And tears, tears of shame at himself, of love for Urith, of infinite longing for that little child that was to be his, and to nestle in his arms, filled his throat and choked him. With a trembling finger on another clouded pane he drew an U and interlaced with it an A, twisting and turning the initials about, weaving them inextricably together, till the U was lost in the A, and the A confounded with the U.
He could not speak. He did not look round. With his eyes fixed before him, and his mind full of the thoughts that opened to him, he went out of the room, out of the house, and spoke to no one.
But old Anthony and Julian knew his decision—knew it from his finger-writing on the little diamond pane.
Yet the old man would not accept it—he called after his son.
"I give thee three days. I will do no more for three days in the matter."
But Anthony did not turn his head or answer.
CHAPTER XXXVIII. ON THE ROAD.
Fox Crymes walked on toward Hall with Bessie. He could not well leave her to take the rest of her course alone, after the old man, her father, had ridden past, forgetting her, and leaving her to make her way home without him. They therefore walked on together, speaking at intervals and disconnectedly to each other. Bessie feeling the irksomeness of her position, and he unwilling further to jeopardize his suit by pressing it on her any more. He had said what was sufficient and he left the father to use pressure to force her to comply with his wishes.
The two had not, however, proceeded more than a mile before they saw Squire Cleverdon riding back to meet them. He had recalled his promise before he reached home, and then remembered having passed two persons whom he did not particularly observe, but whom he concluded were his daughter and Fox.