CHAPTER XII.
In his gay society the winter passed quickly. With the opening spring he departed—on business, as he said. I felt his loss, but as it was a busy time with me it did not affect me as it otherwise would have done. Many changes were being made in my seminary. I was obliged to employ workmen to add new dormitories to the great house, for pupils were crowding in from every point.
The reputation of the school was growing; I was immersed in business. Some months elapsed; I ceased to hear from Richard, almost to think of him, amid the activity of the spring term.
“Circumstances,” some say, “are the Devil,” and I almost believe that saying. While employed I was happy, my mind well balanced and energetic; but unfortunately for me, summer vacation drew near. It came finally; a sultry sun, parched earth, and scorched verdure made life in the city undesirable. My pupils fled to the country and to their homes until the fall session, and I was left alone. Even my servants were absent, all save one.
Shut up in the empty mansion alone with my own thoughts, I was growing morbidly lonesome.
It was at this unpropitious moment that Richard Bristed returned.