Archie's slow pace was quickened; his legs hasted to her
though his heart was hanging back. The girl, upon her side, drew
herself together slowly and stood up, expectant; she was all languor,
her face was gone white; her arms ached for him, her soul was on tip-
toes. But he deceived her, pausing a few steps away, not less white
than herself, and holding up his hand with a gesture of denial.
"No, Christina, not to-day," he said. "To-day I have to talk to you
seriously. Sit ye down, please, there where you were. Please!" he
repeated.
The revulsion of feeling in Christina's heart was violent. To have
longed and waited these weary hours for him, rehearsing her endearments
- to have seen him at last come - to have been ready there, breathless,
wholly passive, his to do what he would with - and suddenly to have
found herself confronted with a grey-faced, harsh schoolmaster - it was
too rude a shock. She could have wept, but pride withheld her. She sat
down on the stone, from which she had arisen, part with the instinct of
obedience, part as though she had been thrust there.
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