It led her
levelly to an almost circular green space; then it became enclosed
again and soft to the feet with grass; and just ahead of her, blocking
her way, she saw two figures, those of a woman and a man. Their backs
were towards her, but there was no mistaking Aunt Rose's back. It was
straight without being stiff, her dress fell with a unique perfection
and the little hat and grey floating veil were hers alone.
For an instant Henrietta stood still, and the man, turning to look at
his companion, showed the profile of her stranger. At the same moment
he touched Aunt Rose's hand and before Henrietta swerved and sped back
whence she had come, she saw that hand removed gently, as though
reluctantly, and the head, mistily veiled, shaken slowly.
Her first desire was for flight and, safely on the road again, she
found her heart beating to suffocation; she was filled with an
indignation that almost brought her to tears; it was as though Aunt
Rose had deliberately robbed her of treasure--Aunt Rose, who was
almost middle-aged! For a moment she despised that fair, handsome man
whose image had filled her mind for what seemed a long, long time;
then she felt pity for him who had no eyes for youth, yet she
remembered his look of arrested interest.
But steadying her thoughts and enjoying her dramatic bitterness, she
laughed. He had merely surprised her likeness to Aunt Rose and that
was all. Her dream was over. She had known it was a dream, but the
awakening was cruel; it was also intensely exciting.
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