As the door moved, Mr. Harper turned round. He had a sickly, worn look, as if he had scarcely slept all night, and in his manner was a strange mingling of trouble and of joy.

"Agatha--how kind! I ought to apologise," he began, taking both her hands. "But no! I cannot."

"Nothing is wrong? No misfortune happened?"

"Misfortune? G.o.d forbid! Surely I do not look as if it were a misfortune? I am only too glad--too happy. Whatever results from it, I am indeed happy!"

"Then so am I, whatsoever it may be," returned Agatha, softly. "Still, do tell me."

Her bridegroom, as he pressed her to his bosom, looked as if he had for the moment forgotten all about his tidings; but afterwards, when her second entreaty came, he took out a letter and bade her read, holding her fast the while with a light firm hand on her shoulder. He seemed almost to fear that at the news he brought she would glide out of his grasp like snow.

"It is an odd hand--strange to me," said Agatha. "Is it"--and a sudden thought struck her--"is it"----

"Yes--thank G.o.d."

"Oh, then, he is safe--I am so glad--so glad!" cried Agatha, in the true sympathy of her heart. But her very gladness appeared to affect contrariwise the troubled mood of her lover. His hand dropped imperceptibly from her shoulder--he sat down.

"Read the letter, which came late last night. I thought you would be pleased--that was why I thus disturbed you."

Agatha, who had not yet learned the joy or pain of reading momently the changes of a beloved face, immediately perused the letter. It was rather eccentric of its kind:

"Lodge of O-me-not-tua.

"My dear Boy,

"If ever you get into the hands of those red devils, be not alarmed: it isn't so bad as it seems. If you saw me now, in the big buffalo-cloak of a medicine man, after smoking dozens of pipes of peace with every one of the tribe, sitting at the door of my lodge, with miles of high prairie-gra.s.s rolling in waves towards the sunset, you would rather envy me than otherwise, and cry out, as I have often done, 'Away with civilisation!'

"I am not scalped--I thought I should not be; the tribe (it wastes valuable paper to write their long name, but you will have heard it) the tribe know me too well. I make a capital white medicine-man. I might have escaped any day, but, pshaw! honour!--So I choose to see a little of the great western forests, until I know how my two red friends have been treated on Lake Winnipeg sh.o.r.e. But in no case is any harm likely to come to me, except those chances of mortality which are common to all.

"You will receive this (which a worthy psalm-singing missionary conveys to New York) almost as soon as the news of our adventure reaches Europe.

I send it to relieve you, dear nephew, and all friends, if I have any left, from further anxiety concerning me, and especially from useless search, as under no circ.u.mstances whatever shall I consent to return to Montreal until it seems to me good.

"Therefore, stay in Europe as long as, or longer than, you planned, and G.o.d prosper you, Nathanael, my good boy.

"Your affectionate uncle,

"Brian Locke Harper.

"I trust earnestly that this scrawl will reach Kingcombe Holm. Possibly, no more news of me may ever reach there.--Yet I fear not, for He who is everywhere is likewise in the wild western prairies; and life is not so sweet that I should dread its ending. Still, if it does end, remember me to my brother, my nieces, and all old friends, including Anne Valery. If living, I shall reappear sometime, somewhere. B. L. H."

"This is indeed happy news;--so far;" said Agatha, "though he seems in no cheerful mood."

"Melancholy was always his way at times."

"What a strange man he must be!" she continued, still thinking more of the letter than of anything else. "But"--and she turned to Nathanael--"your mind is now at rest? You will not need to go to America?"

"Not just yet."

She looked at him a moment in surprise, for there was something peculiar in his manner. She felt half angry with him for sitting so still, and speaking so briefly, while she herself was trembling with delight. "Have you told Miss Valery?" He shook his head. "Ah, then, go at once and tell her, so happy as she will be! Do go."

"Presently. Come and sit down here. I want to talk to you, Agatha."

She let him place her by his side. He took her hands, and regarded her earnestly.

"Do you remember what day this was to have been?"

"Was to have been?" she repeated, and instinctively guessed what he had doubtless come to say. Her heart began to beat violently, and her eyes dropped in confusion.

"I say '_was_,' because, if you desire it, it shall not be. I see the very idea is a relief to you. I saw it in your sudden joy."

Agatha was amazed--she had till this moment never thought of such a thing. Mr. Harper's whole manner of speech and proceeding was so very incomprehensible--like a lover's--that she told the entire truth in simply saying "that she did not understand him."

"Let me repeat it in plainer words." But the plainer words would not come; after one or two vain efforts, he sat with averted face, speechless. At last he said abruptly, "Agatha, do you wish to defer our marriage?"

As he spoke, his grasp of her hand was so fierce that it positively hurt her. "Oh, let me go--you are not kind," she cried, shrinking from the pain, which he did not even perceive he had inflicted--so strange a mood was upon him. He loosed her hand at once, and stood up before her, speaking vehemently.

"I meant to be kind--very kind--just in the way that I knew would most please you. I meant to tell you that I wish you to hold yourself quite free, both as to this day or any other days: that you have only to say the word, and--What a fool I am making of myself!"

Muttering the last words, he turned and walked quickly to the far end of the room, leaving Agatha to meditate. It was a new thing to see such pa.s.sion in him; and while half frightened she was interested and touched. She would have been more so, but for a certain something in him which roused her pride, until she could not do as she had at first intended--follow him, and ask why he was angry. The humility of love was not yet hers.

So she sat without moving, her eyes fixed on her hand, where the red mark left by her lover's grasp was slowly disappearing; until a minute after, he approached.

"Was that the mark of my fingers on your wrist? Did I hurt you, my poor Agatha?"

"Yes, a little."

"Forgive me!" And sitting down beside her, he bent his lips to where his rude grasp had been, kissing the little wrist over and over again, though he did not speak.

His humility in this, the first ripple which had ever stirred their calmest of all calm courtships, moved Agatha even more than his sudden gust of pa.s.sion. It is a curious fact, that some women--and they not of the weaker or more foolish kind--like very much to be ruled. A strong nature is instinctively attracted by one still stronger. Most certainly Agatha had never so distinctly felt the cords--not exactly of love, but of some influence akin thereto--which this young man had netted round her, as when he began to draw them with a tight, firm hand, less that of a submissive lover than of a dominant husband. She had never liked him half so well as when, taking her hand once more into his determined hold, he said--gently, indeed, but in a tone that would be answered--

"Now, tell me, what do you wish?"

"What do I wish?" echoed she, feeling as though some hard but firm support were about to relax from her, leaving her trembling and insecure to the world's open blasts. "I do not know--I cannot tell. Talk to me a little; that will help me to judge."

His eye brightened, though faintly. "I will speak, but you shall decide, for all lies in your own hands. I thought this right, and came here determined on telling you so."

"Well?" said Agatha, expectantly.

"You promised me this hand to-day, believing I was to leave England at once. My not leaving frees you from that promise--at least at present.

If you would rather wait until you know me better, or love me better, then"--

"What then?"

"We will quite blot out this day--crush it--destroy it, no matter what it was to have been. We will enter upon to-morrow, not as wife and husband, but mere lovers--friends--acquaintances--anything you like.

Nay--I am growing a fool again."

He put his hand to his forehead, sighed heavily, and then continued with less violence.