The Woodlanders - Page 162/314

He gazed at her in undisguised admiration. Here was a soul of souls!

"Mrs. Charmond, you speak truly," he exclaimed. "But you speak sadly

as well. Why is that?"

"I always am sad when I come here," she said, dropping to a low tone

with a sense of having been too demonstrative.

"Then may I inquire why you came?"

"A man brought me. Women are always carried about like corks upon the

waves of masculine desires....I hope I have not alarmed you; but

Hintock has the curious effect of bottling up the emotions till one can

no longer hold them; I am often obliged to fly away and discharge my

sentiments somewhere, or I should die outright."

"There is very good society in the county for those who have the

privilege of entering it."

"Perhaps so. But the misery of remote country life is that your

neighbors have no toleration for difference of opinion and habit. My

neighbors think I am an atheist, except those who think I am a Roman

Catholic; and when I speak disrespectfully of the weather or the crops

they think I am a blasphemer."

She broke into a low musical laugh at the idea.

"You don't wish me to stay any longer?" he inquired, when he found that

she remained musing.

"No--I think not."

"Then tell me that I am to be gone."

"Why? Cannot you go without?"

"I may consult my own feelings only, if left to myself."

"Well, if you do, what then? Do you suppose you'll be in my way?"

"I feared it might be so."

"Then fear no more. But good-night. Come to-morrow and see if I am

going on right. This renewal of acquaintance touches me. I have

already a friendship for you."

"If it depends upon myself it shall last forever."

"My best hopes that it may. Good-by."

Fitzpiers went down the stairs absolutely unable to decide whether she

had sent for him in the natural alarm which might have followed her

mishap, or with the single view of making herself known to him as she

had done, for which the capsize had afforded excellent opportunity.

Outside the house he mused over the spot under the light of the stars.

It seemed very strange that he should have come there more than once

when its inhabitant was absent, and observed the house with a nameless

interest; that he should have assumed off-hand before he knew Grace

that it was here she lived; that, in short, at sundry times and seasons

the individuality of Hintock House should have forced itself upon him

as appertaining to some existence with which he was concerned.