Victorian Short Stories | Page 7

and that he was on the
whole a man of more mark in the world than the ordinary captains of
ordinary regiments.
Captain Broughton came to Oxney Colne, stayed there a fortnight--the
intended period for his projected visit having been fixed at three or four
days--and then went his way. He went his way back to his London
haunts, the time of the year then being the close of the Easter holy-days;
but as he did so he told his aunt that he should assuredly return to her in
the autumn.
'And assuredly I shall be happy to see you, John--if you come with a
certain purpose. If you have no such purpose, you had better remain
away.'
'I shall assuredly come,' the Captain had replied, and then he had gone
on his journey.
The summer passed rapidly by, and very little was said between Miss
Le Smyrger and Miss Woolsworthy about Captain Broughton. In many
respects--nay, I may say, as to all ordinary matters,--no two women
could well be more intimate with each other than they were; and more
than that, they had the courage each to talk to the other with absolute
truth as to things concerning themselves--a courage in which dear
friends often fail. But, nevertheless, very little was said between them
about Captain John Broughton. All that was said may be here repeated.
'John says that he shall return here in August,' Miss Le Smyrger said as
Patience was sitting with her in the parlour at Oxney Colne, on the
morning after that gentleman's departure.
'He told me so himself,' said Patience; and as she spoke her round dark
eyes assumed a look of more than ordinary self-will. If Miss Le
Smyrger had intended to carry the conversation any further she
changed her mind as she looked at her companion. Then, as I said, the
summer ran by, and towards the close of the warm days of July, Miss
Le Smyrger, sitting in the same chair in the same room, again took up
the conversation.

'I got a letter from John this morning. He says that he shall be here on
the third.'
'Does he?'
'He is very punctual to the time he named.'
'Yes; I fancy that he is a punctual man,' said Patience.
'I hope that you will be glad to see him,' said Miss Le Smyrger.
'Very glad to see him,' said Patience, with a bold clear voice; and then
the conversation was again dropped, and nothing further was said till
after Captain Broughton's second arrival in the parish.
Four months had then passed since his departure, and during that time
Miss Woolsworthy had performed all her usual daily duties in their
accustomed course. No one could discover that she had been less
careful in her household matters than had been her wont, less willing to
go among her poor neighbours, or less assiduous in her attentions to her
father. But not the less was there a feeling in the minds of those around
her that some great change had come upon her. She would sit during
the long summer evenings on a certain spot outside the parsonage
orchard, at the top of a small sloping field in which their solitary cow
was always pastured, with a book on her knees before her, but rarely
reading. There she would sit, with the beautiful view down to the
winding river below her, watching the setting sun, and thinking,
thinking, thinking--thinking of something of which she had never
spoken. Often would Miss Le Smyrger come upon her there, and
sometimes would pass her even without a word; but never--never once
did she dare to ask of the matter of her thoughts. But she knew the
matter well enough. No confession was necessary to inform her that
Patience Woolsworthy was in love with John Broughton--ay, in love, to
the full and entire loss of her whole heart.
On one evening she was so sitting till the July sun had fallen and
hidden himself for the night, when her father came upon her as he
returned from one of his rambles on the moor. 'Patty,' he said, 'you are
always sitting there now. Is it not late? Will you not be cold?'
'No papa,' she said, 'I shall not be cold.'
'But won't you come to the house? I miss you when you come in so late
that there's no time to say a word before we go to bed.'
She got up and followed him into the parsonage, and when they were in
the sitting-room together, and the door was closed, she came up to him

and kissed him. 'Papa,' she said, 'would it make you very unhappy if I
were to leave you?'
'Leave me!' he said, startled by the serious and almost solemn tone of
her