She darted away, speeding swiftly down the walk, leaving the young man speechless and amazed at the discovery that he had made; for he had read in the girl’s beautiful face and speaking glance the confession of her love for him.
“Whew!” he ejaculated, recovering himself after a moment; “I never dreamed of anything like that! What in the world have I been thinking of not to realize before that she had grown a young lady, and a very beautiful one, too? I wonder if I could—can it be possible that I have—bah! I never have meant to do any mischief in that way. Perhaps I’ll—no. I’ll wait until I get back from my trip. It is very awkward. I wish it had not happened just now,” he soliloquized, brokenly.
He stood gazing out of the conservatory in an absent way for several minutes, his face very grave, an anxious look in his fine eyes; but, as he heard Lillian and the gardener approaching, he passed around to another path and so out of the hot-house, and thus avoided meeting them; he did not feel that he could encounter the young girl again just then. He wished to get away by himself and think over the revelation he had just received.
The thought of love in connection with Lillian Linton had never entered his mind until now.
She had simply been a genial playmate during the earlier years of his life, sharing many of his own and Percy’s sports, and a pleasant companion when, of late, he had returned to Heathdale from college to spend his vacations.
He had scarcely realized—as his own words betrayed—that she had reached woman’s estate. He knew she was very pretty, very bright and sparkling; he knew that Heathdale would not seem like home to him without her, and he enjoyed her society as he would that of a dear sister; but as for anything nearer, as a wife, he had never thought of her.
More and more he regretted that little episode in the conservatory. The memory of it embarrassed him, try hard as he would to overcome it, and he found himself avoiding the possibility of a tête-à-tête with Lillian again, while he began to grow anxious for the day of his departure, that he might escape the unnatural constraint that seemed to have fallen upon him.
Sir William wondered what had come over him during the next few days, but attributed his unusual gravity to his regret at the approaching separation.
Lady Linton knew from Lillian’s manner, that something had gone wrong; but, although she questioned her, she could learn nothing satisfactory, and she became more and more unreconciled over Rupert’s projected tour.
If she could only have succeeded in arranging an engagement between him and Lillian before he left, she would have felt quite safe in letting him go; he would have stood committed then, and it would have been a safeguard during his absence.