CHAPTER XIV. "Bagot. Farewell at once,-for once, for all, and ever. Bushy. Well, we may meet again. Bagot. I fear me never." Richard II. HE next morning Leo was aroused by THE Aunt Lydia knocking at his door, to tell him that some letters had come for him. One he found to be from Mr. Holmes, arranging a meeting between him and Stephen Prescott; the other was his expected leave; so that if he intended to catch the mid-day train, he had but little time to spare. Aunt Lydia, feeling confident that on Hero's account Leo would soon return, treated his departure as only a temporary leave-taking, and suppressed the tearful anxiety and nervous forebodings, which at such times she usually gave vent to. "Tell Mrs. Prescott," said Leo, standing ready to start, "that I much regret being prevented from calling upon her; but say I will write." "Yes, my dear, and you can go when you come back." Come back? When would that be? But Leo dared not risk a scene by undeceiving the poor old lady. He wanted to speak of Hero, but he could not; so he made no answer, but listened patiently to all her little loving fidgets about himself and his luggage; then he stooped down and kissed her with far greater affection than usual, and, with an unbidden sigh, which came he scarce knew why, Leo turned his back upon his early home and his most faithful friend. On his way to the waterside he found his steps loiter wherever there was a chance of his meeting Hero; but in vain. The beach was reached, and he had to step into the boat, venting his disappointment in sharp speeches to the man for not bringing his luggage quicker. He had taken care to secure himself against fellow-passengers, so that he could sit silently taking an unacknowledged farewell of the old place and its surroundings. Each point and creek was familiar to him, and associated with a thousand memories, which, after lying dormant for years, would spring up when recent and more important events had lost interest, or were forgotten. Here as a boy he had gone fishing with Uncle Tony, there he had rambled with Hero, that was the spot where he and Jack Pringle were all but drowned, and farther on was the Nozzle Rock they had all climbed down to try and rescue the crew of the Priscilla schooner. Looking at them then, Leo little dreamed the time would come, when he would grow garrulous about these simple recollections, treasuring their memories because they recalled the dear old place where he had spent the happiest days of his life. But these days were far distant; and now, in proportion as the rugged coast, save in its bold outline, grew dim his spirits revived, so that by the time he had landed at the cove, and had been amused by the buzz of whispered surprise that he "didn't look no different "-had been gratified by several marks of attention from people he met in Dockmouth streets-had had his ears titillated by his tailor (given of late to indulge in that familiarity which was a portion of his premium upon long-standing bills, but now obsequiously hoping that he might be honoured by a further continuance of Sir Leopold's favours), Leo began to brisk up wonderfully, to take a happier view of life, and to determine to try and forget all that had given him pain and annoyance. As he was whirled along, he grew busy and interested in his future; and it was only when his eyes fell upon some quiet scene of rural sweetness that the thought arose, "I wonder what Hero is doing?" Ofttimes it is hard that such heart yearnings cannot be answered; ofttimes the scope given to imagination is more soothing than the actual knowledge would prove. So at least it was with Leo, who might have been somewhat disconcerted to hear, that about this time Hero was surprised by a visitor, who was no other than Mrs. Labouchere. After listening to Aunt Lydia's story of the great attachment between Leo and Hero, Katherine had heard from the old lady the further fact that, directly the announcement had come, Leo had spoken of Hero as the one to share his |