Her pale face and troubled eyes revealed too plainly, on the next

morning, the conflict through which she had passed.

"Write him a letter of apology or explanation," said Mr. Delancy.

But Irene was not in a state of mind for this. Pride came whispering

too many humiliating objections in her ear. Morning passed, and in

the early hours of the afternoon, when the New York boat usually

came up the river, she was out on the portico watching for its

appearance. Hope whispered that, repenting of his hasty return on

the day before, her lover was now hurrying back to meet her. At last

the white hull of the boat came gliding into view, and in less than

half an hour it was at the landing. Then it moved on its course

again. Almost to a second of time had Irene learned to calculate the

minutes it required for Hartley to make the distance between the

landing and the nearest point in the road where his form could meet

her view. She held her breath in eager expectation as that moment of

time approached. It came--it passed; the white spot in the road,

where his dark form first revealed itself, was touched by no

obscuring shadow. For more than ten minutes Irene sat motionless,

gazing still toward that point; then, sighing deeply, she arose and

went up to her room, from which she did not come down until summoned

to join her father at tea.

The next day passed as this had done, and so did the next. Hartley

neither came nor sent a message of any kind. The maiden's heart

began to fail. Grief and fear took the place of accusation and

self-reproach. What if he had left her for ever! The thought made

her heart shiver as if an icy wind had passed over it. Two or three

times she took up her pen to write him a few words and entreat him

to come back to her again. But she could form no sentences against

which pride did not come with strong objection; and so she suffered

on, and made no sign.

A whole week at last intervened. Then the enduring heart began to

grow stronger to bear, and, in self-protection, to put on sterner

moods. Hers was not a spirit to yield weakly in any struggle. She

was formed for endurance, pride and self-reliance giving her

strength above common natures. But this did not really lessen her

suffering, for she was not only capable of deep affection, but

really loved Hartley almost as her own life; and the thought of

losing him, whenever it grew distinct, filled her with terrible

anguish.

With pain her father saw the color leave her cheeks, her eyes grow

fixed and dreamy, and her lips shrink from their full outline.

"Write to Hartley," he said to her one day, after a week had passed.




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