What we have spoken about had, now, better be forgotten by all parties as soon as possible, excepting your promise, of course, _mind_!" and she bowed me out triumphantly--she victorious, I thoroughly defeated.
What a sad, sad change had occurred since happy last night! All my bright hopes were obscured, my ardent longings quenched by fashionable matter-of-fact; and, Min herself had gone from me, without one single parting word! I was born to be unlucky, I think; everything went wrong with me now.
Like the lonely, hopeless hero in Longfellow's translation of Min's favourite _Coplas de Manrique_, I might well exclaim in my misery-- "Let no one fondly dream again, That Hope and all her shadowy train Will not decay; Fleeting as were the dreams of old, Remembered like a tale that's told, They pass away!" How did I know, too, but, that, ere I saw my darling again, months might elapse, during which time all thoughts of me might be banished from her heart?
One proverb tells us that "absence makes the heart grow fonder;" another, equally entitled to belief, warns anxious lovers that "out of sight" is to be "out of mind." Which of the two could I credit?
Besides, even if she were constant and true to me, Mrs Clyde would certainly never give her consent to our engagement, I was confident--no, not if we both lived and loved until doomsday! All these bitter thoughts flashed through my mind in a moment, one after the other.
I was angry, indignant, wretched..