randmother so. Of course there were many reasons why
Theobald should not have written. He was very gay in India, much in
demand in his spare time for all sorts of entertainments.
"If there had been any serious reason for his not writing we should have
heard fast enough, Gran," I said.
"Why, that is true, Bawn," she replied. "Still, where one loves one is
unnecessarily anxious."
I felt the rebuke of her words, though I knew she had intended no
rebuke, and made up my mind with a rush of compunction to write a long
letter to Theobald in the morning.
Miss Champion was staying the night at Aghadoe; and I thought it would
be well to leave her and my grandmother together that they might talk
over things. Besides that, I had not yet read my letter and the moment
was approaching when I might do so. And all at once my patience seemed
to have given out, to be quite exhausted. So I took my bedroom candle
and went.
When I had reached my own room I locked the door lest by any chance I
should be disturbed; although that did not seem likely. I lit four
candles and made quite an illumination in the great, dim room. Then I
took the letter from where it had lain all day over my heart, and I set
it on the table in the candle-light. I got into a loose gown and
slippers with a kind of painful, yet sweet deliberation. Now that the
moment had come for my joy I dallied with it.
My first love-letter! I realized all at once that Theobald's fond,
boyish epistles had no real, man's love in them. I was only the dear
companion, the sister, to him. I was sure of it, else I had been very
unhappy.
Then I took the letter and held it to the candle-light with a throbbing
heart. And this is what I read:
"My dear Miss Bawn,
"For a moment I forgot my white head and my years, and for that
foolish presumption you must pardon me and never think less kindly
of me. From your old servant's lips I learned the truth: that you
had a lover of your own age, whom I pray God may be worthy of you.
After all, since my dream of treasure here was but a dream, I have
reconsidered my refusal, and shall join the expedition in search of
mere earthly treasure. If we never meet again, think kindly of him
who would die for you.
"Your faithful friend and servant,
"Anthony Cardew."
I was like one who has had a blow and a bad one, and I felt
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