Anne could do no more; but her heart prophesied some mischance to damp the perfection of her felicity.  It could not be very lasting, however.  Even if he did not come to Camden Place himself, it would be in her power to send an intelligible sentence by Captain Harville.  Another momentary vexation occurred.  Charles, in his real concern and good nature, would go home with her; there was no preventing him.  This was almost cruel.  But she could not be long ungrateful; he was sacrificing an engagement at a gunsmith’s, to be of use to her; and she set off with him, with no feeling but gratitude apparent.

They were on Union Street, when a quicker step behind, a something of familiar sound, gave her two moments’ preparation for the sight of Captain Wentworth.  He joined them; but, as if irresolute whether to join or to pass on, said nothing, only looked.  Anne could command herself enough to receive that look, and not repulsively.  The cheeks which had been pale now glowed, and the movements which had hesitated were decided.  He walked by her side.  Presently, struck by a sudden thought, Charles said—­

“Captain Wentworth, which way are you going?  Only to Gay Street, or farther up the town?”

“I hardly know,” replied Captain Wentworth, surprised.

“Are you going as high as Belmont?  Are you going near Camden Place?  Because, if you are, I shall have no scruple in asking you to take my place, and give Anne your arm to her father’s door.  She is rather done for this morning, and must not go so far without help, and I ought to be at that fellow’s in the Market Place.  He promised me the sight of a capital gun he is just going to send off; said he would keep it unpacked to the last possible moment, that I might see it; and if I do not turn back now, I have no chance.  By his description, a good deal like the second size double-barrel of mine, which you shot with one day round Winthrop.”

There could not be an objection.  There could be only the most proper alacrity, a most obliging compliance for public view; and smiles reined in and spirits dancing in private rapture.  In half a minute Charles was at the bottom of Union Street again, and the other two proceeding together:  and soon words enough had passed between them to decide their direction towards the comparatively quiet and retired gravel walk, where the power of conversation would make the present hour a blessing indeed, and prepare it for all the immortality which the happiest recollections of their own future lives could bestow.  There they exchanged again those feelings and those promises which had once before seemed to secure everything, but which had been followed by so many, many years of division and estrangement.  There they returned again into the past, more exquisitely happy, perhaps, in their re-union, than when it had been first projected; more tender, more tried, more fixed in a knowledge of each other’s character, truth, and attachment;