"I'm
sure it would be a relief to hear from somebody sometimes. It's like
a year from one Sunday to another."
"Did I promise to write? I really didn't remember having done so;
I'm very sorry. I might have told you about a new friend I've got."
Harriet looked sharply into his face. Julian had made no mention of
Waymark on the preceding Sunday; it had been a rainy day, and they
had only spent a few minutes together in the parlour which Mrs.
Ogle, the keeper of the shop, allowed them to use on these
occasions.
"What sort of a friend?" the girl inquired rather sourly.
"A very pleasant fellow, rather older than myself; I made his
acquaintance by chance."
Julian avoided reference to the real circumstances. He knew well the
difficulty of making Harriet understand them.
"We are going to see each other every Sunday," he went on.
"Then I suppose you'll give up coming for me?"
"Oh no, not at all. I shall see him at night always, after I have
left you."
"Where does he live?"
"Rather far off; in Kennington."
"What is he?"
"A teacher in a school. I hope to get good from being with him;
we're going to read together, and so on. I wish you could find some
pleasant companion of the same kind, Harriet; you wouldn't feel so
lonely.
Pages:
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109