Hitherto Betty had always been waiting for her to accompany her across
the heath, but this last night she was not in her usual place at the
door. Lavinia was not surprised as Betty had a bad cold. She hurried
out, anxious to get home. Some one a yard or so from the entrance shrank
into the darkness as she passed out but not so rapidly that he was not
noticed and recognised.
Lavinia was full of generous impulses that evening. Everything had gone
so well with her, and the future in spite of her doubts was so bright.
"Mr. Vane," she cried and moved a step towards him. "Do I frighten you
that you don't want to see me?"
"No," she heard him say, but it was with difficulty for his voice was so
low. "I'm not frightened but I'm afraid of what you might say or think."
"You don't give me a chance of the one or the other," she retorted. "You
don't keep your own appointments. 'Tis a bad habit of forgetfulness with
women, it's worse with men."
"You're right, but in my case 'tis not forgetfulness. I've seen you
every time you've sung. I've not missed once."
"And you've never acknowledged my presence! Thank you."
"I was at fault there, I suppose. I kept my happiness to myself. I ought
to have thanked you for the joy of seeing and hearing you but I was
doubtful whether I should not be intruding."
"It would have been no intrusion," rejoined Lavinia her tone softening.
Pages:
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282