much natural feeling in it as gave it
reality! They were approaching No. 6, and Martha, the maid, already was
visible at the open door.

"Then you do give me some share--some little share," he cried, with a
broken voice. "Ah, if you would only let me tell you what your coming
has been to me. It has opened up my life; I feel everything different,
the old earth itself; there is a new light upon the whole world--"

"Hush, here is Martha!" cried Phoebe, "she will not understand about new
lights. Yes, it has been pleasant, very pleasant; when one begins to
sigh and realize how pleasant a thing has been, I always fear it is
going to be broken up."

"_Absit omen!_" cried Reginald, fervently, taking the hand she had put
out to bid him good night, and holding it fast to detain her; and was
there moisture in the eyes which she lifted to him, and which glistened,
he thought, though there was only the distant light of a lamp to see
them by?

"You must not keep me now," cried Phoebe, "here is grandpapa coming. Good
night, Mr. May, good night."

Was Phoebe a mere coquette _pure et simple_? As soon as she had got safe
within these walls, she stooped down over the primroses to get rid of
Martha, and then in the darkness had a cry, all by herself, on one side
of the wall, while the young lover, with his head full of her, checked,
but not altogether discouraged, went slowly away on the other. She
cried, and her heart contracted with a real pang. He was very tender in
his reverential homage, very romantic, a true lover, not the kind of man
who wants a wife or wants a clever companion to amuse him, and save him
the expense of a coach, and be his to refer to in everything. That was
an altogether different kind of thing. Phoebe went in with a sense in her
mind that perhaps she had never touched so close upon a higher kind of
existence, and perhaps never again might have the opportunity; but
before she had crossed the garden, she had begun once more to question
whether Clarence would have the fortitude to hold his own against
everything that father or mother could do to change his mind. Would he
have the fortitude? Would he come back to her, safe and determined, or
would he yield to arguments in favour of some richer bride, and come
back either estranged or at the least doubtful? This gave her a pang of
profound anxiety at the bottom of her heart.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

AN EXPEDITION.

Mr. May did not come upstairs that evening