He started to his feet, and would have left me in anger, but I recalled
him with a word. It was good to feel my power over this man who had
slighted and rejected me. Before we parted that day he had quite
forgiven me for refusing him and making him ridiculous; I thought a
little of the spaniel was transferred to him. I saw, too, he had a
hope, which I carefully forbore to contradict, that I preferred him to
any other, and would accept him, could he but win a fortune for me. And
so I sent him out into the world again, full of vain, feverish desires
after the impossible. I gave him all the pains of love without its
consolations. It was good, as far as it went.

John and I, meanwhile, got on very peacefully together. He was not
demonstrative, nor did he exact demonstration from me. I had promised
to marry him, and he trusted implicitly to my faith; while his love was
so reverent, his ideal of maiden delicacy so exalted, that I should
have suffered in his esteem, I verily believe, had my regard been shown
other than by a quiet tenderness of manner.

About this time my uncle's family went abroad. They wished me to
accompany them, but I steadily declined. When they pressed me for a
reason, I told them of my engagement to John, and that I was unwilling
to leave him for so long a time. The excuse was natural enough, and
they believed me; and it was arranged that during the period of their
absence I should remain with a sister of Mrs. Heywood.

The time passed on. I saw William frequently. Often he spoke to me of
his love, and I scarcely checked him; I liked to feed him with false
hopes, as once he had done to me. He did not speak again of marriage; I
knew his pride forbade it. I also knew that he believed I loved him,
and would wait for him.