k at once, but took a most devious course. She was
determined to avoid the length of the High Street, and she was
determined also to avoid Brewery Lane; but she was equally determined
to pass through the churchyard. So she walked down from the railway
station to the hamlet at the bottom of the hill below the church,
and from thence went up by the field-path to the stile. In order to
accomplish this she went fully two miles out of her way, and now the
sun over her head was very hot. But what was the distance or the heat
of the sun to her when her object was to stand for a few moments in
that place? Her visit, however, to the spot which was so constantly
in her thoughts did her no good. Why had she been so injured? Why had
this sacrifice of herself been demanded from her? As she sat for a
moment on the stile this was the matter that filled her breast. She
had been exalted to the heavens when she first heard her mother speak
of Mr. Rowan as an acceptable suitor. She had been filled with joy as
though Paradise had been opened to her, when she found herself to be
the promised bride of Luke Rowan. Then had come her lover's letter,
and the clergyman's counsel, and her own reply; and after that the
gates of her Paradise had been closed against her! "I wonder whether
it's the same thing to him," she said to herself. "But I suppose not.
I don't think it can be the same thing or he would come. Wouldn't
I go to him if I were free as he is!" She barely rested in the
churchyard, and then walked on between the elms at a quick pace, with
a heart sore,--sore almost to breaking. She would never have been
brought to this condition had not her mother told her that she might
love him! Thence came her vexation of spirit. There was the cruelty.
All the world knew that this man had been her lover;--all her world
knew it. Cherry Tappitt had sung her little witless song about it.
Mrs. Tappitt had called at the cottage about it. Mr. Comfort had
given his advice about it. Mrs. Cornbury had whispered to her about
it out of her pony carriage. Mrs. Sturt had counselled her about it.
Mr. Prong had thought it very wrong on her part to love the man. Mr.
Sturt had thought it very right, and had offered his assistance. All
this would have been as nothing had her lover remained to her. Cherry
might have sung till her little throat was tired, and Mr. Prong might
have expressed his awe with outspread hands, and have looked as
though he expected the skies to f