For
it was the last glimpse of Wenna Rosewarne that he was to have for
many a day, and a sadder picture was never treasured up in a man's
memory.
"Oh, Wenna, what have you said to him that you tremble so?" Mabyn
asked.
"I have bid him good-bye--that is all."
"Not for always?"
"Yes, for always."
"And he is going away again, then?"
"Yes, as a young man should. Why should he stop here to make himself
wretched over impossible fancies? He will go out into the world, and
he has splendid health and spirits, and he will forget all this."
"And you--you are anxious to forget it all too?"
"Would it not be better? What good can come of dreaming? Well, I have
plenty of work to do: that is well."
Mabyn was very much inclined to cry: all her beautiful visions of the
future happiness of her sister had been rudely dispelled--all her
schemes and machinations had gone for nothing. There only remained to
her, in the way of consolation, the fact that Wenna still wore the
sapphire ring that Harry Trelyon had sent her.
"And what will his mother think of you?" said Mabyn as a last
argument, "when she finds you have sent him away altogether--to go
into the army and go abroad, and perhaps die of yellow fever, or be
shot by the Sepoys or Caffres?"
"She would have hated me if I had married him," said Wenna simply.
Pages:
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296