as we went home, till we were in the house and had lit our bed-room candles. Then he said, more to himself than to me, "The heart knoweth its own bitterness. I never understood those words till now."
The next few days passed wearily enough. I felt no inclination to call again, by myself, at the Hall; still less to propose that Arthur should go with me: it seemed better to wait till Time——that gentle healer of our bitterest sorrows——should have helped him to recover from the first shock of the disappointment that had blighted his life.
Business, however, soon demanded my presence in town; and I had to announce to Arthur that I must leave him for a while. "But I hope to run down again in a month," I added. "I would stay now, if I could. I don't think it's good for you to be alone."
"No, I ca'n't face solitude, here, for long," said Arthur. "But don't think about me. I have made up my mind to accept a post in India, that has been offered me. Out there, I suppose I shall find something to live for; I ca'n't see anything at present. 'This life of
