Arriving at Mr. Stephen Toller's country
seat, by the earliest train that would take me there, I found a last
trial of endurance in store for me. Cristel was away with her uncle,
visiting some friends.
Cristel's aunt received me with kindness which I can never forget. "We
have noticed lately that Cristel was in depressed spirits; no uncommon
thing," Mrs. Stephen Toller continued, looking at me with a gentle smile,
"since a parting which I know you must have felt deeply too. No, Mr.
Roylake, she is not engaged to be married--and she will never be married,
unless you forgive her. Ah, you forgive her because you love her! She
thought of writing to tell you her motives, when she visited her father's
grave on our return to England. But I was unable to obtain your address.
Perhaps, I may speak for her now?"
I knew how Lady Rachel's interference had appealed to Cristel's sense of
duty and sense of self-respect; I had heard from her own lips that she
distrusted herself, if she allowed me to press her. But she had
successfully concealed from me the terror with which she regarded her
rejected lover, and the influence over her which her father had
exercised. Always mindful of his own interests, the miller knew that he
would be the person blamed if he allowed his daughter to marry me. "They
will say I did it, with an eye to my son-in-law's money; and gentlefolks
may ruin a man who lives by selling flour.
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