for the life of humble faith. Accepting such a husband as
Eustace, she had committed not only an error, but a sin. The man was
without religion, and sometimes made himself guilty of hypocrisy; of
this she felt a miserable assurance. How could she hope to be happy
with him? What had interested her in him was that air of culture and
refinement so conspicuously lacked by the men who had hitherto
approached her. He had seemed to her the first _gentleman_ who sought
her favour. To countenance him, moreover, was to defy her mother's
petty rule. But, no, she did not love him--did not like him.
Yet to retract her promise she was ashamed. Only girls of low social
position played fast and loose in that way. She went through a night of
misery.
On the morrow her betrothed, of course, came to see her. Woman-like,
she had taken refuge in a resolve of postponement; the marriage must be
sooner or later, but it was in her power to put it off. And, with show
of regretful prudence, she made known this change in her mind.
"I hardly knew what I was saying. I ought to have remembered that our
acquaintance has been very short."
"Yet long enough to enable me to win your promise," urged Glazzard.
"Yes, I have promised. It's only that we cannot be married so very
soon."
"I must, of course, yield," he replied, gracefully, kissing her hand.
"Decision as to the time shall rest entirely with you."
"Thank you--that is very kind."
He went away in a mood of extreme discontent. Was this little simpleton
going to play with him? There were solid reasons of more than one kind
why the marriage should not be long delayed. It would be best if he
returned to London and communicated with her by letter. He could write
eloquently, and to let her think of him as in the midst of gay society
might not be amiss.
Shortly after Quarrier's arrival at Polterham, he was back again. Daily
he had repented his engagement, yet as often had congratulated himself
on the windfall thus assured to him. Before going to the Mumbrays, he
called upon Mrs. Quarrier, whom, as it chanced, he found alone. To
Lilian his appearance was a shock, for in the contentment of the past
week she had practically forgotten the existence of this man who shared
her secret. She could not look him in the face.
Glazzard could be trusted in points of tact. He entered with a bright
face, and the greetings of an old friend, then at once began to speak
of his own affairs.
"Have you he
|