It seemed he couldn't quite depend on his own
resolution, as he had thought he could; he almost wished his arm would
get painful again, and then he should think of nothing but the comfort
it would be to get rid of the pain. There was no knowing what impulse
might seize him to-morrow, in this confounded place, where there was
nothing to occupy him imperiously through the livelong day. What could
he do to secure himself from any more of this folly?
There was but one resource. He would go and tell Irwine--tell him
everything. The mere act of telling it would make it seem trivial; the
temptation would vanish, as the charm of fond words vanishes when one
repeats them to the indifferent. In every way it would help him to tell
Irwine. He would ride to Broxton Rectory the first thing after breakfast
to-morrow.
Arthur had no sooner come to this determination than he began to think
which of the paths would lead him home, and made as short a walk thither
as he could. He felt sure he should sleep now: he had had enough to tire
him, and there was no more need for him to think.
Chapter XIV
The Return Home
WHILE that parting in the wood was happening, there was a parting in the
cottage too, and Lisbeth had stood with Adam at the door, straining her
aged eyes to get the last glimpse of Seth and Dinah, as they mounted the
opposite slope.
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