"
"Well, Jack," said Howard, smiling, "it's very good of you to say
this. I can't quite accept it, but I am very grateful. There WAS
some truth in what you said--but it wasn't quite the whole truth;
and anyhow you and I won't squabble--I shouldn't like that!"
Jack nodded and smiled, and they went on to talk of other things;
but Howard was pleased to see that the boy hung about him,
determined to make up for his temper, looked after his luggage, saw
him into the train, and waved him a very ingenuous farewell, with a
pretence of tears.
The journey passed in a listless dream for Howard, but everything
faded before the thought of Maud. What could he do to make up for
his brutality? He could not see his way clear. He had a sense that
it was unfair to claim her affection, to sentimentalise; and he
thought that he had been doubly wrong--wrong in engaging her
interest so quickly, wrong in playing on her unhappiness just for
his own enjoyment, and doubly wrong in trying to disengage their
relation so roughly. It was a mean business; and yet though he did
not want to hold her, he could not bear to let her go.
As he came near Cambridge and in sight of the familiar landscape,
the wide fields, the low lines of far-off wolds, he was surprised
to find that instead of being depressed, a sense of comfort stole
over him, and a feeling of repose. He had crammed too many
impressions and emotions into his visit; and now he was going back
to well-known and peaceful activities.
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