The letters swam before David’s eyes.

Lucy came to the table, and, standing close behind David—­so close that he felt her pure cool breath mingle with his hair, said to her uncle:  “Mr. Talboys proposes to me to ride the first stage to-morrow; if I do, you must be of the party.”

“Oh, must I?  Well, I’ll roll after you in my phaeton.”

At this moment Eve could bear no longer the anguish on David’s beloved face.  It made her hysterical.  She could hardly command herself.  She rose hastily, and saying, “We must not keep you up the night before a journey,” took leave with David.  As he shook hands with Lucy, his imploring eye turned full on hers, and sought to dive into her heart.  But that soft sapphire eye was unfathomable.  It was like those dark blue southern waters that seem to reveal all, yet hide all, so deep they are, though clear.

Eve.  “Thank Heaven, we are safe out of the house.”

David.  “I have got a rival.”

Eve.  “A pretty rival; she doesn’t care a button for him.”

David.  “He rides the first stage with her.”

Eve.  “Well, what of that?”

David.  “I have got a rival.”

David was none of your lie-a-beds.  He rose at five in summer, six in winter, and studied hard till breakfast time; after that he was at every fool’s service.  This morning he did not appear at the breakfast table, and the servant had not seen him about.  Eve ran upstairs full of anxiety.  He was not in his room.  The bed had not been slept in; the impress of his body outside showed, however, that he had flung himself down on it to snatch an uneasy slumber.

Eve sent the girl into the village to see if she could find him or hear tidings of him.  The girl ran out without her bonnet, partaking her mistress’s anxiety, but did not return for nearly half an hour, that seemed an age to Eve.  The girl had lost some time by going to Josh Grace for information.  Grace’s house stood in an orchard; so he was the unlikeliest man in the village to have seen David.  She set against this trivial circumstance the weighty one that he was her sweetheart, and went to him first.

“I hain’t a-sin him, Sue; thee hadst better ask at the blacksmith’s shop,” said Joshua Grace.

Susan profited by this hint, and learned at the blacksmith’s shop that David had gone by up the road about six in the morning, walking very fast.  She brought the news to Eve.

“Toward Royston?”

“Yes, miss; but, la! he won’t ever think to go all the way to Royston—­without his breakfast.”

“That will do, Susan.  I think I know what he is gone for.”

On the servant retiring, her assumed firmness left her.

“On the road she is to travel! and his rival with her.  What mad act is he going to do?  Heaven have mercy on him, and me, and her!”