a gentle affection for him still, in spite of the truant heart that fluttered so at the very thought of Norman Wylde.
“But if I can get away from Richmond I shall not think so often of him, and I can be truer in heart to my husband,” she thought, for she had heard the Wyldes say that Norman would not consent to accompany them.
Colonel Falconer was pleased at the knowledge that she would miss him, but he declared that he was afraid she would be sick if she remained any longer in the city.
“And as I cannot get away yet, you must not wait for me any longer. You can write to me every day, and that will be some consolation for your absence,” he said.
Juliette was delighted when she heard that they were not to wait for her uncle. She hurried around to the Wyldes the next morning to persuade them to go, too, and was successful in her mission.
“Only Norman says he can’t get away from his business this summer,” said Rosalind.
“And he won’t go?” Juliette asked, bitterly disappointed.
“No.”
“Oh, very well. There will be plenty of other beaus!” Juliette said, tossing her head and pretending to be indifferent. “Well, it is settled that we meet at the depot this evening, Mrs. Wylde?”
“Yes,” replied the lady; and Juliette hurried home to make her arrangements, and to vent her spleen on Norman Wylde by saying to Pansy: