It is strange how women can put out an
invisible arm and push one off to an infinite removal.
With a miserable sense of cold exhaustion and aching disappointment, he
left her. She shook hands with him warmly, was very sorry her uncle was
out, and asked him whether he would not call again to-morrow, when he
would certainly be at home? He thanked her in a voice that seemed to
him not his own, while her voice appeared to him to come out of some
far-off cave of the past. The cold frosty air received him as he
stepped from the door, and its breath was friendly. If the winter would
only freeze him to one of its icicles, and still that heart of his
which would go on throbbing although there was no reason for it to
throb any more! Yet had he not often found her different from what he
had expected? And might not this be only one of her many changeful
moods? Perhaps.
So feeling that he had nothing to do and only one thing to think about,
he wandered further through the old burgh, past the lingering fragment
of its once mighty cathedral, and down to the bridge which, with its
one Gothic arch as old as the youth of Chaucer, spanned the channel,
here deep and narrow, of the long-drawn Highland river.
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