‘I can stop no longer,’ said my uncle, pulling out a great watch.
My aunt looked ‘hung in the wind,’ to use the phrase of the sailor, as though she understood she ought not to leave me alone with Captain Butler; but she correctly guessed that I did not want her; indeed, her remaining would have made me angry, and no doubt my fear of her intentions showed in my face.
‘Well,’ said she, ‘I could not leave you in better hands. Captain Butler will carefully look after you, I am sure.’ And she went quickly after her husband, who would wait for her no longer.
Captain Butler rang the bell and ordered some dinner. I was to be his guest, he said.
‘But why, Miss Johnstone, do you wish to go all the way to Hyde Park?’
‘It is no wish. I’ll go wherever you please.’
‘We are close to Greenwich here. Shall we take a turn about Greenwich Park presently? The days are still short, and you are not so far from your house at Greenwich as you would be at Kensington.’
I consented, and then we stood at the window, looking at the scene of the river from the docks, talking about Will and the sea-life and such matters until dinner was ready. I longed to hear him say that he loved me. The language of his eye was not satisfying enough. I wanted him to take my hand and ask me to be his wife. I had thought my appetite good until I sat down, and then I could not eat. My heart beat fast. I felt my colour come and go. I was alone with the man that I loved. I seemed to have lost my self-control, and behaved like a shy school-girl, and there were moments when I could have wished my aunt had not left us.
The waiter was slow, and it was nearly three o’clock before we rose. Captain Butler went to the window, looked out, and said to me: ‘I am afraid this fine day is not going to last. There’s a thickness gathering upon the river, and the sun looks like the rising moon. The afternoons are still short. Shall we hold Greenwich Park over for another day?’
‘If you like.’