When
we were ready to return home he offered me his arm without speaking,
this made me angry and I walked proudly by his side. We walked on in
silence till we reached the gate at my own home. As he was turning away
he said, 'I suppose, Miss Adams, it will cause you no sorrow if I tell
you this is probably the last time we shall ever meet.' I know that even
then, had I answered him differently the matter would not have ended as
it did, but my spirit rose proud and defiant, and I said with a tone of
mock levity, 'How long a journey do you purpose taking, Mr. Blake? is it
to the grist-mill, or to the sawmill, which is a little farther away?'
'You may make light of my words, if you choose,' replied he; 'but I am
in no mood for jesting. The truth is, Miss Adams, that I can no longer
endure this life of suspense and torture, and it is evident you care
more for a giddy throng of admirers than for the love of one who has
loved you from childhood. I leave here to-morrow morning, trusting to
time and distance to assist me in forgetting you.
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