A feeling of dismay took possession of her, for she knew that the world would criticise her severely for taking such a step.
She had not dreamed that she would have to ride in the same carriage with Wallace, and she wondered if he would understand how it had happened.
The matter could not be helped now, however, and for herself she did not care; her motives had been good and pure; why then need she care for the criticisms of people?
The ride to Spring Grove Cemetery was a long and sad one, for scarcely a word was spoken either going or returning. Wallace seemed absorbed in his own sorrowful reflections, Mrs. Keen preserved a prim and gloomy silence, and Violet was thus left to her own thoughts.
She could not keep from thinking of those few sad yet sweet moments when she had stood alone with Wallace by the casket of his mother, and heard him speak those words which had changed, in one instant, her whole life.
"My darling, your presence is inexpressibly comforting to me!"
She knew that he had not meant to speak thus, that only a sense of his own desolation and her unexpected sympathy, had made him forget himself, break down all barriers, and betray the secret of his love.
It had been an unexpected revelation to her, however; she had not suspected the nature of his feelings toward her, nor of hers toward him, until then; but now she knew that she loved him—that all the world, with every other blessing and luxury at her command, would be worthless to her without him to share it.
When they reached Hughes street again Violet held out her hand to Wallace, saying it was so late she must go directly home.
Then he suddenly came to himself and realized how very tedious the long, silent ride must have been for her.