WYLDER'8 HAJVD.
819
"I am so sorry — I am so disappointed," said Lord
Chelford, looking gravely and enquiringly at her. He
began, I think, to fancy some estrangement there. "But
perhaps to-morrow — perhaps even to-day — you may
relent, you know. Don't say it is impossible."
Rachel smiled on the ground, as before; and then,
with a little sigh and a shako of her head, said —
"No."
"Well, I must tell Dorcas she was right — you are
very inexorable and cruel."
"I am very cruel to keep you here so long — and I,
too, am forgetting the Vicar, who will be here immediate-
ly, and I must meet him in a costume less like the Wo-
man of Endor."
Lord Chelford, leaning on the little wicket, put his
arm over, and she gave him her hand again.
"Good-bye," said Rachel.
"Well, I suppose I, too, must say good-bye; and I'll
say a great deal more," said he, in a peculiar, odd tone,
that was very firm, and yet indescribably tender. And
he held her slender hand, from which she had drawn the
gauntlet, in his. "Yes, Rachel, I will— I'll say every-
thing. We are old friends now—you'll forgive me
calling you Rachel — it may be perhaps the last time."
Rachel was standing there with such a beautiful blush,
and downcast eyes, and her hand in his.
"I liked you always, Rachel, from the first moment I
saw you — I like you better and better; and I've grown
to like you so, that if I lose you, I think I shall never be
the same again."
There was a very little pause, the blush was deeper,
her eyes lower still.
"I admire you, Rachel — I like your character — I
have grown to love you with all my heart and mind —