Conversation seemed an
effort, and after some vain attempts to shake off her depression she
hastily retired. After a long search Grey found her walking in one of
the alleys of the garden, and could perceive by her tones that she had
been weeping.
"In a very few days you will laugh at these pet superstitions. Do not
indulge this mood: come and walk," he said persuasively.
"You are cruel."
"Indeed it is for your good."
"Maurice, do you think we are justified in thus tempting Fate?"
He smiled at her as if she were a child: "I have no doubts."
Her eyes shone solemnly as she replied, "Then lead me, even to death."
"To life--to a happy life, dear Fay." He put her unresisting hand on
his arm and led her to the door of her room: "Sleep, my darling, and
to-morrow you will feel more tranquil."
The next day the young man congratulated himself: Fay was as bright as
if evil could never touch her. On passing him at the breakfast-table
she whispered, "I defy Fate."
But the struggle was not yet over: the old fear and the new love
fought a hard battle. A fortnight of these alternate lights and
shadows passed.
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