The Laurel Bush | Page 5

to her one word of love, actual love,
no more than he spoke now, as they stood side by side, looking with the
same eyes on the same scene. I say the same eyes, for they were
exceedingly alike in their tastes. There was no need ever to go into long
explanations about this or that; a glance sufficed, or a word, to show
each what the other enjoyed; and both had the quiet conviction that
they were enjoying it together. Now as that sweet, still, sunshiny view
met their mutual gaze, they fell into no poetical raptures, but just stood
and looked, taking it all in with exceeding pleasure, as they had done
many and many a time, but never, it seemed, so perfectly as now.
"What a lovely afternoon!" she said at last.
"Yes. It is a pity to waste it. Have you any thing special to do? What
did you mean to employ yourself with, now your birds are flown?"
"Oh, I can always find something to do."
"But need you find it? We both work so hard. If we could only now and
then have a little bit of pleasure!"
He put it so simply, yet almost with a sigh. This poor girl's heart
responded to it suddenly, wildly. She was only twenty-five, yet
sometimes she felt quite old, or rather as if she had never been young.
The constant teaching, teaching of rough boys too--for she had had the
whole four till Mr. Roy took the two elder off her hands--the necessity
of grinding hard out of school hours to keep herself up in Latin, Euclid,
and other branches which do not usually form a part of a feminine
education, only having a great natural love of work, she had taught
herself--all these things combined to make her life a dull life, a hard life,
till Robert Roy came into it. And sometimes even now the desperate
craving to enjoy--not only to endure, but to enjoy--to take a little of the
natural pleasures of her age--came to the poor governess very sorely,
especially on days such as this, when all the outward world looked so

gay, so idle, and she worked so hard.
So did Robert Roy. Life was not easier to him than to herself; she knew
that; and when he said, half joking, as if he wanted to feel his way, "Let
us imitate our boys, and take a half holiday," she only laughed, but did
not refuse.
How could she refuse? There were the long smooth sands on either side
the Eden, stretching away into indefinite distance, with not a human
being upon them to break their loneliness, or, if there was, he or she
looked a mere dot, not human at all. Even if these two had been afraid
of being seen walking together--which they hardly were, being too
unimportant for any one to care whether they were friends or lovers, or
what not--there was nobody to see them, except in the character of two
black dots on the yellow sands.
"It is low water; suppose we go and look for sea-anemones. One of my
pupils wants some, and I promised to try and find one the first spare
hour I had."
"But we shall not find anemones on the sands."
"Shells, then, you practical woman! We'll gather shells. It will be all the
same to that poor invalid boy--and to me," added he, with that
involuntary sigh which she had noticed more than once, and which had
begun to strike on her ears not quite painfully. Sighs, when we are
young, mean differently to what they do in after-years. "I don't care
very much where I go, or what I do; I only want--well, to be happy for
an hour, if Providence will let me."
"Why should not Providence let you?" said Fortune, gently. "Few
people deserve it more."
"You are kind to think so; but you are always kind to every body."
By this time they had left their position by the laurel bush, and were
walking along side by side, according as he had suggested. This silent,
instinctive acquiescence in what he wished done--it had happened once

or twice before, startling her a little at herself; for, as I have said, Miss
Williams was not at all the kind of person to do every thing that every
body asked her, without considering whether it was right or wrong. She
could obey, but it would depend entirely upon whom she had to obey,
which, indeed, makes the sole difference between loving disciples and
slavish fools.
It was a lovely day, one of those serene autumn days peculiar to
Scotland--I was going to say Saint Andrews; and any one who knows
the ancient city will know exactly how it looks in the