"Oh, there they are," exclaimed Mary, slackening her speed; "we need not walk so fast now if we keep them in sight: I am so sorry you had to return for the book, Mr. Halford. I am afraid——"
"Don't, pray don't apologise, Miss Armstrong," was the reply that interrupted her in agitated tones. "I should only be too happy to attend to your every wish for my whole life, if I dared to encourage a hope that such a result was possible."
Was it true? Had she heard aright? What could he mean? What could she say in reply? Nothing. They walked on slowly in silence. How sweetly it accorded with her feelings at the moment! Those few words had shown her, as by a flash of lightning, the state of her own heart. Did it not re-echo the sentiments just uttered by her companion? Was it not happiness to be near him, hanging upon his arm, and conscious from his words of his thoughts respecting her? so talented, so clever, and so good, or he would not wish to be a clergyman.
During this visit to Oxford she had been conscious of a pleasure in his society, and a satisfaction in observing how readily he won the approbation of her friends; but now she could see more clearly the cause of these feelings, and in the first moment of gladness she had no dread of the future. Perfectly innocent of the world, she did not, as many would have done, laugh off the agitated words as a mere compliment. She had formed too high an estimate of the truthful character of Henry Halford to doubt him for one moment.
But Henry Halford already trembled at what he had done in a moment of impulse. Silently he led his companion to her friends, who had stopped at the entrance of the cloisters to wait for them. Together they crossed the quadrangle, Henry now and then joining in the conversation, and at last, to Mary's great delight, passed out at the gate as Old Tom sounded the first of his hundred and one strokes at nine o'clock.
No other words passed between these two till just before they reached the hotel, where the rest of the party were waiting to wish them good night.
"I will not intrude upon your family circle this evening, Miss Armstrong," said Henry Halford, "but I will call in to-morrow to say good-by;" and he added quickly, "If I have offended you by what I said just now, please forgive me and forget it."
"I am not offended, Mr. Halford," was the almost whispered reply, which caused the young man to press the little hand resting on his arm, and then turn quickly away to bid farewell, with stifled feelings, to those who stood waiting for him at the door of the hotel.
Mary escaped to her room, and closing the door, turned the key in the lock. To be troubled with Annette's French chatter at such a moment was more than she could bear even to contemplate.
Taking off her hat and gloves, she threw herself into the easy-chair and began to reflect. Had she compromised her womanly dignity by allowing Henry Halford to suppose she believed what might have been a compliment? No—impossible; he was too honourable and truthful, and too agitated while he spoke, to allow of such a fear. Besides, had he not, during the last few days, given her evident proofs of his preference and notice, made more apparent by the unmistakable efforts he made to conceal them? More than this, was not her own admiration of his talents and character leading to a feeling which made her listen for his footstep, and feel happy in his society? And as the young girl thought thus her cheek flushed even in her loneliness.