Phyllis thanked him for his beautiful gift; but the talking was soon on Humphrey’s side as they walked along. He told her of the latest movements of the world of fashion—a subject which she willingly discussed to the of anything more personal—and his measured language helped to still her heart and brain. Had not her own sadness been what it was she must have observed his . At last he changed the subject.
‘I am glad you are pleased with my little present,’ he said. ‘The truth is that I brought it to ’ee, and to get you to help me out of a difficulty.’
It was inconceivable to Phyllis that this independent bachelor—whom she admired in some respects—could have a difficulty.
‘Phyllis—I’ll tell you my secret at once; for I have a secret to before I can ask your counsel. The case is, then, that I am married: yes, I have married a dear young ; and if you knew her, and I hope you will, you would say everything in her praise. But she is not quite the one that my father would have chose for me—you know the idea as well as I—and I have kept it secret. There will be a terrible noise, no doubt; but I think that with your help I may get over it. If you would only do me this good turn—when I have told my father, I mean—say that you never could have married me, you know, or something of that sort—’pon my life it will help to smooth the way vastly. I am so anxious to win him round to my point of view, and not to cause any .’
What Phyllis replied she scarcely knew, or how she counselled him as to his unexpected situation. Yet the relief that his announcement brought her was perceptible. To have her trouble in return was what her aching heart longed to do; and had Humphrey been a woman she would instantly have poured out her tale. But to him she feared to confess; and there was a real reason for silence, till a sufficient time had elapsed to allow her lover and his comrade to get out of harm’s way.
As soon as she reached home again she sought a place, and spent the time in half regretting that she had not gone away, and in dreaming over the meetings with Matthäus Tina from their beginning to their end. In his own country, amongst his own countrywomen, he would possibly soon forget her, even to her very name.
Her listlessness was such that she did not go out of the house for several days. There came a morning which broke in fog and mist, behind which the dawn could be discerned in greenish grey; and the outlines of the tents, and the rows of horses at the ropes. The smoke from the canteen fires heavily.
The spot at the bottom of the garden where she had been accustomed to climb the wall to meet Matthäus, was the only inch of English ground in which she took any interest; and in spite of the disagreeable she walked out there till she reached the well-known corner. Every blade of grass was weighted with little liquid globes, and slugs and had crept out upon the plots. She could hear the usual faint noises from the camp, and in the other direction the of farmers on the road to the town, for it was market-day. She observed that her frequent visits to this corner had quite trodden down the grass in the angle of the wall, and left marks of garden soil on the stepping-stones by which she had mounted to look over the top. Seldom having gone there till dusk, she had not considered that her traces might be visible by day. Perhaps it was these which had revealed her to her father.
While she paused in regard, she fancied that the customary sounds from the tents were changing their character. Indifferent as Phyllis was to camp doings now, she mounted by the steps to the old place. What she at first and her; then she stood , her fingers hooked to the wall, he............