A burning blush had covered Thelma's face at the mention of Errington's
name, but it soon faded, leaving her very pale. She changed her position
so that she confronted Mr. Dyceworthy,--her clear blue eyes regarded him
steadfastly.
"Is this what is said of me?" she asked calmly.
"It is,--it is, most unfortunately!" returned the minister, shaking his
bullet-like head a great many times; then, with a sort of elephantine
cheerfulness, he added, "but what matter? There is time to remedy these
things. I am willing to set myself as a strong barrier against the evil
noises of rumor! Am I selfish or ungenerous? The Lord forbid it! No
matter how _I_ am compromised, no matter how _I_ am misjudged,--I am
still willing to take you as my lawful wife Froeken Thelma,--but," and
here he shook his forefinger at her with a pretended playfulness, "I
will permit no more converse with Sir Philip Errington; no, no! I cannot
allow it! . . . I cannot, indeed!"
She still looked straight at him,--her bosom rose and fell rapidly with
her passionate breath, and there was such an eloquent breath of scorn in
her face that he winced under it as though struck by a sharp scourge.
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