"That _is_ the truth; you saw her returning home." Lawrence sat down upon the rock, and, covering his forehead with one hand, seemed to reflect. "You find this task an unpleasant one?" said the woman, touching his hand with her own. He swept the hand across his forehead, scattering rich waves of hair over the temples. "It is very painful," he said, bitterly; "but, thank heaven! the mischief was not of my own making. No matter; I will go now." He turned to leave her. She grew pale and troubled. "Where shall I see you after it is over?" "Here, if you have the patience to wait." "Yes," she answered, "I will wait; it will not be long. Oh, heavens! how little time it takes to separate us forever and ever!" CHAPTER LVIII. AFTER THE PROPOSAL. He did not answer this; but his footsteps were still heard among the leaves that had fallen along the footpath, and she followed his retreating figure with eyes so full of anguish that I could not help pitying her. When Lawrence could no longer be seen through the trees, she sunk to the rock, folded both her hands over her knees, and fairly moaned with pain. There was no weeping; but dry sobs broke from her lips like gushes of lava from a crater. I remained still crouching at the foot of the hemlock, and sheltered completely by one of its wing-like branches. I was safe from detection, so steep was the descent that, without stepping to the very verge, there was no chance that any person could discover me. I had no compunction or question of honor to contend against. The contest going on in our household had become too serious for shrinking from anything that was not absolutely criminal in our defence. So bracing my foot against the ash, and sheltering my presence under the dusky hemlock, I too waited, determined not to move till that wretched woman left the ridge. Mrs. Dennison was very restless, changing her position every moment, and starting up if the least sound reached her from the woods. As time wore on, she seemed to listen till the very breath upon her lips paused. The birds, that, as I have said before, were very tame on the ground, made her restive with their singing. She hated them, I am sure, for the sweet noise that prevented her hearing his footsteps. I softly took out my watch and counted the time. He had not been absent more than fifteen minutes, when she sprang up, clenching both hands as if about to strike some one, and began to prowl up and down the path like a leopardess searching for her cubs. Now and then her voice broke through the foliage, and I could see her wringing her hands, or stamping her feet upon the dead leaves.