Relieved from this embarrassment, Sarah Drummond and her trembling companion passed through the gate, and proceeded up the long gravelled walk which led to the state-house. They had not gone far before Virginia Temple descried a dark form approaching them, and even before she could recognize the features, her heart told her it was Hansford. In another moment she was in his arms.
“My own Virginia, my loved one,” he cried, regardless of the presence of Mrs. Drummond, “I scarcely dared hope that you would have kept your promise to say farewell. Come, dearest, lean on my arm, I have much to tell you. You, my kind dame, remain here for a few moments—we will not detain you long.”
Quietly yielding to his request, Virginia took her lover's arm, and they walked silently along the path, leaving the good dame Drummond to digest alone her crude notions about the prospects of Israel.
“Is it not singular,” said Hansford at length, “that before you came, I thought the brief hour we must spend together was far too short to say half that I wish, and now I can say nothing. The quiet feeling of love, of pure and tranquil love, banishes every other thought from my heart.”
“I fear—I fear,” murmured Virginia, “that I have done very wrong in consenting to this interview.”
“And why, Virginia,” said her lover, “even the malefactor is permitted the poor privilege of bidding farewell forever to those around him—and am I worse than he?”
“No, Hansford, no,” replied Virginia, “but to come thus with a perfect stranger, at night, and without my father's permission, to an interview with one who has met with his disapprobation—”
“True love,” replied Hansford, sadly, “overleaps all such feeble barriers as these—where the happiness of the loved one is concerned.”
“And, therefore, I came,” returned the young girl, “but you forget, Hansford, that the relation which once existed between us has, by our mutual consent, been dissolved—what then was proper cannot now be permitted.”
“If such be the case,” replied Hansford, in an offended tone, “Miss Temple must be aware that I am the last person to urge her to continue in a course which her judgment disapproves. May I conduct you to your companion?”