"Of course I love you to bring me things," she would say, looking up in his face with her clear, candid eyes; "but indeed, dear Erle, I do not need so many proofs of your affection."
"I feel as though I should never do enough for you, Eva," he answered, hurriedly; "you must not refuse to let me give you things. I am always thinking how I am to please you;" and as he clasped the diamond bracelet on the slender wrist he suddenly remembered what a pretty hand Fern had, so white and dimpled, and a vivid longing came over him, turning him nearly sick with pain, to see that sweet face again, and to hear from those frank, beautiful lips that she was glad to see him; but he never yielded to the temptation.
On the contrary, he had put all such visits out of his power; for he had written to Mrs. Trafford within a few days of his engagement, telling her that his uncle had interdicted them, and that he dared not risk his displeasure, deeply as he regretted such a break in their intercourse; and he told her that he and Miss Selby were engaged, and would probably be married in the autumn; and then he sent his kind remembrances to her daughter.
Mrs. Trafford thought it a very manly and straightforward letter. He had not acted so very badly after all, she thought; her father's strong will had evidently coerced him, and she knew how strong that will could be. He had meant no harm; he had only said pleasant things because it was his nature to say them; if only it had not gone very deep with Fern.
"I have had a letter from Mr. Erle, my darling," she said, quietly, as she noticed the girl had turned a shade paler, as though she had recognized the handwriting; but she had not spoken, only bent lower over her work.
"Yes, mother," in a very low voice; "and I suppose he has told you the news."
"That he and Miss Selby are engaged. Oh, yes, I knew it directly I saw the letter. It is good of him to tell us so soon. I am glad; you must tell him we are glad, mother."
"Will that be the truth, Fern?" looking at her doubtfully.
"One ought to be glad when one's friends are happy," was the unsteady answer. "If he loves her, of course he must want to marry her. Crystal says that she is very handsome and looks so nice. You must write a very pretty letter to him, mother, and say all sorts of kind things. And it is for us to be glad that he has got his wish, for I think he has not looked quite happy lately." And Fern folded up her work in her old business-like manner, and then went about the room, putting little touches here and there; and if she were a little pale, the dusk soon hid it. Mrs. Trafford had no fault to find with her daughter that evening; nevertheless she did not feel easy; she thought girlish pride was bidding her conceal the wound, and that in reality her child was unhappy.