But he would grow young again, and even so soon he felt his
earlier manhood coming back as he rode along that pleasant
afternoon, past the fields where the newly-mown hay, fresh from a
recent shower, sent forth its fragrance upon the summer air, while
the song of the mowers mingled with the click of the whetting
scythe, made sweet, homelike sounds which he loved to hear. Why
did he lean so constantly from the carriage, and why when Victor
exclaimed, "The old ruin is there yet," referring to Grassy Spring
did he, too, look across the valley?
Arthur asked himself this question many times, and at last, when
they reached Collingwood and Edith had alighted, he bent forward
and whispered in Richard's ear, not an interrogation, but a
positive affirmation, which brought back the response,
"Don't tell her--not yet, I mean." Arthur turned very white and
could scarcely stand as he stepped to the ground, for that answer,
had taken his strength away, and Victor led him instead of his
master into the house, where the latter was greeted joyfully by
the astonished servants.
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