Still Miss Monro was not discouraged; she remembered
the warm, passionate feeling she had once seen break through the calm
exterior, and she believed that what had happened once might occur again.
Of course, while all eyes were directed on the new canon, he had to learn
who the possessors of those eyes were one by one; and it was probably
some time before the idea came into his mind that Miss Wilkins, the lady
in black, with the sad pale face, so constant an attendant at service, so
regular a visitor at the school, was the same Miss Wilkins as the bright
vision of his youth. It was her sweet smile at a painstaking child that
betrayed her--if, indeed, betrayal it might be called where there was no
wish or effort to conceal anything. Canon Livingstone left the
schoolroom almost directly, and, after being for an hour or so in his
house, went out to call on Mrs. Randall, the person who knew more of her
neighbours' affairs than any one in East Chester.
The next day he called on Miss Wilkins herself. She would have been very
glad if he had kept on in his ignorance; it was so keenly painful to be
in the company of one the sight of whom, even at a distance, had brought
her such a keen remembrance of past misery; and when told of his call, as
she was sitting at her sewing in the dining-room, she had to nerve
herself for the interview before going upstairs into the drawing-room,
where he was being entertained by Miss Monro with warm demonstrations of
welcome.
Pages:
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196