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And still Wilford hesitated, waiting until the winter was over before he came to the decision which when it was reached was firm as a granite rock. He had made up his mind at last to marry Katy Lennox if she would accept him, and he told his mother so in the presence of his sisters, when one evening they were all kept at home by the rain.
Katy thought, as she next day made her preparations for the call, and had Wilford been parsimoniously inclined, he might have winced could he have seen the numerous stores gathered up for Marian and packed away in the carriage with the bundle of cambric and linen and lace, all destined for that fourth-story chamber where Marian Hazelton sat that summer morning, looking drearily out upon the dingy court and contrasting its sickly patch of grass, embellished with rain water barrels, coal hods and ash pails, with the country she had so lately left, the wooded hills and blooming gardens of Silverton, which had been her home for nearly two years.
She was past all that, but her face was like a piece of marble, and her eyes were like those of the hunted fawn when the chase is at its height and escape impossible. "Wilford would come back if he knew just how it was," the father said, "but the trouble is where to find him. He speaks of writing to me, as I presume he will in a day or so, and perhaps it will be as well to wait till then.
It seems pretty hard my Wilford couldn't been having a good time with the rest to-day. He was always such a Fourth-of-July boy." "But he's happy where he is, Mrs. Fogle," said Mrs. Baker, gently. "Well, I know he'd give anything to been here with the boys to-day I don't care where he is.
They were going soon into the northern part of England, and from thence into Scotland, Katy wrote from London, and two weeks after found them comfortably settled at the inn at Alnwick, near to Alnwick Castle. Wilford had seemed very anxious to get there, leaving London before Katy was quite ready to leave, and hurrying across the country until Alnwick was reached.
Morris asked, coming close to her now, and imprisoning her hands, which she did not try to take away, but let them lie in his as he continued: "Wilford was willing at the last. Have you forgotten that?" "I had, until Helen reminded me." Katy replied. "But, Morris, the talking of this thing brings Wilford's death back so vividly, making it seem but yesterday since I held his dying head."
She could tell Wilford, if she liked, but he must not be permitted to find the letter, as he would if he returned while she was gone. "I will go with you. It is not safe for you to go alone," he continued, feeling her rapid pulse and noticing the alternate flushing and paling of her cheek. A fever was coming on, he feared, and it must not be there with him, for more reasons than one.
Mark is a good fellow, and I really think we have him to thank in a measure for Katy's successful début. He was the first to take her from Wilford, walking with her up and down the hall by way of reassuring her, and once as they passed me I heard her say: "I feel so timid here so much afraid of doing something wrong something countrified." "Never mind," he answered.
She didn't believe in it, to be sure none of the orthodox did; but as Wilford was a 'Piscopal, and that was a 'Piscopal quirk, it wouldn't harm for once." Wilford tried not to show his disgust, and only Helen suspected how hard it was for him to keep down his utter contempt. She saw it in his eyes, which resembled two smoldering volcanoes as they rested upon Aunt Betsy during her harangue.
Wilford Cameron, while our opera box between the scenes is packed with beaus, until one would suppose Wilford might be jealous; but Katy takes it all so quietly and modestly, seeming only gratified for his sake, that I really believe he enjoys it more than she does.
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