At those words, "I must let you go," spoken apparently with calmness, as if it could be done, Faith felt a bound of freedom in her soul. If he would let her go, and care for her in the old way, only as a friend! But the strong passionate accents came after; and the old battle of doubt and pity and remorse surged up again, and the cloud of their strife dimmed all perception, save that she was very, very wretched.
"Don't let us say good-by, so," said Paul. "Don't let us quarrel. We will let all wait, as you wish, till I come home again."
So he still clung to her, and held her, half bound.
"And your father, Paul? And Margaret? How can I let them receive me as they do--how can I go to them as I have promised, in all this indecision?"
"They want you, Faith, for your own sake. There is no need for you to disappoint them. It is better to say nothing more until we do know. I ask it of you--do not refuse me this--to let all rest just here; to make no difference until I come back. You will let me write, Faith?"
It was so hard for her to comprehend that it could not be with him, any longer, as it had been; that his written or his spoken word could not be, for a time, at least, mere friendly any more.
And so she gave him, unwittingly, this hope to go with.
"I think you _do_ care for me, Faith, if you only knew it!" said he, half sadly and very wistfully, as they parted.
"I do care, very much," Faith answered, simply and earnestly. "I never can help caring. It is only that I am afraid I care so differently from you!"
She was nearer loving him at that moment, than she had ever been.
Who shall attempt to bring into accord the seeming contradictions of a woman's heart?
"Life's burdens fall, its discords cease, I lapse into the glad release Of nature's own exceeding peace." WHITTIER.
"I don't see," said Aunt Faith, "why the child can't come to me, Henderson, while you and Elizabeth are away. I don't believe in putting yourself under obligations to people till you're sure they're going to be something to you. Things don't always turn out according to the Almanac."
"She goes just as she always has gone to the Rushleighs," replied Mr. Gartney. "Paul is to be away. It is a visit to Margaret. Still, I shall be absent at least a fortnight, and it might be well that she should divide her time, and come to Cross Corners for a few days, if it is only to see the house opened and ready. Luther can have a bed here, if Mis' Battis should be afraid."