"So Trevor seems to think," said another, for their friend had lingered behind, and now stood apparently half irresolute, looking in the direction where the young lady had disappeared.
"Come on, don't let us be in his way," and then laughing, they pursued their walk.
Trevor seemed not disinclined to profit by their consideration—he hesitated no longer, but disappeared at once within the shaded path.
Need we say, whose footsteps he followed—or whose the startled countenance, which turned towards him, when having reached the spot where the object of his pursuit had arrived, he in a low tone pronounced the name of "Mary," or how in an opposite direction to that taken by the nurse and children, they were soon walking on slowly, side by side, together.
"But Eugene, is not this wrong?" Mary said, after the first tearful joy of this most unexpected meeting had a little subsided, and her heart rather sunk, to find by her lover's hasty explanation, that no new turn of events, touching favourably on their mutual happiness, had brought him to her side. "Is not this wrong after the agreement we had made?"
"What Mary!" with tender reproach, "are you so little glad to see me as thus to speak? However, as you are so much more scrupulous than affectionate, I am not afraid to tell you that I had not counted upon this pleasure, though I did not think myself bound quite to avoid the place which contained you; but when, by mere accident, I saw you a few yards distant, I think not the most punctilious of your friends, would expect it to be in the nature of man, to look after you and turn coolly the other way."
Mary smiled upon him, as if she needed no other excuse.
"How well you look, Mary!" Eugene continued, gazing on the countenance of his companion, lit up, as it was, by the glow of animated pleasure, "happier, better, than when I saw you last—too well, I am almost tempted to think, and too happy, considering the circumstances of our case. I—you must allow, look far less so."
Mary gazed with tender anxiety into her lover's face. Was she then really to suppose that the change she remarked upon his handsome countenance, since the happy Silverton days, was caused by his love for her?
The haggard cheek—the restless, unhealthful fire which burnt in those dark eyes! A thrill of womanly pleasure was mixed with the tender pain the idea inspired.