Page:The Tenant of Wildfell Hall (emended first edition), Volume 3.djvu/318

308 "Gen'leman for Staningley Hall?" cried the coachman; and I rose and threw my carpetbag on to the ground, preparatory to dropping myself down after it.

"Sickly, sir?" asked my talkative neighbour, staring me in the face (I dare say it was white enough.)

"No. Here, coachman."

"Thank'ee, sir.— All right!"

The coachman pocketed his fee and drove away, leaving me not walking up the park, but pacing to and fro before its gates, with folded arms and eyes fixed upon the ground—an overwhelming force of images, thoughts, impressions crowding on my mind, and nothing tangibly distinct but this:—My love had been cherished in vain; my hope was gone for ever; I must tear myself away at once, and banish or suppress all thoughts of her like the remembrance of a wild, mad dream. Gladly would I have lingered round the place for hours, in the hope of catching, at least one distant glimpse of her