They believed that I was happier than I had been for some time previously, and I know now that they attributed my happiness to the fact of the date being at length fixed for my wedding to take place. They had seen just enough to perceive that some disturbing influence was at work with me; and the sudden change in my bearing seemed to them to imply that my doubts and fears were now set at rest. It did me real good to witness the unfeigned relief in Lilian's face; the unselfishness which could rejoice in my happiness though her own might be wrecked. I know now how much she had suffered from shame and dread—how terribly afraid she had been lest I should divine any part of the truth; lamenting over what she considered to be her disloyalty to me, and blaming herself as she certainly did not deserve to be blamed.
'Dear Mary, it seems quite like old times again; does it not?' she said, looking up into my face with the nearest approach to happiness in her own which I had seen there for some time, as I bent over her with a playful criticism upon a bit of foliage she was doing.
'It has been a pleasant day, has it not, dearie?' I returned. 'All the pleasanter for French history being kept out of the programme, I think. You know I never did take kindly to that.'
She flushed up, nestling closer to my side. 'There shall be no more of it, Mary,' she whispered.
I replied with a tender kiss; then lightly said: 'I really feel quite kissably inclined this afternoon!' turning to my dear old friend, and giving her two or three hearty good-bye kisses, then back again to Lilian with a last hug.
'And now, I must run off again;' adding as I reached the door: 'Do not wait tea for me. I shall not be able to get back by then.'
'To town! Mary?' asked Lilian. 'And I am not to be permitted to accompany you again. I feel sure there must be something very mysterious going on!'
But she was smiling, and I believe that both she and her aunt were now quite at ease about it, having made up their minds that their first surmise—that I was preparing some pretty surprise for them—was a correct one.
I ran up to my room, hastily indicated to Becky where she was to find the two letters in a couple of hours' time, put on my bonnet and cloak, gave a quiet embrace and warning look to the faithful girl, sobbing under her breath, then went down-stairs again. I dared not venture to go into the little parlour for a last word, lest some tender speech of Lilian's should cause me to break down; so little would do it just now, when every nerve was stretched to its utmost tension.