ad felt
that the tempest of his young passion had been about to burst, and she
had been extravagantly glad of the sudden appearance of the visitors who
made it impossible. She had been glad, but perhaps a little disappointed
too; her expectation and certainty of what was coming having risen also
to a white heat of excitement, which fell into stillness and relief at
the sight of the strangers, yet retained a certain tantalised impatience
as of one from whose lips a cup has been taken, which will certainly
have to be emptied another day. This was what she said to herself, with
a trembling and agitation which was fully justified by the scene she
anticipated. She said to herself that it must be got over, that she
would not try to balk him, but rather give him the opportunity, poor
boy! Yes! it was only just that he should have his opportunity, and
that this great crisis should be got over as best it might. Her hands
trembled as she folded Mr. Longstaffe's letter and put it away; her
mind, she allowed to herself, was not capable of business. Poor boy,
poor foolish boy! was not he a boy in comparison with herself, a woman
not only older in years, but so much older in life; a woman who had been
a wife, who was a mother; a woman whose first thoughts were already
pledged to other interests, and for whom love in his interpretation of
the word existed no more? She would look down upon him, she thought,
as from the mountain height of the calm and distant past. The very
atmosphere in which such ideas had been possible was wanting. She would
still him by a word; she would be very kind, very gentle with him, poor
boy! She would blame herself for having unintentionally, unconsciously,
put him in the way of this great misfortune. She would say to him, "How
could I have ever thought that I, a woman so much older, past anything
of the kind--that _I_ could harm you? But it is not love, it is pity, it
is because you are sorry for me! And it will pass, and you will learn to
think of me as your friend." Oh, such a friend as she would be to him!
and when some one younger, prettier, happier than she came in his way,
as would certainly happen! Lady Markland could not help feeling a little
chill at that prospect. The warmth of a young man's devotion has a great
effect upon a woman. It makes many women do foolish things, out of the
gratitude, the exhilaration of finding themselves lovable and beloved,
especially those who are past the age and the po