“I will not tell him that I know—but I had guessed it—I heard him praying once while we were away, and I knew that he was giving up you.”
Tessa kissed her again, and without a word hurried away, walking with slower steps as she went on with her full eyes bent upon the ground.
Was it so much to give up Tessa Wadsworth? What was she that she could make such a difference in a man’s life? Was she lovable, after all, despite her quick words and sharp speeches? She was not pretty like Dinah, or “taking” like Sue; it was very pleasant to be loved for her own sake; “my own unattractive self,” she said. It would be very pleasant in that far-off time, when she reviewed her life, to remember that some one had loved her beside her father and Dine and Miss Jewett! And a good man, too; a man with brains, and a pure heart!
Her ideal was a man with brains, and a pure heart; then why had she not loved Felix Harrison?
“Oh, I don’t know,” she sighed. “I can’t understand.” Slowly, slowly, with her full eyes on the ground she went on, not heeding the sound of wheels, or gay voices, as a carriage passed her now and then; but as she went on, with her eyes still full for Felix, a light sound of wheels set her heart to beating, and she lifted her eyes to bow to Dr. Towne.
In that instant her heart bowed before the Awful Will in acceptance of the love that had been given to her, even as other things in her lot had been given her, without any seeking or asking.
“I can bear it,” she felt, filling the words with Paul’s thought, when he wrote, “I can do all things.”
Dr. Towne drew the reins: she stood still on the edge of the foot-path.
“My mother misses you, Miss Tessa.”
“Does she? I am sorry, but I have to be so busy at home.”