He gave up, therefore, this hope, and tried to content himself with the other, on which, however, he placed little reliance, that Lucia herself might recall him before the day was over.  In the almost certainty that he had lost her, it was strange how completely he again forgot the difficulties that had troubled him before, and thought simply of her.  At that moment he would willingly have sacrificed everything he could sacrifice for the knowledge that her secret was only a phantom, and that she was really to be his wife.  Of course such a mood could not last.  As evening drew on, and there was no word or sign from the Cottage, he began to feel angry both with Lucia and himself; and at night, when he had announced to his host and hostess that he should leave them by the next day’s boat, he had made another step, and begun to think it possible that this state of affairs was better and more sensible than if he had been successful in his plan for delaying his journey a little longer and taking a bride home with him.  After all, he concluded, this might only be a delay.  If Lucia had refused to marry him, she had also declared that she would not marry at all.  She meant, therefore, to remain free, and a year hence perhaps all might yet come right.  If she cared for him, she would have come to her senses by that time, and be more able to judge whether they really must remain apart or not.

But early in the morning, when he woke, and remembered that it was the last time he would wake in her neighbourhood, he was seized with an unconquerable longing to see her again, however fruitlessly.  He stole out softly, and walked to the Cottage.  He knew that Lucia often worked among her flowers early, and guessed that that morning she would not be likely to sleep.  He looked eagerly into the garden.  She was not there, but he caught the flutter of her dress on the verandah; and thus encouraged, he walked to the door boldly and knocked; but Lucia had seen him also.  She hurried to her own room.  And when Margery, much amazed, came to tell her that Mr. Percy was asking for her, she said quietly, “Tell him that I have not left my room yet, and that I wish him a safe and prosperous voyage.”  They were the first words she thought of, and they sufficed.  He went home, and commenced his preparations for departure without further delay; by that means greatly contenting Mrs. Bellairs, who at present wished for nothing so much as to be rid of her handsome guest.  She was very civil to him, however, in the prospect of his going away, and the temptation to speak to her about Lucia again beset him strongly.  But then to tell her, or even hint to her ever so slightly, that he had been rejected by a little simple Canadian girl, was not so easy a matter to his masculine pride as it would have been yesterday, so the time passed, and nothing was said.