could not possibly know her thoughts: whether she was
still cherishing her old designs, or had given them up altogether. He
could only stifle his impatience, and wait, and watch, and wait. But
how was it with her? Was she, too, watching and waiting for some
opportunity? He thought so. But with what aim, or for what purpose?
That was the puzzle. Yet that there was something on her mind which
she wished to communicate to him he knew well; for it had at last
happened that Hilda had changed in some degree from her cool and
undemonstrative manner. He encountered sometimes--or thought that he
encountered--an earnest glance which she threw at him, on greeting
him, full of meaning, which told him this most plainly. It seemed to
him to say: Wait, wait, wait; when the time comes. I have that to say
which you will be glad to learn. What it might be he knew not, nor
could he conjecture; but he thought that it might still refer to the
secret of that mysterious cipher which had baffled them both.

Thus these two watched and waited. Months passed away, but no
opportunity for an interview arose. Of course, if Hilda had been
reckless, or if it had been absolutely necessary to have one, she
could easily have arranged it. The park was wide, full of lonely
paths and sequestered retreats, where meetings could have been had,
quite free from all danger of observation or interruption. She needed
only to slip a note into his hand, telling him to meet her at some
place there, and he would obey her will. But Hilda did not choose to
do any thing of the kind. Whatever she did could only be done by her
in strict accordance with _les convenances_. She would have waited
for months before she would consent to compromise herself so far as
to solicit a stolen interview. It was not the dread of discovery,
however, that deterred her; for, in a place like Chetwynde, that need
not have been feared, and if she had been so disposed, she could have
had an interview with Gualtier every week, which no one would have
found out. The thing which deterred her was something very different
from this. It was her own pride. She could not humble herself so far
as to do this. Such an act would be to descend from the position
which she at present occupied in his eyes. To compromise herself, or
in any way put herself in his power, was impossible for one like her.
It was not, however, from any thing like moral cowardice that she
held aloof from making an interview with him;