for our
drive."

CHAPTER XXXV.

"When I arose and saw the dawn,
I sigh'd for thee;
When light rode high, and the dew was gone,
And noon lay heavy on flower and tree,
And the weary day turn'd to his rest,
Lingering like an unloved guest,
I sighed for thee."

--Shelley.

In her own small chamber, with all her pretty hair falling loosely
round her, stands Molly before her glass, a smile upon her lips. For is
not her lover to be with her in two short hours? Already, perhaps, he
is on his way to her, as anxious, as eager to fold her in his arms as
she will be to fly to them.

A sweet agitation possesses her. Her every thought is fraught with joy;
and if at times a misgiving, a suspicion of the hopelessness of it all,
comes as a shadow between her and the sun of her content (for is not
her marriage with Luttrell a thing as remote now as when they parted?),
she puts it from her and refuses to acknowledge a single flaw in this
one day's happiness.

She brushes out her long hair, rolling it into its usual soft knot
behind, and weaves a kiss or two and a few tender words into each rich
coil. She dons her prettiest gown, and puts on all the bravery she
possesses, to make herself more fair in the eyes of her beloved, lest
by any means he should think her less worthy of regard than when last
he saw her.

With a final, almost dissatisfied, glance at the mirror she goes
down-stairs to await his coming, all her heart one glad song.

She tries to work to while away the time, but her usually clever
fingers refuse their task, and the canvas falls unheeded to the floor.

She tries to read; but, alas! all the words grow together and form
themselves into one short sentence: "He is coming--coming--coming."

Insensibly Tennyson's words come to her, and, closing her eyes, she
repeats them softly to herself:

"O days and hours, your work is this,
To hold me from my proper place
A little while from his embrace,
For fuller gain of after-bliss.

* * *

"That out of distance might ensue
Desire of nearness doubly sweet,
And unto meeting, when we meet,
Delight a hundredfold accrue!"

At length the well-known step is heard upon the stairs, the well-known
voice, that sends a very pang of joy through every pulse in her body,
sounds eagerly through the house. His hand is on the door.

With a sudden trembling she says to herself