I shall be better alone for a little while."
I went out. If, as soon as I got into the passage, I could have
transported Mr. Fairlie and Sir Percival Glyde to the uttermost
ends of the earth by lifting one of my fingers, that finger would
have been raised without an instant's hesitation. For once my
unhappy temper now stood my friend. I should have broken down
altogether and burst into a violent fit of crying, if my tears had
not been all burnt up in the heat of my anger. As it was, I
dashed into Mr. Fairlie's room--called to him as harshly as
possible, "Laura consents to the twenty-second"--and dashed out
again without waiting for a word of answer. I banged the door
after me, and I hope I shattered Mr. Fairlie's nervous system for
the rest of the day.
28th.--This morning I read poor Hartright's farewell letter over
again, a doubt having crossed my mind since yesterday, whether I
am acting wisely in concealing the fact of his departure from
Laura.
On reflection, I still think I am right. The allusions in his
letter to the preparations made for the expedition to Central
America, all show that the leaders of it know it to be dangerous.
If the discovery of this makes me uneasy, what would it make HER?
It is bad enough to feel that his departure has deprived us of the
friend of all others to whose devotion we could trust in the hour
of need, if ever that hour comes and finds us helpless; but it is
far worse to know that he has gone from us to face the perils of a
bad climate, a wild country, and a disturbed population.
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