And now, the last Sunday was come, and the last service. I was often on the point of melting into tears during the sermon--the last I was to hear from him: the best I should hear from anyone, I was well assured. It was over--the congregation were departing; and I must follow. I had then seen him, and heard his voice, too, probably for the last time. In the churchyard, Matilda was pounced upon by the two Misses Green. They had many inquiries to make about her sister, and I know not what besides. I only wished they would have done, that we might hasten back to Horton Lodge: I longed to seek the retirement of my own room, or some sequestered nook in the grounds, that I might deliver myself up to my feelings- -to weep my last farewell, and lament my false hopes and vain delusions. Only this once, and then adieu to fruitless dreaming-- thenceforth, only sober, solid, sad reality should occupy my mind. But while I thus resolved, a low voice close beside me said--'I suppose you are going this week, Miss Grey?' 'Yes,' I replied. I was very much startled; and had I been at all hysterically inclined, I certainly should have committed myself in some way then. Thank God, I was not.
'Well,' said Mr. Weston, 'I want to bid you good-bye--it is not likely I shall see you again before you go.'
'Good-bye, Mr. Weston,' I said. Oh, how I struggled to say it calmly! I gave him my hand. He retained it a few seconds in his.
'It is possible we may meet again,' said he; 'will it be of any consequence to you whether we do or not?'
'Yes, I should be very glad to see you again.'
I COULD say no less. He kindly pressed my hand, and went. Now, I was happy again--though more inclined to burst into tears than ever. If I had been forced to speak at that moment, a succession of sobs would have inevitably ensued; and as it was, I could not keep the water out of my eyes. I walked along with Miss Murray, turning aside my face, and neglecting to notice several successive remarks, till she bawled out that I was either deaf or stupid; and then (having recovered my self-possession), as one awakened from a fit of abstraction, I suddenly looked up and asked what she had been saying.