74. CHAPTER LXXIV.
ST. LEGER DEPARTS.
There is something selfish in happiness. The old pass away,
while the young are clasping hands; and it is of the blooming face
beside him, more than of the pale, peaked countenance yonder, that
the lover thinks.
But Harley rode back to Huntsdon saddened, in spite of his new
happiness; and his face was one of the most sorrowful that was
seen at the funeral of the generous old planter who went to sleep
in the remote graveyard beside his brother George.
Harley returned to Huntsdon just in time to see St. Leger shut up
his travelling valise, and prepare with a heavy heart to set out for
Williamsburg.
We need scarcely say that Harley had suddenly abandoned his
design of going to Europe, and had informed his friend of the
grounds of this change in his plans. He was engaged to be married
to Evelyn Bland, and as that young lady had expressed no desire
to make a foreign tour on the occasion of her marriage, he had
abandoned his own resolution to travel, and would remain in Virginia.
St. Leger sighed.
“All that goes without saying it, to use the delightful lingo of our
French friends, mon ami,” he said, smiling ruefully. “You were
glum—and were going. Your face has burst forth into sunshine—
you stay! Very well. Thank Heaven, you are happy once more,
my dear old Harley! You deserve it, if ever man did. But think
of me.”
“Of you!”
“I am going away—for ages perhaps; and—and—you know what
I mean to say.”
“Yes—that you are leaving Fanny. But remember that she is
going too.”
“Are you certain?—absolutely certain, Harley! I can hardly
believe in such luck.”
“She is going in the spring. You saw her this morning. She
must have told you.”
“Yes; but the news is almost too delightful! You see, I speak
without blushing and stammering—you are in love yourself, you
poor old fellow! and will be charitable!”
“I am always charitable for you, St. Leger—you are the best
friend and companion I ever knew. Yes; Fanny is going to the
Château de Gontran, on the Loire, with her father and mother in
the spring; he has gone to make his arrangements, and will soon
return. During the winter, Fanny and her mother will reside with
Puccoon. They were urged to stay at Blandfield, but Fanny shook
her head, exclaiming, like the little angel she is, `Oh! no! no! I
could never stay away from father! He has been my dear, dear
father! and I must see all I can of him!'—meaning Puccoon, you
know. So they are here but a little while—then they go to France.
and need I tell you that a run across the channel is an easy matter?
You can hardly be anything but welcome at the Château of the
Comte de Gontran, where la belle châtelaine to be, Fanny, is your—
friend!”
St. Leger's face glowed.
“You are right, old fellow!”
And an hour afterwards they set out together for Williamsburg;
thence they proceeded to Yorktown, and there, with a close pressure
of the hand, parted.
As long as the vessel was in sight, St. Leger made farewell signs
to his friend. Then a fresh breeze sprung up; the bark plunged her
cutwater into the waves, and Harley had seen the last of his friend
for years.
He rode back slowly and sadly toward Huntsdon; but with every
mile passed over his face grew brighter. There was some one now
to take the place of the absent in his heart. Through the clouds
burst a brilliant flood of sunshine, and that opening through which
the bright light fell was just above the country-house of Blandfield!
