Each letter of Dine’s teemed with praises of John Woodstock; she thought that he was like Adam Bede, or Ninian in “Head of the Family,” or perhaps Max in “A Life for a Life”; she was lonely all day long without him, and as happy as she could be on earth with him all the long evenings.
Tessa frowned over the letters; Dine made no allusion to him in letters written to her father and mother; her whole loving, girlish heart she poured out to Tessa. And Tessa cried over them and prayed over them.
Sue returned from her bridal tour undeniably miserable; even the radiant mood of Dr. Lake was much subdued. Tessa met them together at Mrs. Towne’s one evening, two days after the coming home, and was cut to the heart by their manner towards each other: she was defiant; he, imploring.
“I’m sorry I’m married any way,” she exclaimed.
“Don’t say that,” he remonstrated, his face flushing painfully.
“I will say it—I do say it! I am sorry!”
“You know that you don’t mean it.”
“Yes, I do mean it, too.”
Dr. Towne glanced at Tessa and gave an embarrassed laugh. Mrs. Towne’s expression became severe; Tessa could have shaken Sue. Nan Gerard turned on the music stool with her most perfect laugh; Tessa could have shaken her for the enlightenment that ran through it.
“We will have no more music after that,” said Professor Towne.