They were both
aware that it was a farce, and that they were playing a part, for
beneath the external ice of formalities the river of their devotion
ran strong--whither they knew not. All that had been made clear a few
nights back. But what will you have? Necessity over-riding their
desires, compelled them along the path of self-denial, and, like wise
folk, they recognised the fact: for there is nothing more painful in
the world than the outburst of hopeless affection.
And so they talked about painting and shooting and what not, till they
reached the grey old Castle towers. Here Harold wanted to bid her
good-bye, but she persuaded him to come in and have some tea, saying
that her father would like to say good-night to him.
Accordingly he went into the vestibule, where there was a light, for
it was getting dusk; and here he found the Squire and Mr. Cossey. As
soon as he entered, Edward Cossey rose, said good-night to the Squire
and Ida, and then passed towards the door, where the Colonel was
standing, rubbing the mud off his shooting boots. As he came, Harold
being slightly ashamed of the business of the shooting match, and very
sorry to have humiliated a man who prided himself so much upon his
skill in a particular branch of sport, held out his hand and said in a
friendly tone:
"Good-night, Mr.
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