Haward rose from the grass, and, with his back to the gray hole of the
willow, looked first at the veil of leaf and stem through which dimly
showed house, orchard, and blue sky, then down upon the girl at his feet.
Her head was bent and she sat very still, one listless, upturned hand upon
the grass beside her, the other lying as quietly among her flowers.
"Audrey," he said at last, "you shame me in your thoughts of me. I am not
that knight without fear and without reproach for which you take me. Being
what I am, you must believe that you have not wearied me; that I think of
you and wish to see you. And Hugon, having possibly some care for his own
neck, will do me no harm; that is a very foolish notion, which you must
put from you. Now listen." He knelt beside her and took her hand in his.
"After a while, perhaps, when the weather is cooler, and I must open my
house and entertain after the fashion of the country; when the new
Governor comes in, and all this gay little world of Virginia flocks to
Williamsburgh; when I am a Councilor, and must go with the rest, and must
think of gold and place and people,--why, then, maybe, our paths will
again diverge, and only now and then will I catch the gleam of your skirt,
mountain maid, brown Audrey!
But now in these midsummer days it is a
sleepy world, that cares not to go bustling up and down. I am alone in my
house; I visit not nor am visited, and the days hang heavy. Let us make
believe for a time that the mountains are all around us, that it was but
yesterday we traveled together. It is only a little way from Fair View to
the glebe house, from the glebe house to Fair View. I will see you often,
little maid, and you must dream no more as you dreamed last night." He
paused; his voice changed, and he went on as to himself: "It is a lonely
land, with few to see and none to care. I will drift with the summer,
making of it an idyl, beautiful,--yes, and innocent! When autumn comes I
will go to Westover."
Of this speech Audrey caught only the last word. A wonderful smile, so
bright was it, and withal so sad, came into her face. "Westover!" she said
to herself. "That is where the princess lives."
"We will let thought alone," continued Haward. "It suits not with this
charmed light, this glamour of the summer." He made a laughing gesture.
"Hey, presto! little maid, there go the years rolling back! I swear I see
the mountains through the willow leaves."