I could not help telling
her what a great pleasure it would be to me to think, while
wandering in foreign lands, that such an appreciative family
would be enjoying my books and my place.
"You are so fond of your house and everything you have," said
she, "that we shall almost feel as if we were depriving you of
your rights. But I suppose that Italian lakes and the Alps will
make you forget for a time even your beautiful home."
"Not if you are in it," I longed to say, but I restrained
myself. I did not believe that it was possible for me to be more
in love with this girl than I was at that moment, but, of course,
it would be the rankest stupidity to tell her so. To her I was
simply her father's landlord.
I went to that house the next day to see that the boxes were
properly repacked, and I actually went the next day to see if the
right boxes had gone into the country, and the others back to the
storehouse. The first day I saw only the father. The second day
it was the mother who assured me that everything had been
properly attended to. I began to feel that if I did not wish a
decided rebuff I would better not make any more pretences of
business at the Vincent house.
There were affairs of my own which should have been attended
to, and I ought to have gone home and attended to them, but I
could not bear to do so. There was no reason to suppose she
would go out there before the first of June.
Thinking over the matter many times, I came to the conclusion
that if I could see her once more I would be satisfied.
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