"
She laughed, but she made him see that she was in earnest. He walked by
her side, crestfallen, a grieving look on his good-humoured, pleasant
face. The hunting season was not here for several months. His head and his
heart had been filled of late with Deleah, his time had been passed in
riding down Bridge Street in the hope that she might be looking out of
window, in waylaying her when she came from school, in sitting in the room
over the shop with Bessie, to get rid of time till Deleah should appear.
"If I'm to give up seeing you, and trying to see you, what on earth am I
to do?" he asked.
"You are to travel."
"Why that is what Francis has been sticking into me!
"There you are, then. Two people who know what is good for you, Reggie."
"Francis is in a deuce of a hurry. He wants me to go next week."
"And why not?"
"I don't know why not--now," a miserable Reggie admitted.
"Then go at once and tell him you are ready."
For her word's sake to his brother she wrung a reluctant assent from him,
and left him. But an hour later Emily bringing in the tea announced that a
gentleman had called to see Miss Deleah.
"You can guess who 'tis," Emily said, as she spread the cloth. "He's in
his dog-cart at the door, and his horse that resty, he says he can't come
in; but he won't keep Miss Deleah a minute.
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