"
"I don't know why that should be," she answered. "I have certainly
done nothing to make you so much my friend. If you were to tell me you
intended to leave us to-morrow, I am afraid that I should not venture
to ask you to stay. But whether you go or stay, let us not talk of
Roderick!"
"But that," said Rowland, "does n't answer my question. Is he better?"
"No!" she said, and turned away.
He was careful not to tell her that he intended to leave them. One day,
shortly after this, as the two young men sat at the inn-door watching
the sunset, which on that evening was very striking and lurid, Rowland
made an attempt to sound his companion's present sentiment touching
Christina Light. "I wonder where she is," he said, "and what sort of a
life she is leading her prince."
Roderick at first made no response. He was watching a figure on
the summit of some distant rocks, opposite to them. The figure was
apparently descending into the valley, and in relief against the crimson
screen of the western sky, it looked gigantic. "Christina Light?"
Roderick at last repeated, as if arousing himself from a reverie.
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