“Now, I will hurry back to Mrs. Yorke,” interposed Violet. “And you need not make haste at all, Jessie; Captain Venners will entertain you, I am sure; so I’m off!” and before Jessie could attempt a word of protest, Violet flitted away up the path to the house, and Jessie and Will were alone together.
CHAPTER XXIII.
IN THE CORRIDOR.
Silence! The moonlight, glinting down through the magnolia boughs, showed two still figures standing there like statues. Jessie’s eyes were fixed upon the ground; her graceful figure trembled perceptibly; her two white hands were clasped tightly together. No sound to break the silence, only the distant ripple of the shining river gliding on in the moonlight. And then, all at once, just over their heads, a mocking-bird burst forth into a perfect shower of song. Clear, sweet, and silvery it rose and fell upon the silence like fairy music, faint and soft, in a tender minor key, then, soaring aloft, was lost in the heavens.
Will’s voice broke in upon the silence which followed as the bird flew swiftly away.
“Jessie”—his voice trembled audibly—“I am very glad—I can not say how glad!—to see you once more. I have come to say good-bye!”
“Good-bye?” The word fluttered from her lips in a broken whisper. “To—say—good-bye?”
Then, with a sudden return of the olden pride, she straightened her graceful form, and the big gray eyes met Will Venners’ gaze, clear and calm and straight-forward, without a shadow or a shrinking.
“Yes, I am come to bid you farewell. Let us sit down here, Jessie. It is a lovely night—a divine night!—and I suppose it will be a long time—a very long time, perhaps—before you and I will sit side by side again; perhaps never—that is for you to say.”