Blue Monday

It was to all intents and purposes "blue Monday" with the rector of
St. Mark's, for, aside from the weariness and exhaustion which always
followed his two services on Sunday, and his care of the Sunday
school, there was a feeling of disquiet and depression, occasioned
partly by that _rencontre_ with pretty Lucy Harcourt, and partly by
the uncertainty as to what Anna's answer might be. He had seen the
look of displeasure on her face as she stood watching him and Lucy,
and though to many this would have given hope, it only added to his
nervous fears lest his suit should be denied. He was sorry that Lucy
Harcourt was in the neighborhood, and sorrier still for her tenacious
memory, which had evidently treasured up every incident which he could
wish forgotten. With Anna Ruthven absorbing every thought and feeling
of his heart, it was not pleasant to remember what had been a genuine
flirtation between himself and the sparkling belle he had met among
the Alps.

It was nothing but a flirtation, he knew, for in his inmost soul he
absolved himself from ever having had a thought of matrimony connected
with Lucy Harcourt. He had admired her greatly and loved to wander
with her amid the Alpine scenery, listening to her wild bursts of
enthusiasm, and watching the kindling light in her blue eyes, and the
color coming to her thin, pale cheeks, as she gazed upon some scene of
grandeur, nestling close to him as for protection, when the path was
fraught with peril.