“Harry, eight years ago I was as madly in love with Lady Penryn as you are now with Lucy Lugur.  All that you are suffering I have suffered.  Eight years ago we parted with tears and embraces and the most solemn promises of faithful love.  In four months she was married to Lord Penryn.”

“Oh, John, what did you do?”

“I forgot her.”

“How could you?”

“As soon as I knew she was another man’s wife, I did not dare to think of her, and finding how much thought had to do with this sin, I filled my thoughts with complex and fatiguing business; in a word, I refused to think of her in any way.

“Six years afterwards I met her at a garden party; she was with a crowd of men and women.  She had lost all her power over me.  My pulses beat at their ordinary calm pace and my heart was unmoved.”

“And how did she bear the ordeal?”

“She said, ’Good afternoon, Mr. Hatton.  I think we may have met before.’  A few days ago, we passed each other on the highway between Hatton and Overton.  I lifted my hat, and she pretended not to see me.”

“Oh, John, how could the woman treat you so!”

“She acted wisely.  I thank her for her discretion.  Now, Harry, give yourself and Lucy time to draw back, if either of you find out you have been mistaken.  There are many engagements in life that can be broken and no great harm done; but a marriage engagement, if once fulfilled, opens to you the gates of all Futurity, and if there are children it is irrevocable by any law.  No divorce undoes it.  You may likely unroll a long line of posterity who will live when you are forgotten, but whose actions, for good or evil, will be traced back to you.”

“Well, then, John, if I am to go away and give myself an opportunity to draw back, I want to go immediately.  Lucy’s father takes her to an aunt in Bradford tomorrow.  I think when people grow old, they find a perfect joy in separating lovers.”

“It is not only your love affairs that want pause and consideration, Harry.  You appear to hate your business as much as you ought to love and honor it, and I am in hopes that a few weeks or months of nothing to do will make you glad to come back to the mill.  If not—­”

“What then will you do for me, John?”

“I will buy your share of the mill.”

“Thank you, John.  I know you are good to me, but you cannot tell how certain I am about Lucy; yes, and the mill, too.”

“Well, my dear lad, I believe you tonight; but what I want you to believe is that tomorrow some new light may shine and you may see your thoughts on these two subjects in a different way.  Just keep your mind open to whatever you may see or hear that can instruct your intentions.  That is all I ask.  If you are willing to be instructed, the Instructor will come, not perhaps, but certainly.”