II
“Yet came it, to my gladness,
That, as vowed,
He did return.—But sadness
Swiftly cowed
The job with which my greeting was endowed.
“Some woe was there. Estrangement
Marked his mind.
Each welcome-warm arrangement
I had designed
Touched him no more than deeds of careless kind.
“‘I—failed!’ escaped him glumly.
‘—I went on
In my old part. But dumbly—
Memory gone—
Advancing, I sank sick; my vision drawn
“‘To something drear, distressing
As the knell
Of all hopes worth possessing!’ . . .
—What befell
Seemed linked with me, but how I could not tell.
“Hours passed; till I implored him,
As he knew
How faith and frankness toward him
Ruled me through,
To say what ill I had done, and could undo.
“‘Faith—frankness. Ah! Heaven save such!’
Murmured he,
‘They are wedded wealth! I gave such
Liberally,
But you, Dear, not. For you suspected me.’
“I was about beseeching
In hurt haste
More meaning, when he, reaching
To my waist,
Led me to pace the hall as once we paced.
“‘I never meant to draw you
To own all,’
Declared he. ‘But—I saw you—
By the wall,
Half-hid. And that was why I failed withal!’
“‘Where? when?’ said I—‘Why, nigh me,
At the play
That night. That you should spy me,
Doubt my fay,
And follow, furtive, took my heart away!’