The matter was settled in one way; but the pain of it took longer to come to an end. It is sorrowful to me to remember now how hard it was to get over. My vanity I was heartily ashamed of, and bade that show its head no more; my emulation of Faustina St. Clair gave me some horror; but the pleasure--the real honest pleasure, of the scene, and the music and the excitement and the dancing and the seeing people--all that I did not let go for ever without a hard time of sorrow and some tears. It was not a _struggle_, for I gave that up at once; only I had to fight pain. It was one of the hardest things I ever did in my life. And the worst of all and the most incurable was, I should miss seeing Mr. Thorold. One or two more walks, possibly, I might have with him; but those long, short evenings of seeing and talking and dancing!
Mrs. Sandford argued, coaxed, and rallied me; and then said, if I would not go, she should not; and she did not. That evening we spent at home together, and alone; for everybody else had drifted over to the hop. I suppose Mrs. Sandford found it dull; for the next hop night she changed her mind and left me. I had rather a sorrowful evening. Dr. Sandford had not come back from the mountains; indeed, I did not wish for him; and Thorold had not been near us for several days. My fairyland was getting disenchanted a little bit. But I was quite sure I had done right.
The next morning, I had hardly been three minutes on my rock by the river, when Mr. Thorold came round the turn of the walk and took a seat beside me.
"How do you do?" said he, stretching out his hand. I put mine in it.
"What has become of my friend, this seven years?"
"I see you. But why have I _not_ seen you, all this while?"
"I suppose you have been busy," I answered.
"Busy! Of course I have, or I should have been here asking questions. I was not too busy to dance with you: and I was promised--how many dances? Where have you been?"
Would Mr. Thorold understand me? Mrs. Sandford did not. My own mother never did. I hesitated, and he repeated his question, and those hazel eyes were sparkling all sorts of queries around me.
"I have given up going to the hops," I said.
"Given up? Do you mean, you _don't_ mean, that you are never coming any more?"