I did not tell him I had wasted my time in it, picking ferns, eating blackberries, thinking, and finally losing my way. "What's this?" said Mr. Chandos.
He alluded to the handful of ferns I carried, and without ceremony took one of the best sprays and put it in his coat "as a keepsake."
"If you are to leave, Anne, I must have something to remind me of you—you know!"
There was a light sound in his voice, which seemed to say he treated the notion of my leaving as a jest; as if he knew I should not go.
"I shall leave, Mr. Chandos!"
"Not just yet, at any rate. Madame de Mellissie left you with us, and to her only can we resign you!"
"I have written to Madame de Mellissie also, telling her I now take my plans upon myself."
"Oh, been posting that letter also, I suppose! Go you must not, Anne; I cannot part with you."
Every right feeling within me rose in rebellion against the avowal, and I strove to withdraw my arm, but my strength was as nothing in his firm grasp.
"I cannot part with you, I say; it would be like parting with life. These last few days—when we have been living in estrangement—have sufficed to show me what it would be were you to be away entirely. And so——"