"
"How clearly you put it! Well, adieu, darling, for the present, and
thank you a thousand times for all the time you have wasted on me. I
assure you I am not worth it"--kissing her hand brightly.
For once she speaks the truth; she is not indeed worth one moment of the
time Florence has been compelled to expend upon her; yet, when she has
tripped out of the room, seemingly as free from guile as a light-hearted
child, Miss Delmaine's thoughts still follow her, even against her
inclination.
She has gone to meet him; no doubt to interchange tender words and vows
with him; to forgive, to be forgiven, about some sweet bit of lover's
folly, the dearer for its very foolishness. She listens for her
footsteps as she returns along the corridor, dressed no doubt in her
prettiest gown, decked out to make herself fair in his eyes.
An overwhelming desire to see how she has robed herself on this
particular occasion induces Florence to go to the door and look after
her as she descends the stairs. She just catches a glimpse of Dora as
she turns the corner, and sees, to her surprise, that she is by no means
daintily attired, but has thrown a plain dark water-proof over her
dress, as though to hide it. Slightly surprised at this, Florence
ponders it, and finally comes to the bitter conclusion that Dora is so
sure of his devotion that she knows it is not necessary for her to
bedeck herself in finery to please him.
Pages:
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101