He could
think, though he could not clothe his thoughts in words, and day
after day, night after night he did think, while Patience wondered at
the heavy moodiness that seemed to have come over him. He would not
open his lips to ask her counsel, being quite certain of what it
would be, and not choosing to hear her censure of Emlyn for what he
managed to excuse by the poor child's ignorance and want of training,
and by her ardent desire to be under his wing and escape from
temptation.
He recollected a thousand pleas that he might have used with her, to
show it was not want of love but a sacred pledge that withheld him,
and market day after market day he went in, priming himself all the
way with arguments that were to confirm her constancy, arm her
against temptation, and assure her of his unalterable love, though he
might not break his vow, nor lay his hand upon sacred things.
But whether Emlyn would not, or could not, meet him, he did not know,
for a week or two went by before he saw her, and then she was
carrying a great fan for her young mistress, who was walking with a
Cavalier, as gay as Cavaliers ever ventured to be, and another young
lady, whose waiting woman had paired with Emlyn.
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