Mira’s interests were my interests now.
Her sudden departure from New York had rendered it impossible to communicate by letter with her aunt. When the vessel reached Liverpool, my first proceeding was to send a telegraphic message, in her name, to Miss Urban: ‘Expect me by the afternoon train; explanations when we meet.’ I begged hard to be allowed to travel with her. In this case I deserved a refusal, and I got what I deserved.
‘It is quite bad enough,’ Mira said, ‘for me to take Miss Urban by surprise. I must not venture to bring a stranger with me, until I have secured a welcome for him by telling my aunt of our marriage engagement. When she has heard all that I can say in your favour, expect a letter from me with an invitation.’
‘May I hope for your letter to-morrow?’
She smiled at my impatience. ‘I will do all I can,’ she said kindly, ‘to hurry my aunt.’
Some people, as I have heard, feel presentiments of evil when unexpected troubles are lying in wait for them. No such forebodings weighed on Mira’s mind or on mine. When I put her into the railway carriage, she asked if I had any message for her aunt. I sent my love. She laughed over my audacious familiarity, as gaily as a child.
The next day came, and brought with it no letter. I tried to quiet my impatience by anticipating the arrival of a telegram. The day wore on to evening, and no telegram appeared.
My first impulse was to follow Mira, without waiting for a formal invitation from her aunt. On reflection, however, I felt that such a headlong proceeding as this might perhaps injure me in Miss Urban’s estimation. There was nothing for it but to practise self-restraint, and hope to find myself rewarded on the next morning.
I was up and ready at the door of the lodging to take my expected letter from the postman’s hand. There were letters for other people in the house — nothing had arrived for me. For two hours more I waited on the chance of getting a telegram, and still waited in vain. My suspense and anxiety were no longer to be trifled with. Come what might of it, I resolved to follow Mira to her aunt’s house.
There was no difficulty in discovering Miss Urban. Everybody at Lewk-Bircot knew the schoolmistress’s spacious and handsome establishment for young ladies. The fear had come to me, in the railway, that Mira might not have met with the reception which she had anticipated, and might have left her aunt, under a sense of injury only too natural in a high-spirited young woman. In horrid doubt, I asked if Miss Ringmore was at home. When the man servant said ‘Yes, sir,’ so great was my sense of relief that I protest I could have hugged him.
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I was shown into a little drawing-room, while the servant took my card upstairs. The window looked out on a garden. It was the hour of recreation: the young ladies were amusing themselves. They failed to interest me. The one object I cared to look at was the door of the room. At last it was opened; suddenly, violently opened. Mira came in with such an altered expression in her face, such a singular mingling in her eyes and confusion in her manner, that I stood like a fool, looking at her in silence. She was the first to speak.
&nbs............
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