After an
early breakfast the following morning, he started for the mountains,
and no wild beast that ever roamed them would have torn him more
pitilessly than did his own outraged sense of honor and manhood.
He returned late in the evening, weary and faint, and with the
furtiveness of an outlaw, again reached his room without meeting
those whom he so wished to avoid. After the heavy, unrefreshing
sleep of utter exhaustion he once more left the house early, with
his sketch-book in hand to disguise his purpose, for it was his
intention to visit the old garden before he finally left the scenes
to which he had been led by following a mere freak of fancy. He
learned from one of Mr. Eltinge's workman that the old gentleman
would be absent from home the entire day, and thus feeling secure
from interruption, he entered the quite, shady place in which had
begun the symphony which was now ending in such harsh discord.
Seeing that he was alone he threw himself into the rustic seat,
and burying his face in his hands, soon became unconscious of the
lapse of time in his painful revery.
Chapter LII. An Illumined Face.
Ida's expression and manner when she came down to breakfast on
Sabbath morning, reminded Miss Burton of the time when the poor
girl believed that the man she loved, both despised and misjudged
her.
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