'You must please to remember that our skies are not always as
deep a blue as they are now. We have rain, and our leaves do
fall, and get sodden: though I think Helstone is about as perfect
a place as any in the world. Recollect how you rather scorned my
description of it one evening in Harley Street: "a village in a
tale."' 'Scorned, Margaret That is rather a hard word.' 'Perhaps it is. Only I know I should have liked to have talked to
you of what I was very full at the time, and you--what must I
call it, then?--spoke disrespectfully of Helstone as a mere
village in a tale.' 'I will never do so again,' said he, warmly. They turned the
corner of the walk.
'I could almost wish, Margaret----' he stopped and hesitated. It
was so unusual for the fluent lawyer to hesitate that Margaret
looked up at him, in a little state of questioning wonder; but in
an instant--from what about him she could not tell--she wished
herself back with her mother--her father--anywhere away from him,
for she was sure he was going to say something to which she
should not know what to reply. In another moment the strong pride
that was in her came to conquer her sudden agitation, which she
hoped he had not perceived. Of course she could answer, and
answer the right thing; and it was poor and despicable of her to
shrink from hearing any speech, as if she had not power to put an
end to it with her high maidenly dignity.
'Margaret,' said he, taking her by surprise, and getting sudden
possession of her hand, so that she was forced to stand still and
listen, despising herself for the fluttering at her heart all the
time; 'Margaret, I wish you did not like Helstone so much--did
not seem so perfectly calm and happy here. I have been hoping for
these three months past to find you regretting London--and London
friends, a little--enough to make you listen more kindly' (for
she was quietly, but firmly, striving to extricate her hand from
his grasp) 'to one who has not much to offer, it is true--nothing
but prospects in the future--but who does love you, Margaret,
almost in spite of himself. Margaret, have I startled you too
much? Speak!' For he saw her lips quivering almost as if she were
going to cry. She made a strong effort to be calm; she would not
speak till she had succeeded in mastering her voice, and then she
said: 'I was startled. I did not know that you cared for me in that
way. I have always thought of you as a friend; and, please, I
would rather go on thinking of you so. I don't like to be spoken
to as you have been doing. I cannot answer you as you want me to
do, and yet I should feel so sorry if I vexed you.' 'Margaret,' said he, looking into her eyes, which met his with
their open, straight look, expressive of the utmost good faith
and reluctance to give pain.