A Pair of Blue Eyes

le is no ba

he night when Stephen came up to the front door of the vicarage. Elfride w

is time looking for that ea

I have not

-where have you been? I have been so uneasy. I feared for you, knowing not an inch of the country. I th

said rather abruptly; 'I have so muc

of ours, and is it that same shadowy secret you all

ssi

, and looked around

till to-morr

ntarily s

o-night. Where is y

ening retreat. I will leave you now. Say all that's to be said-do all there is to

hole twilighted space that the four walls enclosed and sheltered: they were not there. She mounted a little ladder, which had been used for gathering fruit, and looked over the wall into the field. This field extended to the limits of the glebe, which was enclosed on that side by a pri

ttached, had lately been purchased by a person named Troyton, whom Elfride had never seen. Her father might have struck up an acqua

no necessity for

ondering where Stephen could be. For want of something better to do, she went upstairs to her own little room. Here she sa

she remained, thinking of Stephen, and wishing he had not deprived her of his company to no purpose, as it appeared. How delicate and sensitive he was, she reflected; and yet he

ery long odds against such juxtaposition is not almost a disproof of it being a matter of chance at all. What occurred to Elfride at this moment was a case in point. She was vividly imagining, for the twent

and stealthy kind, but d

against the pale glow of the sky, unbroken except where a young cedar on the lawn, that had outgrown i

dusky forms. But the shrubs, which once had merely dotted the glade, had now grown bushy and large, till they hid at least

be concerned in the foregoing enactment. But the reservations he at present insisted on, while they added to the mystery without which perhaps she would never h

er father. Thence she wandered into all the nooks around the place from which the sound seemed to proceed-among the huge laurestines, about

is study door, and letting the light of his candles stream upon Elfride's face-less revealing than

'Surely no light was shining from the window when I was on the

y. 'What did you want Unity for? I thin

been to see-I didn'

trayed to another subject, unimportant as it seemed. The red ember of a match was lying inside the fender, wh

e vicar. 'I thought you were

ly left together; wonderfully careless, if he saw it and did not think about it; wonderfully good, if, as seemed to her by far the most probable supposition, he saw it and thought about it and approve

with a kiss on the lawn?' she ask

on the

said, imper

actly. I certainly have kissed nobody on the lawn,

ing about such

ever. What ma

f importance. And, Stephen, you have not

what you said about objections, refusals-bitter words possibly-ending our happiness, that I resolv

a delicate voice, which implied that her face had grown warm. 'I want him

first-to tell you now. It is two or three hours yet

de wicket, and ascended into the open expanse of moonlight whic

ing-place in the churchyard. Stephen chose a flat tomb, showing itself to be newer and

there,'

not h

ut never mind.'

in spite of everything tha

Yes, indeed,' she said, drawing closer, 'whatever may be said of you-and nothing ba

parents might be, or what so

s in your manners which are rather quaint-no more. I suppose y

at none of my family hav

What you are on

ent to school-I mean, t

s academy,' sh

l originally, then t

phen,' she murmured tenderly, 'I do indeed. And why should you t

closer and

ather is-does for his l

e profession or c

e is a

reem

ger and jour

g at first. After a

a to me. But never min

ry with me for not

ll. Is your m

es

a nice

people had been well-to-do yeomen for

from her in whis

esitation. 'And I remember very well how, when I was very young, I used to go to the milking, look on at

ver-not

, it

regard you in the light of-of-having been so rough in your youth, and done menial things of that kind.' (Stephen withdrew an inch or two from her side.) 'But I DO LOVE YOU just the same,'

iness; it is Knight

ays he-a

rtain the idea of helping me in classics till he left home. Then I was sent away from the village, and we very seldom met; but he kept up this system of tuition by correspondence with the

become a normal thing that millionaires commence by going up to London with their tools at their back, and half-a-crown in their pocket

I shouldn't mind. But I am only

. And so THIS is wh

t telling you my story; and yet I feared to do so, Elfie.

ciation papa noticed in your Latin, your odd mixture of book-knowledge with ignorance of ordinary social acco

did yo

ady. I was at the side door; you two were in a room wit

as my

thdrew herself to look at h

eeping it back-I must tell it now, after all. The remainder of my revelation refers to

she said in sus

Luxellian's master-mason, who live

hen! ca

Luxellian's park. My grandfather planted the trees that belt in your lawn; my grandmother-who worked in the fields with him-held each tree

al, and again this afternoon, a run to see your father and mother?...I u

ith my friend Knight. And when I was fifteen and had been fairly educated by the school-master-and more particularly by Knight-I was put as a pupil in an architect's office in that town, because I was skilful in the use of the pencil. A full premium was paid by the ef

n born here, and have known this village so many years before I

en, with a pained smile at the thought of the incongruity. 'And your

n to her. We have only been here eight

my descent from one of the most ancient west-county families, on account of my second Christian name; when the truth is, it was given me because my grandfather was assistant gardener in t

, 'I wouldn't have minded if they had lived far away. Papa might have consented to an engagement between us if your connection had b

eaviness. 'Give me up; let me go back

not strike me at first. Stephen, why do we trouble? Why should papa object? An architect in London is an ar

being only a cottager's son; he says I am as worthy of his friendship as if I were a

giving an answer, 'but I have not even formed a strong friendship,

he said wooingly. 'And had you re

ever recognized

obody ever

d once; very

long

long

ong, d

elvem

Y long' (rather

ong, not

e want to

e anything in him. He was not good

sk what

far

-how much better than my

ow?' he contin

ER

do you mea

that he

re h

s tomb. He is dead, and we

king at the tomb, 'how odd and sad that revelati

wish to sit here; b

r encoura

id solemnly. 'He died of consumption,

tanding by HIM, even if you nev

ing Stephen at the distance of a few steps. 'Perhaps I o