There was no time to be lost. He was bound to a hot climate, and must
take all advantage possible of the winter months. He was to go first
to Paris, to have interviews with some of the scientific men there.
Some of his outfit, instruments, &c., were to follow him to Havre,
from which port he was to embark, after transacting his business in
Paris. The Squire learnt all his arrangements and plans, and even
tried in after-dinner conversations to penetrate into the questions
involved in the researches his son was about to make. But Roger's
visit home could not be prolonged beyond two days.
The last day he rode into Hollingford earlier than he needed to have
done to catch the London coach, in order to bid the Gibsons good-by.
He had been too actively busy for some time to have leisure to bestow
much thought on Cynthia; but there was no need for fresh meditation
on that subject. Her image as a prize to be worked for, to be served
for seven years, and seven years more, was safe and sacred in his
heart. It was very bad, this going away, and wishing her good-by
for two long years; and he wondered much during his ride how far he
should be justified in telling her mother, perhaps in telling her own
sweet self, what his feelings were without expecting, nay, indeed
reprobating, any answer on her part. Then she would know at any
rate how dearly she was beloved by one who was absent; how in all
difficulties or dangers the thought of her would be a polar star,
high up in the heavens, and so on, and so on; for with all a lover's
quickness of imagination and triteness of fancy, he called her
a star, a flower, a nymph, a witch, an angel, or a mermaid, a
nightingale, a siren, as one or another of her attributes rose up
before him.