"So it was. But—there! don't be an hour."
As William walked rapidly back, he met Mrs. Ashley's carriage. She and Mary were in it. Mrs. Ashley nodded as he raised his hat, and Mary glanced at him with a smile and a heightened colour. She had grown up to excessive beauty.
A few moments, and William met beauty of another style—Anna Lynn. Her cheeks were the flushed, dimpled cheeks of her childhood; the same sky-blue eyes gleaming from between their long dark lashes; the same profusion of silky, brown hair; the same gentle, sweetly modest manners. William stopped to shake hands with her.
"Out alone, Anna?"
"I am on my way to take tea with Mary Ashley."
"Are you? We shall meet there, then."
"That will be pleasant. Fare thee well for the present, William."
She continued her way. William ran in home, and to his chamber. Dressing himself hastily, he went to the room where his mother sat, and stood before her.
"Does my coat fit me, mother?"
"Why, where are you going?" she asked.