To-night, what change had come over him? He seemed living again in the happiness of the bygone time. He felt young as he had not felt in twenty years. He could dwell on the old joys and feel no sting; recall the image of his lost without a pang--so young and tender, with her soft brown eyes and clinging touch lingering still so kindly on his retentive sense. There was no feeling of loss to-night, no raging pang of impotent hungry jealousy.
He seemed dwelling in the fragrance of her presence; and the image of his new friend, his deliverer, was with him too, so like and yet so different from the other. The sunny warmth in those full brown eyes had beamed on him with a reviving and invigorating glow, which had thawed and quickened his poor frost-bound nature like the coming of another spring. How different the two images were! And yet, when he strove to separate and compare them in his mind, how strangely they ran together, and blended like fluid shapes into something vaguely sweet and dear, which would not be resolved into either definite form!
A hand was laid lightly on his shoulder, and he turned his head, preoccupied still with the images of his waking dream.
"I have found you at last, and at leisure," said a voice at his elbow. "You have been so busy all the evening, and I could not turn in till I had had a word with you."
"Walter! You? What is it?"
"What is this about going to Boston to-morrow? Margaret is as much taken by surprise as I am."
"Going to Boston? I know nothing of it. What do you mean?"
"Mrs Naylor told Margaret in my hearing they were going to Boston to-morrow."
"We came here intending to remain a month at least. Our rooms are only taken for a fortnight, to be sure, in case we should not like it; but if we do--and I thought we were getting on nicely--we were to stay. At least that was my idea. But--ah! I see--Walter, you scamp! This comes of your unexpected appearance. You should be ashamed of yourself--disturbing a quiet family in this fashion. What a dangerous character you must be, when the sight of you frightens a middle-aged lady so much that she is going to pack up and run away, before--before----Bless my soul! how many days have we been here? It seems a long time, but it is not a week, not four---- We have been here only two days!
"Yes; now I think of it, my sister has been hovering round me a good deal this evening. I daresay she has been trying to get speech of me. And I was conceited enough to think it was unwarrantable curiosity on the part of Mrs Caleb, watching what I was about."